Return of the Prodigal Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

of foul play and ruled the crash an accident.
    Donovan sighed and tossed aside the documents.
    He shouldn’t have taken this on. He had a book to write. A life to sort through. The last thing he needed was a greedy investment counselor and his grieving family messing with his mind.
    He decided to walk down the hill for his mail. It was nearly a mile from his house to the main highway, where the mail was delivered. He liked it that way. It was one more thing that didn’t intrude on his solitude.
    After rummaging through a box for a clean T-shirt, he had to hunt up his shoes. He found one by the door, the other beside his bed. He picked his way between boxes and stepped out onto the porch, surprised to see that it was already late afternoon.
    As he started along the path between towering evergreens, a fat woodchuck sat up and watched from behind a screen of ferns.
    Seeing him, Donovan frowned. “Hiding out from those city kids, aren’t you?” He shook his head. “I don’t blame you. They don’t know enough to leave wild things alone.”
    The woodchuck waddled away, leaving the ferns rustling. As he continued along the gravel path, it occurred to Donovan that he could have been talking about himself as well. He was comfortable alone. Always had been. He resented the intrusion of other people into his life. That’s why his government career had been such a perfect fit. Not only was he not expected to make permanent attachments, but it was actually frowned upon. A man with a wife and children was a liability. The most effective men in his work were, like him, loners, with nothing to lose except their own lives. As for being wild, it went with the territory. There had been no timid men in his line of work. At least none who’d survived.
    He caught sight of the rental house up ahead and lifted his head at the smell of woodsmoke. Since it was too warm for a fire in the fireplace, it must mean they were having a cookout. He stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and noticed that the front porch had been swept and the cobwebs removed from the overhang. Not that it mattered. Though he owned the house, he didn’t care what they did with it. As far as he was concerned, it was theirs as long as they paid the rent.
    He followed the rough road to the highway and paused at the row of mailboxes. After retrieving his mail he started back along the same trail. He hadn’t taken more than a couple of steps before he felt the hair at the back of his neck begin to prickle. He paused to tie his shoe. As he did, he chanced a quick glance around. Though there was no one in sight, he was certain he was being watched. It was second nature to Donovan to always trust his instincts.
    Tucking his mail in his back pocket he continued walking, all the while listening for any sound that seemed out of place. Gradually he sorted it out. A soft footfall in the woods to his left. Definitely not an animal. He slowed his pace, and realized that the footsteps slowed, as well. When he picked up the pace, he could hear the footsteps moving faster.
    When he reached a spot where the trees grew together, forming an arch that blotted out the light, he took a quick turn into the woods, pausing beside the trunk of a tree. Within moments he saw a shadow approaching. In one smooth motion he reached out and closed his hand around a skinny wrist.
    Cory Brady let out a yelp and looked as though he’d just seen a ghost. “Hey. What’re you doing?”
    “I might ask you the same thing. Anyone sneaking up on me could find himself in a whole lot of trouble.” He released the boy’s wrist and noted the quick flare of challenge in Cory’s eyes. “Something in particular you wanted to know about me? Or were you just having fun?”
    “How’d you know I was here?” Cory rubbed his flesh and wondered at this man’s strength. The boy’s arm felt as though it had been caught in a steel trap.
    “Maybe I have eyes in the back of my head.”
    “Only moms have