Cache a Predator Read Online Free PDF Page A

from a Victoria’s Secret catalog—high-fashion power suit, long flowing hair, lean legs, and high heels—so put together, her teeth so white they seemed to glow. Maybe she used whitening strips. Was she reaching in the back for a briefcase? No, she bent like maybe she was kissing a small child in a booster seat.
    Why couldn’t Ali be put together like that?
    The woman shut the door and blew her family a final kiss. Brett sighed. Ali would never be that poised or confident. He couldn’t change her, and nothing he could do would help her gain confidence. He’d tried. For years he’d tried. But he never managed to say the right thing.
    The car finally pulled away from the curb, and five minutes later Brett entered the police precinct. He hurried to his cubicle. Chief Dunson shouted from down the hall. “What time is it, Reed?”
    Busted.
    Brett headed down the hall, ducking his head into the chief’s office. “Sorry I’m late, sir.”
    An unlit cigar dangled from the chief’s mouth. “Looks like you’re making a habit of it.”
    “No sir. It won’t happen again.” Brett nodded and headed back to his desk.
    “That’s what you said the last time.” Chief’s voice trailed Brett down the hall.
    A few minutes later, Brett sipped coffee at his desk with Clay, his partner. Clay, at six foot five, filled the room. Some of his body hung over the sides of his chair. He’d played football for U of M while in college, but after ten years of being off the playing field, he’d gotten a little soft around the middle and around his heart. He had a soft heart for underdogs, always rooting for the losing team. His laugh was as snarky as Eddie Murphy’s, kind of like a snorting sound, making other people snicker.
    But Brett wasn’t laughing now. “When Quinn called this morning, I had to go check it out. There’ve been times when shaking Ali didn’t wake her. I had to make sure Quinn was okay.”
    “Was she?”
    Brett nodded. “Quinn was scared, but Ali sat up and spoke to me. She might go back to sleep, but I can’t control that.” He clenched his fists and lowered his voice. “I think Ali lost her job too. Which totally sucks because Quinn won’t be going to day care. As long as she’s in the house with Ali, I can’t think straight.”
    “Why don’t you call CPS?” Clay nodded toward the phone, then opened his desk drawer and slid a file into place.
    “They’ll find out I went over there.”
    “So what? They’ll find her messed up too.”
    “Yeah, but it might take them till tomorrow to check her out, and by that time she could be sober.”
    “I’ll call then.” Clay reached for the phone.
    Brett placed his hand on Clay’s arm. “Don’t do it, man.”
    Clay said, “Why not? You need to nail her.”
    “I know, but my ass will be on the line for violating the protective order. And there have been cases where the child was taken away for up to a year before the courts resolved the case. You know how messed up and overworked CPS is.”
    “Maybe you should suck it up and call your old man, dude.”
    Brett shook his head. His father was a local attorney, known and respected, but he couldn’t call him now, and he couldn’t tell Clay his old man had called. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me. He’s made that clear.” And I hung up on him today.
    When Ali had gotten pregnant six years ago, Brett had decided to do the right thing and marry her. He hadn’t known her for long—only long enough to be attracted to her. Looking back, maybe a part of him wanted to rescue her. She’d seemed so vulnerable.
    Brett reached for the phone on his desk—the one with the blocked number so Ali wouldn’t know it was him calling—and dialed her number. No answer. Either she had fallen back to sleep or she didn’t want to talk to anyone. Probably both.
    Clay arched his eyebrows. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You have these bulging black bags under your eyes, and your pants are about to fall