Blackmail Read Online Free PDF Page B

like to gossip or anything, but about Caleb Frost’s new guardian?”
    Sadie. “Yes?”
    â€œWell…do you know her history?”
    â€œJust what was in the file.”
    â€œI see.” Her face scrunched into a scowl.
    â€œWhat is it, Lisa?”
    â€œI don’t know her personally or anything, but she has somewhat of a reputation around town.”
    Something lodged sideways in Jon’s throat. He swallowed hard. “What kind of reputation?”
    â€œJust that she used to be a heavy drinker. And, uh, let’s say she, uh, dated quite a few of the men in town.”
    His gut clenched. Sadie was like Aunt Torey?
    â€œI heard she changed and all, but I just thought you might want to know.” Lisa shrugged. “It might be important to Caleb’s rehabilitation.”
    He handed Lisa back the newspaper and reached for his briefcase. “Thanks. Guess I’d better get to today’s field visits.”
    â€œSure. I’ll hold the fort.”
    He glanced at the itinerary she’d given him. Sadie Thompson and Caleb Frost weren’t on the list for a home visit. Probably a good thing. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. Now, after hearing Lisa’s report, he had to wonder why.
    No, he wouldn’t even start trying to analyze why he kept thinking about Sadie Thompson. He had a job to do and as he crossed the lobby to the parking lot, he was determined to do just that—his job and nothing more.
    Two hours and four visits later, Jon pulled into the café for a quick salad. A blast of frigid air hit his face as he opened the door. Ah, the pricelessness of air-conditioning on a sweltering July day.
    He nodded to a couple of the townspeople as he made his way to the swivel stools against the bar counter. No one greeted him or even tossed him a welcoming smile. He’d lived in Lagniappe over a year—when would the locals warm up to him?
    After placing his order, Jon sipped his water and studied the people around him. Most were on their lunch breaks, as well, wearing the fashions of their jobs. Uniforms for the minimum-wagers, dirty jeans and T-shirts for the manual laborers and suits for the numerous professionals hanging out their shingles in the small town. Jon felt out of place in his khaki slacks and polo-style shirt.
    â€œMan, Deacon Wynn’s gonna be outta business soon,” one of the men in a dirt-streaked shirt mumbled to his lunch partner.
    â€œWould serve him right. That family’s got delusions they’re above all the rest of us.” The other worker splashed ketchup over his mountain of fries.
    â€œYeah, but didn’t stop his son from getting into trouble, did it?”
    â€œHeard he’d gotten into drugs and gone into rehab. Shows that money can buy trouble, that’s for sure.”
    Jon tightened his grip on his water glass. That’s where he recognized the name Vermilion Oil. One of his probationers was the son of Deacon Wynn. Rehab? No, the boy had been in juvie, turning eighteen less than a week after his release.
    Lance Wynn was a good kid, basically. Raised in a family with too much money and not enough attention. He’d dabbled in drugs, gotten caught and sent to juvie. He only had another month of probation, then that record would be closed and sealed. A past swept under the carpet, unlike the less wealthy juvies.
    It never ceased to amaze Jon what having money could do.
    Â 
    Today had been the day to beat all days.
    Sadie grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and headed to the front porch. That draining press conference had set the tone for her entire day, followed by Caleb missing the bus and having to walk to school, arriving for class late, which explained the call from the principal this morning. The only thing good about today was no new facility had been damaged. She yearned for a hot bath and an early bedtime.
    Unfortunately, she had to cook something for supper so Caleb