If Looks Could Kill Read Online Free PDF Page A

with them. He was young, excited.
    â€œWe’re on the brink of something really good happening. I’ve sold some of my songs, we’ve had the big music people down to see us—”
    Madison finished her drink and stood. “Joey, I don’t want to be a performer. I have a daughter. I have a career that’s going better than I actually wanted it to.”
    â€œBecause you look like your mother,” he said.
    She stared at him, and he shrugged.
    â€œSorry, but she was famous. I’ve seen lots and lots of pictures of her, and you do look just like her. Is that why you don’t want to perform?”
    â€œJoey, honestly, I just don’t want to go out on the road—”
    â€œAll right, all right, no going on the road, I promise.”
    â€œGroups can make it or break it on the road,” she reminded him.
    â€œI have a wife and two kids myself,” he told her. “Lots of groups have survived nicely just by doing local gigs and being studio musicians, and we have some great studios here. My sizzling desire for fame and fortune has been somewhat dampened by the reality of life,” he added dryly. “So, would you do a few demos with us? Would you sing live with us now and then, when we’ve got some of the suits in the audience?”
    His flames might have been dampened, but he was still a determined dreamer. And she liked him. He was blunt and honest, not to mention she’d had fun singing with the band.
    She shrugged. “Sure,” she told him. “Sure…”
    Â 
    Madison closed her eyes for a moment, then swung her legs over the side of the bed. Time to stop thinking about the past. Time to get moving.
    Life had settled into a pattern for her, and she was happy, she told herself firmly
    Well, okay, maybe not completely happy—she was too restless to be happy. She was a young divorced mom living in the same city as most of her family, so she had people who loved her around her—yet she was independent.
    There were still the dreams, and when they came, she called Jimmy. But the dreams weren’t all that frequent, and she was resigned to having them. Sometimes she would go with Jimmy to a crime scene, and sometimes she was able to get a feel for something, or have a flash of insight. She was seldom tormented by the visions.
    As she had been today.
    She straightened her hair and skirt, and caught sight of herself in the mirror again. “Don’t whine, Madison! If you’re not happy as a little lark, at least you’re basically content in life!”
    But her reflection remained grave. She felt restless. Uneasy.
    As if, suddenly, things were going to come full circle.
    As if the past itself were going to come back and haunt her life….
    She gave herself a serious shake. She was working tonight. And come Monday, she would help Jimmy. She’d helped him before. Tonight it was time to have some dinner with Carrie Anne and her dad, if he was around, and get going.
    Yet as she started for her daughter’s room, she still couldn’t quite shake an uncomfortable feeling. Not just the fear and pain the dream had evoked for a stranger.
    An unease that curled around her heart…
    Much, much closer to home.

2
    K yle knew that he fit in fine. He might be a “suit” from Washington now, but he was a Florida boy from way back, and he knew how to sit in a Key West bar and blend in with the scenery.
    He was wearing cutoff jeans, scuffed Top-Siders and a worn short-sleeved cotton shirt, open at the throat and halfway down his chest. He wore dark sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead, and he sat at a table located in the rear, where shadows fell, leaning back in his chair, legs sprawled on the chair before him as he nursed his beer. He could pass for a tourist—or a local. He guessed that he was actually somewhere in between. Jordan Adair owned this particular place, and it was popular. Folks