L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent Read Online Free PDF

simple fall. Temporary amnesia, fortunately, but it could have been much worse. So, while amnesia or other phenomena were unlikely, they weren’t outside the realm of possibility.
    Yet, no matter what scenario she posed to herself, the most horrible question of all remained. What if Rob had wanted to disappear? And if so, who was the man who’d died in his truck?
    No! That would not happen. Not in a million years. She rubbed her temples. She couldn’t even think it, not for a second. Rob had been her savior, her husband, her surrogate father and her best friend.
    She closed her eyes remembering the hopelessness and despair that was her life before Rob. A runaway at fifteen, she’d been living on the streets of East L.A., homeless, hungry and desperate—so desperate she’d been ready to prostitute herself to get money for food. The night she’d first tried had been the night she’d met Rob.
    He’d taken her in, cleaned her up and saved her from self-destruction. Ten years older, he’d been kind and patient and loving and never once asked for anything in return.
    When she’d offered herself in gratitude, he’d jokingly called her “jailbait.” He hadn’t touched her, said he wouldn’t until she was eighteen and they were married.
    He’d been a man of his word.
    Rob was a good man, an honorable man, and at that point in her life, he was the only honorable man she’d known. He’d taught her to trust again, and she was indebted to him. If she agreed to do what the detective wanted, wasn’t that the same as believing Rob wasn’t the man she thought he was?
    If she doubted him now, everything they’d had together would be tainted by that doubt, and she’d start second-guessing the only meaningful relationship she’d ever had.
    She couldn’t let that happen. He was Chloe’s father, for God’s sake.
    Chloe. Her stomach muscles clenched. Thank heaven Chloe wasn’t home.
    Rubbing her temples again, she drew in a deep breath. She had to pull herself together, forget the so-called “new information” the detective had foisted on her, because if she didn’t, she’d be a basket case by the time Chloe came home.
    But could she? Could she forget that there was a man out there impersonating Rob? A man who, no matter how remote the possibility, could be Rob?
    No. She couldn’t.
    Jillian headed for her bedroom, where she ditched her shorts and top for a pair of faded jeans, a gauzy white shirt and chunky sandals.
    Meadow Brook Nursing Home, where Rob’s mother now lived, was only a few miles away. Within minutes she pulled into one of the dozen empty spaces and exited her new red Mustang convertible, the only concession she’d made to conspicuous consumption now that she could afford it.
    After two strokes, her mother-in-law had never been the same. One day Harriet was her old spunky, cantankerous self, making Jillian’s life a living hell…and the next she was frail, faded and forgetful. Many times she didn’t even remember Jillian.
    “Hi, Mary Ann.” Jillian greeted the receptionist on her way in, then waved to some of the residents. “Hi, Jim. Mrs. Kramer.”
    She headed toward the lounge, breathing in the strange combination of air freshener and disinfectant—lilac and Pine-Sol. Harriet was sitting in a wheelchair amid half a dozen other residents. Her silver hair, accented by one dark swoop down the left side, was easy to pick out among the sea of gray.
    “Hi, Harriet. How’s the world’s greatest gin rummy player?” The older woman looked up at the sound of her name, and Jillian bent to give her mother-in-law a hug. Harriet was wearing her I-can’t-place-you smile.
    Undaunted, Jillian said, “Your granddaughter is a real pill, Harriet. I had one heck of a time getting Chloe out the door today. She went with the Wakefields to their cabin for the remainder of the summer vacation, so she won’t be able to visit for a couple of weeks.”
    At the mention of her granddaughter, the old woman’s