Double Dog Dare Read Online Free PDF Page B

stiletto heels, I was sure, if she was still an exotic dancer. She’d be worried about her son. Grasp at straws to learn where he was.
    I might not have answers, but maybe we could help each other get through this time of uncertainty.
    As long as she wasn’t the kind of demanding demon my mother was.
    “Did she give you her phone number?” I asked Althea.
    “Then you’ll call her?” She sounded extremely relieved. “That’s so nice of you, Kendra.”
    I only hoped I wasn’t compounding an already unnerving situation.
    First, though, I returned Corina Carey’s ever-mounting mound of phone messages. “Yes, it was Jeff’s car, as you know,” I told her. “But I still don’t know where he is, and neither does anyone else.”
    “Interesting mystery,” she oozed. “I’ll see if there’s anything on the media side that will help, if you’ll keep me informed on your end.”
    “Sure,” I lied. Exactly what I needed. More media prying into my private life. Although if she did learn something useful about Jeff . . . Well, if that happened, I’d consider cooperating with her.
    Meantime, I got down to my next call . . . sort of.
    OKAY, CALL ME a coward. Better yet, call me a dedicated attorney. I finished the answer to the complaint for our clients before I looked at the number I’d jotted down during my conversation with Althea.
    A number with the 708 area code. Still the Chicago area, wasn’t it? I wasn’t sure till I checked it out on the Internet.
    And then I looked at my e-mail. Nothing new.
    And then I organized a couple of files on my habitually cluttered desk.
    And then . . . then, I finally stopped procrastinating.
    I reached into the bottom desk drawer where I kept my purse and extracted my cell phone. The call would be long-distance, and I didn’t need a record of it on the office system. We generally attributed our calls to a client or to a general administrative number. Personal calls were okay as long as they were limited, but of course they showed up on our monthly accounting statement.
    And so, I closed my eyes for an instant, then opened them and resolutely pressed in the number that would connect me to Jeff’s mother.
    “Hello?” said a husky yet sexily feminine voice. Just as I’d anticipated.
    “Mrs. Hubbard? This is Kendra Ballantyne, calling from California. I’m a . . . friend of Jeff’s.”
    “More than that, aren’t you?” She sounded somewhat amused. “According to my son, you’re pretty special.”
    Good thing we weren’t videoconferencing. Otherwise, the woman would see the flush I felt creeping up my cheeks. “He’s a good guy, but he exaggerates.” I didn’t give her time to comment before continuing. “Anyway, Althea, from his office, said you wanted to talk with me. Mrs. Hubbard, I just want you to understand that—”
    “Irene.”
    “Pardon?”
    “My name’s Irene, not Mrs. Hubbard. Otherwise, I sound like that old nursery rhyme, ‘Old Mother Hubbard.’ Ugh!”
    I grinned despite my inner turmoil. “Got it. Okay, Irene, I need for you to understand that none of us who . . . care about Jeff really knows where he is.”
    A pause. Then, “Unfortunately, I’ve figured that out, my dear. I’ve even spoken with Jeff’s Aunt Lois.”
    “Aunt Lois?” We didn’t frequently discuss our families, and I doubted I’d heard of her.
    “Not really his aunt, but a dear friend of mine who’s acted like a kind of mother to Jeff since he moved to California. She lives near Ontario Airport and they don’t get together often. But she’s much more the maternal type than I’ve ever been, so they’re close. Or at least they used to be.”
    I wasn’t sure why he hadn’t mentioned her. Or maybe he had, and I hadn’t focused on her possible importance in his life.
    “Anyway, I needed to tell someone I thought I could trust about what Jeff was working on when he went back to California. I gathered from Althea that no one from his office even knew he was in the