Seeing Red Read Online Free PDF Page A

figure among hundreds. But he’d found her.
    She’d looked happy and hopeful . . . whole. It had made his heart swell to see it, making it worth all the contriving he’d had to do to get there.
    And then, a couple of years later, he’d slipped into Belle Island and watched her teach her self-defense class in the park. His identity had been protected by the tinted windows of a rental car—and he’d never been so tempted to throw caution out the window.
    She’d developed into a very striking woman—tall, athletic, with those exotic green eyes and full lips. He’d always known she’d be a knockout. But watching her instruct those girls with passion animating every feature, every action, he’d felt a deep stirring he’d not expected. The kind of stirring that makes men risk rejection and ask for women’s phone numbers.
    His surprise at this feeling had only been surpassed by his shock at its intensity. He’d been tempted to initiate things that would spell disaster for him—and wouldn’t do her a bit of good either.
    Before he weakened and revealed himself to her, he’d started the car and driven away.
    He hadn’t dared to go back since. Until now. With Hollis Alexander out of prison, the risk of Nate
not
going outweighed the risk of his returning to Belle Island.
    The airline called his row for boarding.
    Nate folded his newspaper and stood, but he remained where he was until the young mother’s group was called. Then he followed her to the Jetway entrance and handed his boarding pass to the gate attendant.
    With all the impotent fury of a father who had been unable to protect his child, Greg Reinhardt started dialing Victim Services five minutes before the office in the state capital was scheduled to open. On his sixteenth dial, at exactly eight-oh-one, someone picked up the phone.
    “I need to speak to Valerie Scatterfield.” Scatterfield had been assigned as the “liaison” for Laura’s case. She’d taken over last year when Cyrus Boone had retired. Greg had never felt comfortable with the change—obviously for good reason, as things now stood.
    A father of three daughters, Cyrus had taken a special interest in Laura’s case, had been there from the beginning. To Valerie Scatterfield, a childless veteran of bureaucracy, Laura was simply another victim years past the crime, just another case number.
    “May I tell Ms. Scatterfield who’s calling and what this is regarding?”
    “Tell her it’s Greg.” Hopefully the guard dog on the other end of the line would hurry this along like a personal call, which it was, personal to
him
anyway.
    “One moment.”
    When Valerie Scatterfield answered the phone, she sounded breathless, as if she’d hurried from the coffee station to take the call. “This is Valerie.”
    “This is Greg Reinhardt. Laura Reinhardt’s father.”
    “What can I do for you, Mr. Reinhardt?” There was no recognition in her voice.
    “You can tell me how in the hell Hollis Alexander got paroled and we weren’t notified about the hearing.”
    He heard paper shuffling. “I’m sorry, who was the inmate again?”
    “Hollis Alexander. Ridgeland Correctional. Supposed to be serving a thirty-year sentence for raping and beating my daughter to death.”
    “Murder or manslaughter?”
Chocolate or vanilla? Coffee or tea?
    Greg wanted to reach right through this phone line and wring her neck. Why in goddamn hell did Cyrus have to retire? “Neither. It took her four years to die.”
    “Oh. I’m very sorry,” she said, her tone changing drastically. Apparently, that appalling fact pierced her professional armor. He heard a keyboard in the background. “We do have him listed as paroled on May twenty-third. He’s in transition housing, which is good. Let’s see . . . He’s to meet with his parole officer this morning and is due to meet with him again next Monday, then every two weeks thereafter. As a sex offender, he has to stay away from schools, parks, and playgrounds. And,