Prodigal Son Read Online Free PDF

than she thought. Now what had she been doing? Oh, that’s right. Checking into the hotel. Might as well, since the room was free. Once she’d checked in, she could head over to Danny’s place and see if there were any clues to where he’d gone.
    With a nod at Mr. Gray, she left Bartow’s office and headed for the elevator.
    *   *   *
    “Do you think she knows anything?” Bartow asked, watching the woman punch the elevator button through the glass wall of his office.
    “I’m not certain.” Adrian Gray turned away from the hallway where Cara McGaffigan had just disappeared. She’d looked younger than he’d expected.
    Bartow paced the room, twisting his fingers together. “I need to get it back, Gray. My numerologist said this is going to be a very unlucky year for me. The Stone is rumored to bring good luck to the possessor.”
    “So you’ve said.”
    “I need the luck to stay in business.”
    “I understand.”
    “Damn that kid! How did he know how to get into the safe? Or even that I had the Stone?” Bartow swiped his hand over his face. “I would never have figured Cangialosi had the smarts or the connections to steal it right out from under me.” He jerked his head up, his expression approaching panic. “We have to get it back! I’ll be ruined if we don’t!”
    “We’ll get it back.” Adrian held Bartow’s gaze, concentrated. “You aren’t going to worry. You’re going to leave this to me.”
    Bartow smiled, tension evaporating from his body like rising steam. “I’m not going to worry. I’m leaving this to you. Security is your job, right?”
    “Yes, security is my job.”
    “So I’m not going to worry,” Bartow repeated. “I’ll leave this to you.” He waved a dismissive hand and returned to his desk chair, hitting a couple of keys on his computer to bring up a screen of financials.
    Adrian waited a beat, but Bartow didn’t look up. He left the office, his boss buried in reports. The Cangialosi thing might have blown up in his face, but at least he still had Bartow under firm control.
    He wouldn’t lose command of the situation again.

CHAPTER THREE
    Rafe sat at the red light, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel of his SUV. The whole deal with Danny Cangialosi was chafing at him like sand in his shorts. Ever since he could remember, he’d always gotten his man. His gift had never failed him before.
    For one moment, he wished he could ask someone about it. But the only people who would understand would be his family, and that wasn’t an option. Nope, he was on his own.
    Better that way anyway.
    The light turned green, and he sailed through it, flicking on his signal to turn into the parking lot of Cangialosi’s apartment. With his superpowers out of the picture on this one, he was going to have to track this guy down the old-fashioned way. It would be good for him. Challenging.
    Ha. Even he didn’t believe it. But he’d do what he could with the tools available. He parked the car and climbed out, then glanced around.
    The complex wasn’t nearly the dump he had expected, but it wasn’t brand new, either. No security to speak of, but not exactly roach central. Cangialosi’s file flagged his place as unit twelve, so he made his way over there and stopped before the weathered front door. He swept a hand over the top of the doorframe. His fingers snagged on something sticky. He fumbled around, got a grip on the edge of what felt like tape, and pulled. A piece of duct tape ripped loose, and stuck to it was a key.
    Don’t have to be psychic for that one. Oldest trick in the book.
    Moments later he was standing in Cangialosi’s living room.
    The place smelled like a Dumpster. According to the file, this guy had been MIA for about three weeks. According to the crusted food on the dishes in the sink, the file was right. The answering machine blinked with fifteen messages.
    Quietly, he closed the door and began looking for clues as to where Mr. Cangialosi might be