Scandal in Seattle Read Online Free PDF

moment.
    G might have preferred me to take a couple of days to stand off in the distance and observe Henry, but that was like commanding a tiger to sit and stay as a lamb trotted by. Nope, sitting on the sidelines for any amount of time on that Errand wasn’t happening.
    After I slid inside of the Mustang, I turned the key in the ignition. I couldn’t help the smile that formed when the engine roared to life. I also couldn’t help stroking the dashboard affectionately. I’d seen some sweet cars in my life, but that one knocked the rest out of the water. It was only temporary, of course, and only selected because Henry’s file noted he was a fan of classic cars. But for the second, I would forget all of that and just enjoy the random happy moment. Those were the only joys I experienced anymore.
    Once I’d shoved aside my one-sided love affair with the car, I pulled out of my parking space and headed north. The Callahans’ oceanfront mansion was about five miles up the coast in a part of town that looked like the sidewalks might have been paved with gold. If G ever wanted to land the Eves another Ten, all she had to do was patrol that stretch of Northern California coastline. I doubted anyone around there made less than Ten.
    After cruising by the Callahans’ and the rest of the football stadium-sized mansions, I cruised a couple of miles north until I came to a public park. The parking lot was quiet except for several cars and one hippy Volkswagen van with a couple of surfboards on the roof.
    The air was cool on my legs, making me glad I’d tossed on a tunic sweater. After marching a few hundred yards down the beach, I spread out my blanket and plopped down to enjoy the morning. Or to pretend to enjoy the morning. I wasn’t there for the morning sun—I was there to lure an ex-flame into my web.
    How did I know Henry would make the first leg of his run north? Because he’d always started his beach runs heading north. He’d run a few miles north before turning around and heading back. He said going south always felt a bit more uphill, and he liked saving the hard part for last.
    Saving the hard part for last was a novel concept to me. Life—and all its bits and pieces—had always seemed like the hard part to me. Except for that part. The revenge part.
    That was just plain fun.
    The waves had almost lulled me into a trance when a familiar figure jogging up the beach caught my attention. His mop of hair bounced with every other step, and while his gait was familiar, his pace had slowed. Even from a distance, I could see he’d grown slimmer. Henry had never been a muscled-out beefcake, but he’d been a far cry from lanky thin. So time hadn’t been kind to the young runner’s body of his I remembered. That should have made me overjoyed, but the first emotion I felt was something that tipped the sad scale.
    The moment that registered, I gave myself a hard pinch on the arm and twisted. I should have followed it up with a slap to the face. I couldn’t believe I felt any kind of remorse for Henry Callahan.
    I hoped that face that used to make me sigh and gasp—depending on its expression—had seen the same wear and tear his body had. The closer he got, however, revealed that his face was just as sigh-gasp-worthy as it had been when we’d first met.
    Well, shit.
    But I knew what was behind that face, what that person was capable of, and I wouldn’t fall for the easy-on-the-eyes facade again.
    Just as I was about to rise and “casually” meander down the beach to stage our totally coincidental meeting, I noticed the equally familiar four-legged figure jogging by Henry’s side.
    But not before the giant dog noticed me. With one low, thunderous bark, the Great Dane switched directions and tore toward me, kicking up clumps of sand. I heard Henry call her a few times before loping after the dog. I’d been anticipating our meeting since the night I wound up with his file, but as Henry Callahan jogged in my direction,