Convictions Read Online Free PDF Page B

that when I ran into her about a month ago," her father said dryly.
    "What does she want?"
    "She writes a gossip column for the county paper. When I saw her, she said she wanted to come out and interview you. I told her you weren't feeling well."
    Olivia's mouth grew cottony. It was bad enough that her father and coworkers knew of her near breakdown. "I don't want to talk to her."
    Her father patted her shoulder. "You stay here. I'll get rid of her." He strode out of the kitchen.
    Olivia curled her fingers around the edge of the counter as she watched her father step off the porch. Her attention shifted to Melinda, who was getting out of the sedan. Al- though it had been twelve years since high school graduation, Olivia had no trouble recognizing her former classmate. Melinda's former shoulder-length dark hair was now cut in a short, sassy style, and she wore a fire engine red halter top, skintight white capris, and heeled sandals that matched her blouse.
    The conversation between her father and Melinda was punctuated by hand waving and stiff body language. It didn't look like she would take no for an answer.
    Irritated with both Melinda and herself for allowing her father to fight her battles, Olivia squared her shoulders and limped outside onto the porch.
    Melinda spotted her immediately and dodged around Olivia's father. The woman's staccato heels echoed on the wooden porch.
    "It's been a long time, Olivia," Melinda said, her voice as brassy as her clothing.
    Not long enough.
    "Yes, it has been." Olivia crossed her arms, hoping she looked more composed than she felt. "What do you want?"
    "An interview. I've already talked to the Chicago police and the district attorney's office about your attack. I could write my story with what I have, but I thought it might be good to hear it from you."
    "Olivia?" her father asked, clearly wondering how she was handling Melinda's prying.
    Olivia didn't like it, but if she didn't talk to her, Melinda would put her own spin on the story.
    "It's okay, Dad. I'll answer her questions."
    He seemed relieved. "I'll leave you two alone then."
    Olivia was oddly relieved he wouldn't remain and be party to her half-truths. He gave Olivia a nod of encouragement, then strode toward the barn.
    "Why don't we sit down?" Olivia asked, pointing to one of the wicker chairs on the porch.
    Melinda sank into one. "So how did you hurt your leg?"
    She'd obviously noticed Olivia's limp when she'd come out of the house.
    "You should know," Olivia replied. "You talked to the police."
    Melinda had the grace to glance down, but her penitence didn't last long. She met Olivia's gaze with her own haughty one. "I only received the official version. I'd like yours." She tugged a small notebook and pen out of her purse.
    Olivia gritted her teeth and looked beyond the porch to the men milling about. Many of them were watching her and Melinda with unabashed curiosity. She quickly glanced down, fighting the urge to flee into the house, and cleared her throat. "My kneecap was smashed, but the doctors did an excellent reconstruction job."
    "So why are you still here? Surely you've recovered enough to go back to work."
    Olivia wasn't about to explain her personal demons to this woman and have them splashed across the front page of the county paper. "I'm still on medical leave. As soon as I've healed completely, I'll return to my job."
    "I was under the assumption you were seeing a psychologist."
    Olivia's face heated with both anger and humiliation. The only people who knew she had gone to a counselor were her fellow prosecutors in the DA's office. Who disliked her so much that he or she would divulge the confidentiality?
    "I visited one twice while still in Chicago," she answered curtly. "But not here?"
    Olivia shook her head, afraid to trust her voice.
    "Why did Peter Larsen attack you?" Melinda asked, not pulling any punches.
    Although the jagged memories came fast and furious, Olivia managed to keep her face and voice cool.