Deadly Intent Read Online Free PDF Page B

saw that TV interview you did. Me and my fellow inmates were flipping through the channels—“
    “Fellow inmates?” she repeated as his words sank in. “You’ve been in prison?”
    “Don’t look so surprised. Isn’t that the fate Irene had predicted for me?” He shook his finger in a mock imitation of a scolding parent. ‘”I swear, Ian McGregor, if you don’t shape up soon, you’ll end up in juvenile court.’ Well, guess what? She was right. Somehow I got myself mixed up with the wrong crowd and before I knew it, I was in the slammer.
    “I shouldn’t complain, though, should I?” A slow grin spread over Ian’s face. “Something good came out of my last stint. I found you.”
    “And why would you want to do that?”
    “Why not? We’re family, after all.”
    “Since when? If I recall, you always treated me like an intruder.”
    He chuckled. “I can still tell when you’re pissed, you know that? Your eyes narrow just like they did when you were little, although I wouldn’t have recognized you if it hadn’t been for the DiAngelo name. You’ve changed, little sister.” He let his gaze travel up and down her body. “For the better, I must say.”
    “What do you want, Ian?” She heard the impatience in her voice but didn’t care. She was tired and she wanted to go home.
    He didn’t seem to have heard her. “So you became a famous chef. I can’t say I’m surprised. You and Irene were always in the kitchen, cooking those great meals. It was quite a change after the kind of slop my mother used to feed us when she was alive.”
    “Then why couldn’t you have shown a little gratitude to my mother instead of always being rude and critical?”
    “For God’s sake, Abbie, give me a break, will you? I was a thirteen-year-old kid when you guys moved in. All of a sudden, my life was flipped upside down. I didn’t just have to put up with a new stepmother but a bratty stepsister as well. It was one hell of an adjustment.”
    “And now, out of the blue, you want to renew family ties?”
    He pulled on the cigarette again, and this time, he had the courtesy to blow the smoke toward the night sky. “They say people turn sentimental in their old age. Maybe that’s what’s happening to me. I’m turning sentimental.”
    She’d had enough. Whatever his game was, she wasn’t playing. “Good night, Ian.” She tried to walk past him but he blocked her way to the SUV.
    “Not so fast, Princess. You and me have a little unfinished business.”
    As badly as she wanted to get out of here, she had no choice but to wait for him to continue.
    “You remember the fire, Abbie?”
    His question, though unexpected, brought an instant image of the McGregors’ house in flames, and of Irene, dragging Abbie and Ian out of the inferno. She had watched in horror as her mother had ran back inside to save her husband and Liz, terrified she’d never see her mother alive again. Thankfully, the firemen had arrived in time to stop her. Liz had survived, but it had been too late for Patrick McGregor.
    Oh yes, she remembered that night. Next to her dad’s death when she was just five, it was one of the darkest moments of her entire childhood.
    “I remember,” she said quietly.
    “Do you remember how it happened?”
    “Why are you bringing this up now?”
    “Just humor me, Abbie. Do you remember how the fire happened?”
    “I remember what the fire chief said happened. Your father was in bed, smoking, and as usual, he had been drinking. He fell asleep with the cigarette in his hand.” She didn’t care if her accusatory remark upset him. He had started this.
    But Ian didn’t look upset. He looked smug. “That’s what Irene wanted the fire chief to believe. That’s what she wanted everyone to believe, but that’s not what happened.”
    Abbie felt suddenly sick. She wanted to blame the feeling on the long day, but she knew she was only kidding herself. Ian was the reason for the tightening of her stomach. Seeing him