Chills & Thrills: Three Novel Box Set Read Online Free PDF Page B

inside was a 5x7 photo of Hope. She was a pretty little girl with big blue eyes, dark hair, a pinch of freckles across her nose, a bright smile—there was an intelligence in those eyes. I could easily see she was a smart kid. There was also something else that I recognized behind the eyes—a sadness mixed with a little bit of fear. God, did I get that. A sudden, deep protectiveness came over me as I studied the photo. In that moment I vowed to find Hope Mitchell and bring her home safely.
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    Hope opened her eyes slowly. She felt warm and tingly, and a little bit confused. Where was she?
    A hand stroked her hair back off of her face, and she closed her eyes again—her mother was here, wherever here was.
    “There you go. Sleep, dear girl.”
    The warmth and comfort dissipated, and she opened her eyes again, focusing on the woman standing next to her bed—the woman who was not her mother. A woman who sounded strange to her. In her mixed up state, she tried to figure out the accent, but was so drowsy. “Who are you?” she muttered. “Where’s my mom? I want my mom.”
    “I’m Orlenda. You’ve had a bit of a bad fall, and I’m helping take care of you.” She placed a spindly hand on Hope’s arm. “Your mother is just fine and she will be here soon.”
    “When?” Hope asked. The woman was tall, very thin, reminding her of a ballerina but much older than most ballerinas. Her hair was almost white with silver streaks through it and pulled straight back off of her face. The eyes were a steely blue and although her voice sounded kind, it did not match the eyes, and Hope knew the woman was lying to her about her mother. However, she’d been trained, and she knew they had drugged her and as she was starting to become more alert, there was pain in her right leg. The woman standing over her was smart, and Hope knew she aimed to take advantage of her. She’d been told that at the compound. She would have to be just as smart as this lady—Orlenda.
    Hope was aware that she would not be able to use her gift, or outsmart Orlenda until she was fully awake and aware. She closed her eyes again. “Will you wake me up when my mom gets here?” she asked, playing into the charade.
    “Of course. You rest.” Orlenda patted her hand.
    Hope heard her leave the room. As the door closed, tears burned her eyes, which she shut tighter, trying hard not to cry. She couldn’t help it. She had no idea where she was or who had her. But she knew what she had been told would happen to her if someone outside of the compound took her.
     
     
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
    I was alone in my apartment.
    Unlike other agents or investigators, those who work for the PSI sometimes need to do more than glance through a file. Sometimes we need to absorb, assimilate, feel our way through a file.
    Especially when it came to missing persons. We needed to get a feel for the missing, we needed to connect on a psychic level to the missing, which is why the more information we’re given the better. Especially personal information. Which was one of the reasons why I wanted to speak to the mother. Give me a sweater or a necklace or even a pair of shoes, and the psychic hits come stronger and more detailed.
    Now, all we had to work with was the thick dossier, which is what I was studying now on my balcony, overlooking the busy Los Feliz Boulevard, which someone had once said was the busiest street in Los Angeles. Looking at it now, at rush hour, and the endless sea of red brake lights, I believed it.
    I also didn’t have to worry about it. Not up here, on my balcony with a glass of Cabernet. My feet were crossed up on the iron balcony railing. I was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, my hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Not exactly the glamorous secret agent most people imagine, but my job was rarely glamorous. Sure, it had its moments, especially when I was under cover.
    Even then, undercover assignments vary. Hell, I last posed