Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“It’s absolutely terrible what happened to my daughter.” She sniffles, though her eyes don’t glisten with any tears. “She needs her mother now. More than ever.”
“She’s had the best care,” I say. “A year at a retreat center, and now she’s living in housing provided by the Wolfe family while she continues her therapy.”
“She doesn’t need therapy. She just needs her mother.”
“I see. Why don’t you and I have a talk, and maybe I’ll be able to convince her to see you?”
“I’m not sure what there is for us to talk about. I’m her mother.” She narrows her gaze. “Do you have children, Mr. Ramsey?”
“Please call me Leif, and no, I don’t have any children.”
She eyes my left hand. “Married?”
“No.”
She smiles. “Now that is decidedly good news.”
Oh my God. Is this woman going to hit on me? Kelly is twenty-eight years old, so this woman must be at least forty-eight, maybe older. She’s not unattractive—I mean, she’s Kelly’s mother—but she has a kind of hardness about her that I can’t quite place.
“Is it?” I ask.
Maybe I can get some information out of her if I let her think she has a shot.
“I’d say it is.” She winks. “Wouldn’t you?”
I smile. “I think it could be.”
The server arrives with Racine’s champagne cocktail, and she holds up her glass.
“To a memorable evening,” she says.
“To a memorable evening it is.” I clink my glass to hers. I believe this will be a memorable evening, although not for the reason she’s hoping.
“Can you tell me a little bit about Kelly?” I ask.
“I’m sure you know way more than I do. I haven’t seen her since… Well, you know.” She chokes up. Or attempts to.
“I only met her a few days ago. The Wolfes asked me to focus solely on her security, to protect her.”
“Protect her? Isn’t that what they’re doing?”
“There’ve been some threats against her,” I say.
Racine gasps. “No! Who would threaten my child?”
“She thinks it’s one of the other women from the island, but we don’t agree.”
“Who do you think it is?”
“We don’t know. Whoever it is has used text messages from burner phones that can’t be traced.”
“If Kelly thinks it’s this woman from the island, she’s probably right. Kelly is a very good judge of character.”
“Is she?”
“Yes, definitely. She has been since she was a child. If my daughter didn’t like someone, I took it seriously.”
Interesting. Does Racine have any idea how her daughter feels about her?
But I feel like I’m getting somewhere.
“Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?” I ask.
She takes another sip of her champagne cocktail. “What are you suggesting?”
“Dinner? In your room?”
She sets her drink down harshly. “My goodness. I’m not the kind of woman who—”
I place my hand over hers. “I’m not suggesting that at all, Racine. However, it’s kind of noisy here in the bar, and I’m not sure if it will be any quieter in one of the restaurants.”
“Goodness, we couldn’t get into the restaurants anyway. Not without a reservation.”
“Room service then. My treat.”
Her shock at my outrageous suggestion dissipates. “In my room? All right.”
I take another sip of my drink. “Good. I’m looking forward to it.”
Racine’s room turns out to be a suite. What the hell does this woman do for a living? Or maybe the Wolfes are putting her up. I should’ve asked.
I glance at the room-service menu and decide on the New York strip. I hand it to Racine. “Whatever you’d like. I’ll see that you’re reimbursed.”
“Please, don’t worry a thing about it.” She scans the menu. “I’m going to start with the Beluga caviar. And then a house salad, and the rack of lamb. What are you having?”
“The New York strip, rare.”
“Excellent.” She picks up the receiver on the phone. “I’d like to order some room service please. She rattles off our selections and adds a bottle of champagne. Dom Perignon, no less.
“There, should be here in about half an hour.”
Great. Now, how do I get her to spill her guts in half an hour without having to touch her?
I will not touch her. First of all, even though she looks a lot like Kelly, I’m not even remotely attracted to her. And it’s not her age that is getting to me. It’s her attitude—flirtatious one minute, appalled the next. And then there’s Kelly. Kelly doesn’t want to see her mother, and there must be a damned good reason. This is the woman who raised Kelly, who helped form her personality. Kelly went through hell on that damned island, but what happened before?
Her words haunt me.
I haven’t been anyone’s responsibility other than my own. No one has ever taken care of me, and I don’t need anyone to take care of me now.
Time for some investigation. “So,” I say, “what do you do for a living, Racine?”
“I’m actually not working,” she says. “An unmarried aunt of mine passed away last year, and I’ve been living off of the estate she left me.”