Return to Paradise Read Online Free PDF

sounding too much like an ex-boyfriend who’s trying to drop the“ex” part. “Plus, if John came back looking for me, he’d be heartbroken if I wasn’t here.”
    “He’d be an idiot if he came back to Paradise,” I mutter. The words come out before I can stop them, so I try to explain. “I mean, with all the suits running around here.”
    As if she overheard this as her cue, the red-haired woman gets up and walks over. She slides into the booth beside Sarah. Before I can react, there’s another dark-suited person sliding in beside me—a man who looks like he’s in his late twenties, with olive skin and close-cropped black hair.
    We’re trapped in the booth.
    “What the—,” I start.
    “You’re Mark James,” the red-haired woman says. “The sheriff’s son. And you’re Sarah Hart.”
    “What do you—,” Sarah says.
    “My name is Agent Walker, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and this is my associate, Agent Noto. I hope you don’t mind if we join you.”
    “We do,” I say, narrowing my eyes.
    Agent Walker smiles. Noto hasn’t said a word or done anything but stare back and forth between Sarah and me. I wonder how close he was to us. Did he hear me talking about the blog earlier? Does he know what we’ve been talking about?
    “We’re just trying to get an idea of what happenedwith John Smith here in town. As you probably know, he’s a person of high interest. There are several incredibly generous rewards that are being offered for any information on his whereabouts.” She turns her attention to me. “I was sorry to hear about what happened to your home, by the way. But I’m sure the reward money could go far in rebuilding.”
    Is this woman really trying to bribe me into telling her about John?
    “After all, I’m told the blaze started at a party you were throwing,” she continues. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering how you can make things up to your parents after something like that.”
    My mouth drops open a little, and I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut.
    “You’ve been watching me,” Sarah says, changing the subject. “I’ve seen you.”
    “Of course you’ve seen me,” the woman says. “We wanted you to know that we’re here, keeping the town safe.”
    “You’re following me,” Sarah says, gritting her teeth a little.
    “I’m simply doing my job by ensuring that we follow up on every lead.”
    “And you think Sarah is a lead?” I ask.
    “We think you know more about John Smith than you might even realize.” Walker never takes her eyesoff Sarah. “You were dating him. You must have some information that would be relevant to our investigation. Something that might help us to decipher exactly what happened at your school.”
    “I hardly knew him,” Sarah says, staring down at the table. “We weren’t dating.”
    “We saw a video that looked like he was flying out of your burning house,” the woman says to me. She turns back to Sarah. “He was carrying you.”
    Sarah smiles.
    “It’s crazy what you can do with cameras and a few hours on the computer, isn’t it?” she asks.
    “Sam was always good at stuff like that when we had presentations at school,” I add. “He probably did it.”
    Sarah kicks me under the table. I can’t figure out why until the agent turns to me and smiles.
    “Samuel Goode. His mother, Patricia Goode, is a nurse. Father is Malcolm Goode, a . . .” She pauses for a moment before smiling a bit. “Current whereabouts unknown. Sam hasn’t been home since that night either. His mother is worried sick about him. It would be nice if she had any assurance that her son was alive.”
    “Sam is . . . ,” Sarah starts, but then stalls. I recognize the look on her face. She’s trying to connect all the dots and carefully plotting out what she’s going to say.
    Speaking carefully has never been my strong suit.
    “Sam Goode is a conspiracy theory nut job,” I say, lounging back in my booth a little. “That little