Absolutely, Positively Read Online Free PDF Page A

ins and outs of investigating. But if not, it would be trickier. “I don’t suppose you remember his birthday?” I asked, trying to recall everything Sean had taught me about gathering information for the case.
    “October fourteenth.”
    “Do you know where he was born? Or anything about his natural family? Is Rourke his family name?”
    “Born here in Boston—I don’t know which hospital. He never knew his real dad. His mother died when he was twelve. He had a grandmother, but she’d been too poor to take him in. That’s when he went into the system.”
    A pinch of foreboding had me hiding a frown.
    14 plus 12 is 26.
    I gave myself a hard mental shake. Since I was little, I had turned to solving simple math problems in my head to alleviate stress. I was trying to break myself of the habit for a couple reasons: I figured at almost twenty-nine years old I should have better coping skills, plus I didn’t like math all that much.
    I tried to push the worry away—there was no cause for it. None whatsoever. Meaghan had come to me for help … for hope. I was a sucker for these kinds of cases. Sean called it the Love Conquers All syndrome, and I was seriously afflicted.
    “I’ve read several articles about you and your success. I should tell you up front that your, you know,” she searched for the right word, “psychicness won’t help in this case.”
    I smiled. That was a new term for me. “Not to worry,” I said. “We’ve had a lot of success tracking lost loves without using my abilities. We’ll start looking for Tristan right away.”
    We went through the contracts, and she wrote a check for the retainer. I had everything I needed to get started.
    “And you’ll call as soon as you find him?”
    Suddenly I wondered what the color of her aura might be, if it reflected her joie de vivre or held a tinge of the desperation I sensed under the surface. But I could only wonder, as my father wasn’t around and he was the only one who could answer that question. I checked myself. My father … and my brother. Cutter also had the gift but used it in a far different way—artwork.
    “Definitely,” I said, “but remember my warning.”
    “I will.” At the door, she stopped, looked back at me. “I may be able to help a little.”
    “How?”
    “Tristan’s last known address…”
    “You know it?” Preston asked.
    I reached for my notepad.
    Meaghan wrung her hands and finally whispered, “Walpole State Prison.”

4
    “Then she just walked out?” Sean asked. He was sitting on the edge of the conference table and it was taking everything in me not to run my hand along his thigh.
    “All willy-nilly,” Preston said.
    She was the reason for my restraint. She should have been long gone but decided to ditch her English 101 class at Quincy College once Meaghan dropped her little bombshell. Preston had just started a liberal-arts program with the intent to transfer to a four-year school eventually. Her lack of a journalism degree was holding back her career.
    Sean smiled wide, his dimple popping.
    My heart pittered, pattered.
    “Willy-nilly?” he asked.
    “It’s a phrase,” Preston protested.
    “If you’re fifty,” Sean said.
    “I think my grandmother uses it,” I put in.
    Preston crossed her arms over her chest. “You two think you’re funny.”
    As much as we teased, “willy-nilly” had been as apt a description as any to describe the way Meaghan had dropped her news and hustled away.
    Sean had found Preston and me a few minutes later, still staring at the empty doorway. He would have made it in sooner, but he’d been waylaid by my grandmother and encouraged (he really had no choice) to track down Mac Gladstone.
    “What I can’t understand is why Tristan Rourke would have gone to Walpole,” Preston said.
    Technically, Walpole State Prison had changed its name back in the eighties to Cedar Junction. However, locals still called it Walpole for the most part—a fact that continued to rankle