Dangerous Melody Read Online Free PDF

“I found her, Tate.”
    There was an answering shout from upstairs, but she did not respond, her attention riveted by the man sitting ramrod straight in her grandmother’s old rocking chair.
    “Hello, Stephanie,” Bittmansaid, stroking the cat curled in his lap. “You look breathtaking.”
    The folder slipped from her fingers, papers floating to the floor around her feet. She wanted to scream, to yell to Tate, but nothing would come out of her mouth. Bittman eased the cat from his lap and brushed at a few hairs left on his pants. His face was smooth and unlined, approaching his mid-thirties. Long, dark hair combedaway from his high forehead accentuated the pale skin, brown eyes glinting through small angled glasses.
    He gestured to the bed. “Please, sit down. I imagine your oaf of a boyfriend will be here in a moment.”
    He’s not my boyfriend, she wanted to whisper. Instead she took a deep breath, fighting down the fear that clawed at her throat, anger rising along with it. “I don’t know what kindof sick game you’re playing, but I want my father back right now.”
    Bittman chuckled, his glasses glinting in the dying sunlight. “Impatient as ever. I will hold off until Mr. Fuego makes it down the stairs.”
    They didn’t wait more than a few seconds before Tate crashed through the door. His eyes sought hers, simmering with a mixture of anger and something else. “You okay?” he asked softly,pulling a phone from his pocket.
    She nodded.
    Bittman sighed. “Mr. Fuego, put away the phone. You will not be calling the police or anyone else. Stephanie doesn’t want you to do that.”
    His lips quirked into a smile. As much as she wanted Tate to call the police, to have the supreme satisfaction of watching Joshua Bittman go through the demeaning process of being handcuffed on hisway to jail, she knew the cost was too high.
    “Put it away, Tate. I have to know what he wants from us.”
    “Where’s my sister?” Tate demanded.
    “I imagine this is why you intruded on my property.”
    “Where’s Maria?”
    Bittman’s delicate eyebrows arched a fraction. “Mr. Fuego, you bore me. Running all over town like some Keystone Cop is not becoming. Stick with your current job.Blowing up buildings is more suited to your intellect.”
    Tate took a step forward. “Tell me.”
    Bittman gave him a cold stare. “Why would I tell you anything? You are, in the common vernacular, a loser. Addicted to painkillers, barely able to keep your father’s business out of the red and, if my information is complete, the very same man who almost killed Stephanie, a woman who is far toogood for you.”
    Stephanie’s heart twisted, and she grabbed Tate’s wrist before he could go after Bittman. “Just tell us what you want.”
    Bittman nodded. “Nothing from Mr. Fuego. His presence is strictly an annoyance, and I believe he went so far as to upset my birds, for which a price must be paid at some future date. They are blue mutation, yellow-naped Amazons—very rare, you understand.”He gestured to the other wooden chair. “Please, sit down, Stephanie.”
    Stephanie remained standing, Tate next to her. “Where’s my father?”
    “Right to the point. No catching up?” His eyes swept over her body, making her face flush.
    Tate grunted. “Get on with it.”
    Bittman ignored Tate. “Your father is fine for the moment, housed at a location which you will never find on your ownuntil we conclude a business transaction. I need you to locate something for me, and once you do, he will be returned to you in mint condition. Simple as that.”
    Stephanie tried to read the feelings in his eyes, but failed. There was never any emotion to take note of, not in all the years she had known him. Only when he spoke of his own father did she see a spark. “What is it? This thing youneed me to find?”
    Bittman folded his arms and looked out the window, scrutinizing the view. “A violin.”
    “A violin?” Tate snapped. “You’re loaded. Go