Found Read Online Free PDF
Author: Karen Kingsbury
given her that night and this morning was completely missing now.
Katy tried to steel herself against what might be coming. Maybe he had finally realized there could never be anything more than a distant friendship between the two of them. Whatever was wrong, she wanted to be ready for the pain. Months had passed, after all. Dayne wasn’t with Kelly Parker anymore, but maybe he’d moved on-the way the tabloids hinted-to Angie Carr, his current costar.
But then why had he seemed so glad to see her at the courthouse earlier?
Dayne’s attorney was waving his hand, talking about the press. “They’ll eat up the story, folks. I can tell you that much.” He took a drink of his iced tea.
“Those prelims were dynamite.” He pointed at Dayne. “Your testimony alone makes the case a slam dunk.”
“Good.” Dayne poked his fork around at the wilting lettuce on his plate. “Then let’s give Katy a break. She can go home, and I’ll be the media circus.”
She blinked at him. Go home? Where did this attitude come from? When he was in Bloomington he’d told her several times that whatever was happening between them wasn’t finished yet. Not as long as the trial loomed ahead. But now …
Joe Morris was saying something about anyone witness to a crime was subject to testify, and that of course there was no way for Katy to get out of testifying.
But more than that, Katy could hear Dayne’s words: “Give Katy a break. She can go home … go home.”
Katy kept her answers short the last ten minutes of lunch, 20
talking only when Joe asked her a direct question about her flight or her availability.
Finally, the attorneys stood, and Joe motioned to the prosecutor. “Let’s talk out here for a minute.”
The prosecutor nodded. She was an intelligent, no-nonsense sort who had kept pace with Dayne’s attorney since the meeting at the courthouse.
They left the room, and Katy and Dayne were alone. He lifted his eyes to hers, but he looked weary, as if whatever was eating at him was almost more than he could bear.
“Did I … do something?” She pushed back her plate and rested her forearms on the table. She lifted her hands, baffled. “I feel like a stranger over here.”
“I’m sorry.” Dayne stood, but his movements were slow, troubled. He came to her and took the seat beside her, facing her. “We need to talk.”
Katy felt herself grow stiff. She pressed her spine against the back of the chair. Hide your feelings, Katy. Come on. “About what?”
Only then did she see it. The hurt in Dayne’s expression, the certainty that something had changed or happened. Whatever it was, the look in his eyes was so sad it moved her deeply.
He spoke straight to the loneliest places of her heart. “Later.” He looked up for a moment, then back at her. “Meet me at five o’clock tonight. Malibu Beach, a hundred yards south of the pier.”
She thought hard, her pulse faster than before. “I’m not sure I know how to get there.”
He grabbed a pen and a napkin and wrota^her directions. Then he found her eyes.
“Please, Katy … please come.”
Her flight didn’t leave until morning. But what about the paparazzi and crazy fans? “We’ll get caught.”
“Maybe.” He bit his lip. Then he came up with a plan: she would tuck her hair into a baseball cap. He would be sitting on 21
the beach behind his house. “If I’m being watched, the moment I see you coming, I’ll stand and head up my stairs.”
“Okay.” This was crazy. How could he live this way, worrying about people taking his picture, tracking his every move? Katy’s hands shook as she jotted the details on the napkin.
“If I go inside, you’ll stay on the beach for fifteen minutes, act like you’re watching the sunset. Then slip in through the door to my stairs. They’re fenced off.” He gave her a half smile. “Once you’re through the door at the bottom, the cameras can’t shoot you.”
She searched his face for clues. But before she
Katy tried to steel herself against what might be coming. Maybe he had finally realized there could never be anything more than a distant friendship between the two of them. Whatever was wrong, she wanted to be ready for the pain. Months had passed, after all. Dayne wasn’t with Kelly Parker anymore, but maybe he’d moved on-the way the tabloids hinted-to Angie Carr, his current costar.
But then why had he seemed so glad to see her at the courthouse earlier?
Dayne’s attorney was waving his hand, talking about the press. “They’ll eat up the story, folks. I can tell you that much.” He took a drink of his iced tea.
“Those prelims were dynamite.” He pointed at Dayne. “Your testimony alone makes the case a slam dunk.”
“Good.” Dayne poked his fork around at the wilting lettuce on his plate. “Then let’s give Katy a break. She can go home, and I’ll be the media circus.”
She blinked at him. Go home? Where did this attitude come from? When he was in Bloomington he’d told her several times that whatever was happening between them wasn’t finished yet. Not as long as the trial loomed ahead. But now …
Joe Morris was saying something about anyone witness to a crime was subject to testify, and that of course there was no way for Katy to get out of testifying.
But more than that, Katy could hear Dayne’s words: “Give Katy a break. She can go home … go home.”
Katy kept her answers short the last ten minutes of lunch, 20
talking only when Joe asked her a direct question about her flight or her availability.
Finally, the attorneys stood, and Joe motioned to the prosecutor. “Let’s talk out here for a minute.”
The prosecutor nodded. She was an intelligent, no-nonsense sort who had kept pace with Dayne’s attorney since the meeting at the courthouse.
They left the room, and Katy and Dayne were alone. He lifted his eyes to hers, but he looked weary, as if whatever was eating at him was almost more than he could bear.
“Did I … do something?” She pushed back her plate and rested her forearms on the table. She lifted her hands, baffled. “I feel like a stranger over here.”
“I’m sorry.” Dayne stood, but his movements were slow, troubled. He came to her and took the seat beside her, facing her. “We need to talk.”
Katy felt herself grow stiff. She pressed her spine against the back of the chair. Hide your feelings, Katy. Come on. “About what?”
Only then did she see it. The hurt in Dayne’s expression, the certainty that something had changed or happened. Whatever it was, the look in his eyes was so sad it moved her deeply.
He spoke straight to the loneliest places of her heart. “Later.” He looked up for a moment, then back at her. “Meet me at five o’clock tonight. Malibu Beach, a hundred yards south of the pier.”
She thought hard, her pulse faster than before. “I’m not sure I know how to get there.”
He grabbed a pen and a napkin and wrota^her directions. Then he found her eyes.
“Please, Katy … please come.”
Her flight didn’t leave until morning. But what about the paparazzi and crazy fans? “We’ll get caught.”
“Maybe.” He bit his lip. Then he came up with a plan: she would tuck her hair into a baseball cap. He would be sitting on 21
the beach behind his house. “If I’m being watched, the moment I see you coming, I’ll stand and head up my stairs.”
“Okay.” This was crazy. How could he live this way, worrying about people taking his picture, tracking his every move? Katy’s hands shook as she jotted the details on the napkin.
“If I go inside, you’ll stay on the beach for fifteen minutes, act like you’re watching the sunset. Then slip in through the door to my stairs. They’re fenced off.” He gave her a half smile. “Once you’re through the door at the bottom, the cameras can’t shoot you.”
She searched his face for clues. But before she
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