Cold Pursuit Read Online Free PDF Page B

Alex. He had recently ended a stint as the U.S. ambassador to Great Britain. Speculation about what he’d do next was rampant. Persistent rumors put him in consideration for a very high-level appointment, possibly even Secretary of State. Washington thrived on gossip and scandal, turning the innocent into the sensational. Alex Bruni was born knowing how to play such games; Thomas had never quite learned.
    He opened up another section of the Post, flipped through it, studied the ads, read the commentaries and drank his coffee.
    Ten minutes ticked by. Where the hell was Alex?
    Thomas glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes late. Any lingering amusement over the op-ed on Jo faded. Although he’d cleared his calendar for the entire morning, he was a busy man—as busy in his own way as Alex. But Thomas knew better than to compare himself to Alex, a lesson learned twenty years ago when he and his ambitious, overachieving friend were law students at Yale—long before Alex had taken up with his best friend’s wife.
    In spite of that blinding act of betrayal, Thomas couldn’t hate Alex, and there was no gain to such negativity and strong emotion, anyway. Alexander Bruni was a respected diplomat on everyone in Washington’s short list of “good people to know.”
    And if his longtime friend had any fresh insights into what to do about Nora and her behavior, Thomas was willing to listen. He was convinced the combination of the early northern New England winter and limited funds would nip her sense of romance and adventure about life in Vermont in the bud. Alex and her mother had decided to help Nora out with cash and a car, a source of friction, but Thomas doubted it was what had prompted Alex to arrange this meeting. At least Carolyn, an expert on emerging markets, was in Hong Kong at a conference and wouldn’t be there.
    Thomas’s newspaper moved, startling him, until he realized he’d put it on top of his cell phone, which was set on vibrate. He picked up the phone, flipped it open and saw that he had a text message.
    Melanie.
    Not Nora, of course. His daughter had stopped most communications with him after he had cut off her funds. He hadn’t been harsh—he’d hardly had a chance to say a word before she’d hung up on him. Nora was, technically, an adult. She’d made her decision to quit college on her own and only informed him, her mother and Alex after she’d already moved to Black Falls and gotten a job.
    Thomas found his way to the text message and smiled as he saw that, indeed, it was from his fiancée.
    Dinner set…c u tonite. Luv u. Mel.
    After two tries, he managed to type in his reply.
    Great. Love you, too.
    He’d never get used to text-message shorthand, but Melanie was young, hip, beautiful and had no trouble whatsoever. She’d never have a YouTube moment like Jo or stick him with a fait accompli like his daughter.
    A shriek jerked him half out of his chair.
    More screams penetrated the quiet of the elegant dining room, and he leaped to his feet, his napkin falling onto the floor as his fellow diners responded in kind.
    â€œOh my God!” A woman’s voice, panicked, came from the adjoining lobby. “That car just ran him over! Call 911.”
    â€œGet the license plate,” a man yelled. “Run…run, damn it!”
    Thomas heard more urgent comments, orders, questions, exclamations. Once he was assured of his own safety—the hotel wasn’t under attack—he grabbed his cell phone and briefcase and joined a dozen or so people rushing from the restaurant to the lobby, where all the commotion was occurring.
    A car accident? A hit-and-run?
    In the glittering lobby, doormen and bystanders scurried, yelling, motioning wildly as they tried to come to terms with some kind of emergency outside on the sidewalk.
    Thomas felt his step falter. He stood next to a polished round table with a massive vase of fresh flowers as