Legend of the Sorcerer Read Online Free PDF Page A

at the handwriting on the envelope. The neatly printed block letters weren’t close to his own scrawl. He debated interrogating her, but decided he’d better look at the pictures first.
    He sat on his motorcycle and fingered the selfstick flap. Maybe he should just go directly to the police, but maybe this was some sick prank. He tore open the flap and slid out a glossy stack of prints. He wasn’t at all prepared for what greeted him.
    She was quite lovely
.
    She had a gamine face with short auburn hair that was lifted by the wind, blowing in soft spikes around her face. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, her mouth small and full. She had a graceful neck, or maybe it was the wispy tendrils that clung to it that made it appear so. She wore a skinny-strapped white tank top and no bra, although there wasn’t much there to require one. She looked short, with well-toned arms and a flat, tanned belly, shown off by the baggy khaki shorts slung low on her hips. The heavy leather sandals should have looked like clodhoppers on her feet, instead they made her seem all the more earthy and natural. Her crooked smile was somewhat shy, as if she knew a secret. But there was a twinkle in those eyes, as if it were a secret she was just dying to tell.
    It took several seconds before he pulled his gaze from the woman’s face and noticed the background. The glass door behind her had the words The Mangrove Hotel stenciledon it. It was a relatively new place, just opened the year before.
    So, she was here. Or had been here.
    He flipped through the rest of the photos. They were mostly shots of the shore; sunrises, sunsets, narrow focus shots of wildflowers, the occasional manatee or waterfowl. They looked like someone’s vacation photos. A chill raced over his skin. Had this nut snatched some innocent vacationer right off the beach?
    Then he realized the obvious. The kidnapper didn’t have to be in Wales, just have an e-mail account there. She could have been here in the Keys all along. In fact, maybe there was no victim. Maybe the pictures were of Margaron herself and this whole thing was a sick, sick joke.
    Oh, how he wanted to believe that. Yet, he thought of the smiling woman in the photo and couldn’t imagine that either. He had to go to the police. He’d deal with Eileen later.
    The road to the Mangrove PD took him right past the Mangrove Hotel. He found himself turning in. The chances of the woman still being here were slim. But he had to find out.
    He swung off his bike and pulled out the photo. “Who are you?” he asked under his breath.
    Then he looked up … and saw her.

F IVE

    J ordy had that odd feeling she was being stared at. Tammi Peters finished drawing her dragon with a wild flair of purple flame coming from his mouth, making Jordy smile. “Now, there’s a royal dragon if I ever saw one.”
    She shook off the feeling and looked over the artwork of the other four children.
    “What fierce beasts,” she exclaimed. “I’m impressed.”
    “Can we take them to show our parents?” asked Johnny. Jordy nodded. “Let’s clean up. Tomorrow we’ll get out the paint.” The kids cheered and began noisily gathering up their pastels, crayons, and markers. Jordy watched with great satisfaction as the kids ran to Carol, the head counselor, babbling about the fun they’d had. Taking this job had definitely been the right choice. Working with the kids, seeing their unbridled enthusiasm for even the smallest of projects, watching their eyes spark as their imaginations took over … it reminded her of what she’d lost. But in a good way. It made her look at creativity through the eyes of a child, as something fun. Simplified. It gave her hope.
    She waved good-bye and returned Carol’s thumbs-up.
    “Excuse me.”
    Startled by the deep voice so close by, Jordy whirled around.
    “Could I speak to you for a minute?”
    His voice was quiet, but there was an underlying intensity that was a bit unnerving.
    “I’m sorry, but