Secrets and Sins: Malachim (A Secrets and Sins Novel) (Entangled Ignite) Read Online Free PDF Page B

would be worried about her . Somewhere along the line, her soon-to-be-ex-employer had evolved into her self-appointed guardian. “Hey, I have to go. I’ll get the fifty out to you tomorrow. Talk to you later.”
    “Same bat-time, same bat-station,” Carmen drawled.
    Danielle smiled. Carmen had definitely inherited the sarcasm gene in the family. She tapped the end call button and dropped the phone in her bag. Her sister’s voice, weary yet edgy, replayed in Danielle’s head. She remembered that tone. The voice of a junkie in between highs. Jesus . If Carmen had started using drugs again…
    She squeezed her eyes shut. Rage welled inside her like a sudden spewing of a geyser, unexpected, hot, and strong. Carmen had been doing so well. So fucking well. The cool, oily slick of shame doused the fire in her stomach.
    Rainier Rule #6: Coarse language denotes a lack of adequate vocabulary and breeding.
    “Rainier Rules,” she rasped. “Fuck the rules. I don’t live by them anymore. They don’t control me.” The desperation in the words tasted like bitter fruit. Who are you trying to convince? a slippery whisper taunted.
    “I’m free,” she said, opening her eyes. “I’m free.”
    She looked forward to the day she could state those two words with conviction. And believe them.

Chapter Four
    The first clue of disaster was the swirl of blue and red lights.
    The second tip-off was the clusters of people gathered in and along the perimeter of the dark parking lot.
    The lights alone could have meant a traffic stop, but the people… Yeah, dead giveaway. In a neighborhood where people tended to mind their own business, only tragedy and gossip would’ve brought them outside to huddle in the cold, dark night. And since gossip was more comfortable conducted inside with heat and coffee, only one option remained.
    Tragedy.
    Danielle’s heart lodged in her throat, the frantic pulse allowing shallow, panicked gasps. Pat’s Diner. Dragging her bag across the passenger seat, she climbed from the car. A terrible dread fueled her steps as she hurried across the asphalt toward the first police cruiser. Several were scattered across the lot like haphazardly thrown dice. She skirted another car but was brought up short as she rounded the tail of the white and blue car. A tall police officer appeared, blocking her path. Frantically, she shifted to the side and peered over his shoulder. Where was Pat? Julie, his wife? What had happened?
    “Sorry, ma’am. I’m going to have to ask you to move back,” the young cop stated in a polite but firm voice that brooked no argument.
    “I work here,” she said, twisting the strap of her bag. She swallowed, attempting to moisten the desert landscape her mouth had become. Attempted to put aside her aversion to the police and be polite. “Please, let me pass.”
    “Sorry, I can’t do that.”
    Rationally, she understood the officer probably encountered nosy rubberneckers, hysterical family members, and annoying reporters often. He was just doing his job. But damn logic. The two people who had taken her in and offered her a semblance of normalcy might be hurt…or worse. Officer I-Am-the-Law could take his protocol and shove—
    “Dani.”
    Relief tackled her behind the knees at the sound of her name, and she would’ve crumpled to the ground if not for the support of the police car next to her. She leaned on the trunk, her gaze veering past the cop to land on Patrick Duncan. The emergency lights danced a macabre reel over his features, deepening the lines and crags of his sixty-something face. He seemed…tired.
    “Let her through, boyo,” he ordered in his faint Irish brogue.
    The officer briefly hesitated but moved to the side, silently granting her access to a scene straight out of Law & Order . The only thing missing was the distinct dum-dum of the gavel. At least ten uniformed cops and four plain-clothes detectives stood outside the diner’s glass front or spoke in low tones too