Tempted by Fate Read Online Free PDF Page B

force.
    She exhaled in anger, opening her eyes. Instead of feeling infused with fresh energy, she felt like she’d gone ten rounds with a Samoan.
    Frustrating. She wished she were more complete in her training. She remembered the smoothness with which her mother practiced her art.
    She wanted that for herself.
    As it was, it felt like part of her was missing. And if that wasn’t aggravating enough, she could sense the missing part just beyond her reach—like if she just tried harder, she could grasp it. Only no matter how hard she tried, it still remained out of reach.
    She pulled the flute out and began a slow, peaceful tune her mother used to play to calm her down. Today itmade her feel more sad than settled. She felt like she was letting her mom down, in more ways than one.
    Sighing, she put the flute away and unwound her legs to make her way back to the motel.
    Motel was overstating it. It was a dump. Calling her room threadbare was generous. But it was cheap, and the other tenants kept to themselves.
    Mostly. Except for the woman two doors down who always wanted to chat.
    Willow shook her head. She wasn’t a chatterer. Most people got the message, eventually, but the woman two doors down was relentless.
    Willow took care to walk noiselessly down the hall to her room. She slipped the key into the lock and twisted.
    The tumbler made a soft click as it unlocked.
    “Shit.” She hurried to open the door and duck inside.
    Behind her, a door opened. “You’re up and at ’em early this morning.”
    Too late. She dropped her head, wanting to just slip inside and shut the door behind her. But for some reason, she couldn’t ignore the woman. Latent manners rising to the surface? Whatever it was, it was damn annoying.
    “I thought I heard you go out, but you sneaked out quicker than I could get out of bed and pull my robe on.”
    Sighing, Willow turned around.
    “Oh, you went for a run.” The woman leaned on her cane in the doorway. She looked rough, like she’d had a hard life accented by alcohol and drugs. Her hair stood on end, the bleached strands brash against the dark roots. She looked close to sixty, but she could easily have been thirty. “I used to run, but now I’ve got a bum leg.”
    Willow glanced at the cane but said nothing.
    “You can’t tell now, but I used to dance, too. I loved to dance.” Her eyes went dreamy, probably remembering a better time.
    Willow could relate, and that made her feel uncomfortable. “I need to clean up.”
    The woman came back to herself, her smile slipping a little. “Of course. Silly me, keeping you here when you’re probably getting cold.”
    Willow felt like she’d kicked a puppy, but she wasn’t here to socialize—she was here to find the Bad Man. She retreated inside her room, said “Good-bye,” and closed the door before the woman could make a peep.
    Stripping out of her clothes, she showered, got dressed, and put on a modicum of makeup. She straightened her room, dumped everything she’d poached from the two bodies on the bed, and went through it. Again.
    Her cell phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the screen. It was Morgan, her business partner since they met almost eleven years ago, although Morgan often claimed they were more like sisters, having gone through so much time together over the years. Willow had no idea what having a sister was like, but if they were at turns irritating and endearing, then, yes, Morgan would be hers.
    Willow already knew the background on the man she’d hired, but Morgan would have answers about the other guy. She answered the phone. “What have you got?”
    “I miss you, too. It’s delightful hearing your voice after all this time.”
    The sarcasm in Morgan’s voice was so familiar, Willow instantly felt better. Not that she’d tell Morgan that. “Are you going to tell me what you found, or do we have to have tea and crumpets first?”
    “You’re so uncivilized. Good thing I love you.” The light tapping of