Moonlight Masquerade Read Online Free PDF

lights. The car was coming straight at her! She could clearly see the BMW symbol just a few feet away. Survival was the only thing on her mind. She threw up her arms and like a diver heading into the water, she dove straight for the side of the road. She landed, facedown, in the sharp branches of a clump of scrub oak, her mouth full of dirt. Quickly, she turned to look back toward the road. She was just in time to see a sleek little silver blue BMW drive over both her phone and the book. Thankfully, she’d been wearing her handbag crosswise, so it was still with her. The car kept going; it didn’t stop.
    All of Sophie hurt as she got up, hobbled onto the road to retrieve the remains of the phone, and picked up the envelope. There were tire tracks across it and one edge had been torn open. There was little light but she could see that the book inside was frayed, the pages bent. She didn’t know if it had been that way or if it had been done by the reckless driver in the BMW.
    Sophie carried everything to the side of the road and for a moment she fought back tears. Maybe she wouldn’t have been prosecuted if she’d returned the book in pristine condition, but now it looked to be nearly destroyed. She was going to prison because of some jerk in a Bimmer.
    As she pulled leaves out of her hair, raked dirt out of her mouth, and brushed at bloody scrapes on her arms and legs, she knew her logic was flawed, but ifshe didn’t give her anger an outlet she’d fall down into a ditch and never get out.
    She started walking. This time she didn’t step aside for the cars, but kept going. Three cars, each with a single male driver, asked if she wanted a ride. The anger in her was increasing with every step and she had glared at the men as she said no.
    Her legs ached, the cuts and scrapes on her arms and legs hurt, her feet were blistering. In fact, it seemed that every inch of her was in pain. But the image of the expensive car driving over the book kept her going. In her mind, it was just like Carter driving over her. He’d never looked back either. She put one foot in front of the other, each step so hard it jarred her body. But she kept going, never slowing down—just as the driver had done.
    She heard the noise of the tavern before she saw it. It wasn’t particularly loud, but when the door was opened the music, a mixture of rock and country, floated out.
    Sophie’s steps began to slow down. Here at last was civilization. She’d be able to call a cab. Or maybe her landlady, Mrs. Wingate, could come and get her. If this town of Edilean was as good as Kim had said it was, there would be help.
    When Sophie stopped and waited for a car to pass, she saw it. In the far left of the parking lot was the silvery BMW that had nearly run over her, had destroyed her phone, and was probably going to cause Sophie to spend a few years in prison. She put her head forward, set her sore jaw in a hard line, the recipe book in itstorn envelope under her arm, and strode across the street.
    Inside the restaurant, the lights blinded her for a moment, so she stood in the doorway to look around. It was a quiet place, with booths full of people eating huge amounts of fried food. Very American. To the left was a big jukebox, a dance floor, and some tables with men and women drinking beer from pitchers and eating great bowls full of chicken wings.
    Sophie had been sure that she’d be able to pick out the person who’d nearly killed her.
    Over the last several miles she’d conjured an image of a long face, close-together eyes, even big ears. She imagined him to be tall and thin, and of course he was rich. Carter’s family was rich. If he ran over a woman, he’d wonder why she didn’t get out of his way. Would he call it his “summer hit-and-run”?
    She walked to the bar along the wall and waited for the bartender to come to her. He was a young man, blond and blue eyed.
    â€œHey!