True Lies Read Online Free PDF

and as brilliant as the rising sun that glowed above the forested hills. Her cheeks rounded, displaying an unexpected dimple at one corner of her mouth. Her entire face relaxed with uncomplicated pleasure and innocent joy.
    Bruce clenched the fist he’d jammed into his pocket, reminding himself yet again to maintain his objectivity as well as his cover. Being alone for the day on an isolated lake would put him in an ideal position to learn more about Emma Cassidy. Even if there was a possibility that she wasn’t guilty of being part of the smuggling ring, the trail had led to her, so she would have to know something about it. If he gained her trust, got closer to her, he could use her to lead him to the criminals.
    Without warning, a memory surfaced from a case he had worked on the previous year. He had used someone then, too. In order to do his job, he had manipulated an innocent man into risking his life. He had accomplished what he had set out to do, but at what cost?
    You used him. You and your disgusting masquerades, you don’t care who gets hurt. All you see is your job, your rigid picture of right and wrong...
    But he was a cop. It was his job to see nothing but right and wrong. This job was his life, it was all he had. After Lizzie’s death, it had been all that had kept him going. He’d never experienced these kinds of doubts before.
    God, maybe he really did need a vacation.
    A light breeze had sprung up by the time they reached the lake Emma had pointed out on her map. She used the pattern of the ripples on the surface to gauge the direction and strength of the ground level wind, expertly bringing the plane to a near stall seconds before the pontoons kissed the water.
    They spent the morning fishing for bass. She took Bruce to spots she had found on past trips, like the place near a pair of rocky islands where on a calm day you could actually look down and see the dark shapes of the fish moving below, but as she had already guessed, Bruce was hopeless as far as his angling skills were concerned. By the time the sun drew overhead, he had managed to land no more than two small fish, even though the brand new rod that Hugh had sold him had bent double with heavy strikes several times.
    Emma lounged against a life jacket in the stern, her hat tipped over her face so that she could study Bruce unobtrusively. Not that there was much to see. Dark glasses covered his eyes, and he had a way of tipping his face so that the brim of that grimy baseball cap obscured what the beard didn’t.
    It almost appeared as if he were trying to hide. She knew all about hiding, but what made Bruce do so? Was it because of his weight? His clumsiness?
    The canoe wobbled alarmingly as he juggled his rod to a different position. Another bass fought its way to freedom. “Oh, heck,” he muttered.
    Reaching into the padded lunch sack in front of her, Emma withdrew an apple and held it up. “Would you like to have something to eat?”
    He propped his rod against the bow and twisted to face her, setting the canoe into motion once more. “Thanks, but I don’t have much of an appetite today.”
    “Neither do the fish.” She took a bite of the apple. “We might have better luck later in the day.”
    “You mean around sunset?”
    “A few hours before sunset. I don’t like to fly after dark.”
    “You don’t? How come?”
    “I'm not instrument rated. The Cessna doesn’t have any of those state-of-the-art gadgets that would keep me from slamming into the side of Mount Katahdin.”
    He glanced toward the forest-cloaked hills on the horizon and moistened his lips nervously. “We're not near that, are we? If something delayed us and you needed to fly at dusk, we wouldn’t really, uh, hit a mountain, would we?”
    “I was exaggerating, Bruce. I’d be more likely to graze it than to slam into the side.”
    “Uh, that’s reassuring.”
    “Don’t worry,” she said, her voice softening. Had he always been this timid a person? He must