The Gift Read Online Free PDF

hoped that eerie feeling she’d had when they first arrived had been nothing but a long day and a sour stomach. She blew out a long breath and faced Malone.
    “Let’s save the kitchen for another time,” she suggested. “I’ve terrorized Pearl enough for today.”
    “Fair enough.” Ty’s lips curved and his eyes twinkled. “Thanks.”
    “No problem.” Damn. Why’d he have to be nice and good looking?
    “Parlor’s this way.” A clock chimed twice. “Kids’ll be home in two hours.”
    “This won’t take long.” Beth admired his commitment to his children, though all of this could be an act. Lorilee could be waiting for them all to join her in some tropical paradise right now.
    Along with her seven-figure insurance settlement.
    Beth planned to follow up on the painting angle. Was Lorilee pursuing her interest in art somewhere? Perhaps even selling her work? Could she be traced that way? Beth made a note to contact an art expert she’d worked with a few times back in Chicago.
    Antiques coexisted with contemporary comfort in the parlor. She ran her fingertip along the polished cherry of the rolltop desk near the archway. “Nice.”
    “Lorilee spent years collecting these pieces,” Malone explained. He stood in the center of the room, thumbs hooked through his belt loops. “We spent a lot of weekends at antique and estate sales.”
    Beth waited for him to face her again before she spoke. She wanted—no, needed—to see the expression on his face. Holding her breath, she counted. One, two, three, four…
    Finally, he turned, but his expression was bland. Not tortured. He didn’t look like a man still madly in love with his dead wife—or with a wife who could still be alive, for that matter.
    And why the hell did knowing that make relief ease through Beth? No, she should consider this evidence. Get with the program, Dearborn. He wasn’t tortured, because he knew his wife was safe and sound somewhere else. Right?
    She licked her suddenly dry lips and tried to ignore the quickening of her pulse. There was another possibility she had to consider—one the former homicide detective in her couldn’t completely discount.
    Was it possible that Ty Malone wasn’t worried about his wife’s fate because he knew exactly what had happened to her?

C HAPTER T HREE
    Ty didn’t know whether to stand his ground or to escape while he still could. One minute she was polite and friendly, the next she pissed him off by insinuating Lorilee had abandoned her family. Of course, the fact that Beth’s sex appeal had pushed him to the brink of self-control didn’t ease back any on his confusion meter.
    “Anything in particular you’d like to see in here?” He deliberately glanced at the clock again. “ Before the kids get home from school?”
    “I’ll be out of here before four o’clock, as promised.”
    She flashed him another of those smiles that transformed her whole face. He caught his breath. Hell, he’d be better off if she’d just stick to hard-ass investigator and leave the sex kitten persona for some other poor sucker. He shoved his hands into his pockets, reminding himself that his hormones had probably translated her common courtesy into more than she’d intended.
    Seven years of living like a damned monk could do that to a man.
    “Is this Lorilee’s desk or yours?” she asked, still touching the wood.
    “It was Lorilee’s desk,” Ty corrected.
    Dearborn rolled her eyes. “Was. Sorry. Momentary lapse.” She started to raise the top. “Er, may I?”
    “Looks like you already are.” He grinned. “Be my guest.” Ty folded his arms and watched the investigator’s wild curls spiral down her back to her waist. He’d never seen so much hair on one human head. Almost as if she sensed the direction of his thoughts, she pulled the same elastic band from her pocket, swept the mass onto the top of her head, and secured it again.
    She had a pretty neck—long and slender. He licked his lips, imagining