LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

that meant sticking close to an unknown entity like Max Kellan, so be it. She had enough psychological weaponry in her wheelhouse to keep both of them occupied.

      “You don’t have any affinity for psychologists, do you, Max?” Turning the conversation into something productive could work to her benefit.

      “Affinity?” Max pulled out a stack of books and peered behind it before he moved to the next shelf. “In my experience they enjoy putting people on edge. Like the way some of them use big words they think their patients might not understand.”

      “Nice to know you’ve painted us all with the same tainted brush.” She did some more wandering and zeroed in on the small table behind the closet door where Hope kept a mix of little-girl and big-girl makeup. “Calling me a shrink was my first clue, in case you’re wondering. I’m a psychologist, not a psychiatrist.”

      He snorted. “Like there’s a difference. They both mess with people’s heads.”

      She arched a brow, locked her jaw. “Only one is a medical doctor with prescription privileges.”

      “Noted. I won’t come to you for pharmaceutical assistance. You’re here to help find Hope,” Max said, his tone dismissive when she started to respond. “Not to go rattling around in the empty space between my ears.”

      “And you seem determined to convince me you’re not exactly the sharpest tool in the box.” She found his self-deprecating attitude offensive. “Whatever issues you have with your previous shri—um, doctors,” she said, almost choking on the unfinished word, “it would be helpful if you set them aside for the time being. We don’t need anything else getting in our way.”

      “Whatever you say, Doc.” He stooped down and pushed open the bay window seat Allie had been occupying a few minutes before.

      She really should write a book on people’s passive-aggressive tendencies. Some used them when making excuses for the paths their lives had taken, blaming everyone other than themselves for their choices. Normally she could ignore this behavior when it was aimed at her. With Max Kellan, however, she found his sarcastic dismissal irritating. “Guess I’ll need to find a way to embrace that nickname. What’s yours, by the way, Max?” She picked up a beaded necklace off one of the pushpins on Hope’s wall.

      “My what?”

      “Your nickname, call sign, whatever it is you fire boys call it. You all get one, right? Or do you choose your own?”

      “We do not choose our own. And we certainly aren’t boys.”

      “Clearly I need to be educated in the ways of the firefighter.” She watched the dazed expression vanish from his eyes as he narrowed his gaze at her. “Let me guess. Einstein? Hawking? Hmm.” She flicked open the square jewelry box on the dresser. Inside she found a collection of rainbow-colored perfume and makeup bottles. Huh. This one reminded her of one she’d had as a little girl. She picked up the pink vial. “Come on, Max, help a doctor out. What do your fellow firefighters call you? If you don’t tell me, I’m just going to keep guessing.”

      “Entertain yourself all you like, if puzzling me out is going to keep that smile on your lips.” He walked around the bed and stood in front of her. Allie lifted her chin high enough that her neck ached. My goodness, but he is... Allie swallowed hard. Tall. And big. So very, very big. She smelled the freshness of the shower he’d taken, the ever-so-subtle hint of sandalwood and spice from his soap or aftershave. Even fully clothed in something as simple as jeans and a dark T-shirt, she could see there wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t toned, controlled. Given what she’d learned about him so far—early-morning runner, tightly wound, protective, judgmental bordering on accusatory—she’d be lying if she didn’t admit to herself she considered the man incredibly attractive and intriguing.

      She blinked, her hand tightening around the bottle. Now she was the one who needed distracting. “Tell you what. If I guess your nickname, you have to tell me something about yourself absolutely no one else knows.”

      He moved closer, lowered his voice. “And what do you give me when you guess wrong?”

      Allie shrugged, refusing to be put off. “Name it.” Her eyes went wide as she realized her mistake. “I mean, um.”

      He grinned. Not in a flirtatious or playful way as she might have expected or wanted. Instead she suddenly felt trapped in one of those crime novels she was so fond of—caught by someone with a nefarious if not alluring agenda.

      “I wouldn’t have thought a smart woman like you would be into dangerous games, Doc. Making an offer like that? It’s asking for trouble.”

      Allie cleared her throat. Was it just her or was it hot in this room? “Maybe I like trouble.”

      “Or maybe you’re just looking for any means to distract me from what’s really going on.” He put his hands on his hips and stared at her intently. “I’ll settle for you answering any question I ask you honestly.” He stressed the last word. “You were right. I don’t trust doctors. Even pretty ones with big brown eyes and a tough attitude. But I do appreciate your efforts, Doc.”

      Darn. Was that a smirk on his face as he stepped away? She couldn’t tell. Allie pressed her lips tight and took a long breath. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.” She shrugged and played the “aw shucks” card. She twisted the lid on the bottle, lifted it to her nose and breathed deeply. She gagged and covered her mouth.

      “What?” Max was at her side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

      Allie shook her head, her eyes watering as she tried to breathe around the suffocating, familiar aroma. “Just that smell.” The perfume she, Eden and Simone had given Chloe for her birthday a few weeks before Chloe disappeared. What was it doing here? Allie’s hand trembled. How had Hope gotten it? “I’ve always hated it.” Her head spun and she swayed, her knuckles turning white around the bottle.

      Max moved in, his hands poised to catch her. She held out her arms, shifted her stance as if preparing to defend herself.

      He looked startled for a moment, whether at his own instinctual reaction or at her immediate defensive posture, she couldn’t tell. Then his expression hardened and he glared, examining her as if she was now the one pinned under a microscope—what Max had accused Allie of doing to him earlier.

      “I don’t believe you.”

      That Max spoke so succinctly, so firmly, left Allie even more determined not to let too much slip about the possible connection between Hope and Chloe. “That’s not my fau—”

      “I don’t believe a lot of what’s been going on today. There’s too much whispering, too much secrecy. You and MacTavish know a lot more than you’re saying and I’m betting the FBI isn’t too far behind on the information train. Everyone I’ve run into so far is walking around like they’re about to break something and I refuse to let that something be Hope. What’s going on, Doc?”

      Allie couldn’t find the words.

      “This is my niece’s life we’re talking about.”

      The desperate plea in his voice had her swallowing a softball-sized lump of guilt. He was right. This was his niece’s life. Who was she to blame him for reacting like this? Why would he believe her when she said she was going to do whatever it took to bring Hope home? Why would he trust her? Why would he trust anyone? But she needed him to. “For the record, I’m well aware of what’s at stake, Max. Don’t believe for one second that I’m not.”

      “Something else is happening here, Doc. Something you’re not telling me. Are you going to come clean or not?”

      “There’s nothing to come clean about,” she lied. Would there come a time when she could be honest with him? Why did it matter? “Have you seen this perfume before?” She recapped the bottle and wished she hadn’t handled it so much.

      “No. But I don’t keep up on my nine-year-old niece’s perfume habits.”

      Maybe

Скачать книгу