The 3rd Victim Read Online Free PDF

want to take her to Mick's. She loves his home-made oatmeal, and he spoils her rotten.’
    Sara was referring to one of their favourite eating haunts, the harbour-side café Myrtle McGee's, and its proprietor, the larger-than-life Mick.
    ‘Uncle Mick,’ cried Lauren, lifting her mitt in the air.
    ‘Well I guess that's settled,’ said David, now thinking ahead. ‘Actually, Joe left a message on my cell saying he wanted to catch up. I might call him and see if he wants to meet us for a late breakfast.’
    ‘Uncle Joe!’ exclaimed Lauren.
    Sara smiled. ‘He probably feels guilty for running out on us last night. I know he finds those things trying but … I kind of had fun,’ she said.
    ‘Must have been your date,’ said David, kissing her quickly on the cheek before she scooted past him heading for the door.
    ‘Don't get into too much trouble,’ she added as she grabbed her keys from the entryway table.
    ‘Trouble is our business – we're lawlers don't forget.’
    ‘That's what I'm afraid of,’ she grinned, before moving swiftly out the door.
    *
    ‘Well, well, well, what do we have here then?’ Mick McGee tossed his kitchen towel over his broad shoulder before placing his hands on his hips. ‘I would like to think it was the cutest toddler in Boston but –’ the round-faced, cherry-topped Mick grinned – ‘it seems to me that this mornin' she's been hijacked by some high-powered business tycoon.’
    It had come down to some serious bargaining, Lauren agreeing to lose the mitt, the Yankees cap and the loafers in return for keeping the shirt and three of the four striped ties.
    ‘Lauren Daddy,’ announced a delighted Lauren, now reaching out for Mick.
    ‘So you are, but not to worry,’ smiled Mick, taking the toddler in his arms. ‘With any luck you'll grow out of it –’ he winked, ‘and end up just like your mother.’
    ‘She doesn't get the joke, Mick,’ smiled David.
    ‘Who said I was joking?’ beamed Mick before turning his attention back to Lauren. ‘What say you sit up in the highchair behind the counter with me while Daddy and your Uncle Joe have some breakfast?’
    ‘Joe's here already?’ asked David, who had only called him a half-hour ago.
    ‘He's hibernating in the booth at the far back corner.’ Mick used his thumb to point behind him. ‘That is what grumpy old bears tend to do, right?’ He tousled Lauren's hair.
    ‘Joe's in a mood?’ asked David.
    Mick nodded. ‘But knowing our friend Mannix, he probably has good reason – said something about attending that abduction last night.’
    ‘I heard about it,’ said David, recalling the report he had heard on the car radio on his way to Mick's. The news bite had sent a momentary shiver of fear up his spine – David's whole attitude to crime had shifted the moment Lauren was born.
    ‘You'll yell if she's too much of a handful?’ said David.
    ‘Miss Bacall a handful?’ said Mick. ‘Never! You go chat while me and my girl here chow down on some hot porridge with banana.’
    ‘Thanks, Mick,’ said David as he turned to make his way slowly toward the figure at the back of the room.

6
    T here is a millisecond, just before you open your eyes, when your lashes resist the movement. It is like they cling together for comfort, holding tight to that world where light, and all the bad things illuminated by it, remain safely out of reach.
    Sienna Walker's long, black lashes were matting at their tips, clinging to the darkness until the basic human instinct to check on her surroundings kicked in – and with it came the memory, the realisation of where she was, and the gravity of the loss she had suffered.
    ‘Eliza,’ she said, the most important word in her universe now catching in her throat. ‘My sweet little girl,’ this time louder, the panic exploding like an A-bomb in her chest. ‘Oh god …’ She arched her back before contracting into a curl, and then, in reflex, moving to wrap her arms tightly around her knees. But