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Beauty Vs. The Beast. M.J. Rodgers
Читать онлайн.Название Beauty Vs. The Beast
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Автор произведения M.J. Rodgers
Жанр Зарубежные детективы
Издательство HarperCollins
He began to make out the faint silhouette of the garage. He got to his hands and knees and crawled beside its rough stucco wall until he reached the old, dilapidated shed behind it. He scrambled to his feet.
His small hands stretched above his head to feel for the rusted iron latch. With all his strength, he pulled the heavy wooden door toward him. He slipped inside the shed and closed the door behind him, hearing the latch click into place.
The shed was absolutely black. The hard earth floor was like ice beneath his bare feet. His knees and palms stung from his fall down the stairs.
The little boy paid no heed to these physical discomforts. He felt his way slowly over the rough-hewn, wood-splintered walls until he had reached the farthermost corner. He leaned his back against it and sunk to the ground.
It took a very long time before his heart stopped pounding against his thin ribs, before his breath stopped wheezing through his small lungs. Finally, he drifted into a blessed numbness, a welcome respite from the ripping terror.
He didn’t know how long he huddled there, but gradually he began to feel very cramped and tired and awfully cold. He shifted his position slightly, only to have his bare toes poked by the stiff bristles of a nearby broom. He longed to be stretched out on his bed beneath a warm blanket.
But he knew there were things much worse than being cramped and tired and cold. Much worse.
He could still hear the demon’s distant roar as it continued to search the house for him.
He shivered as the cold night breeze whipped through the wooden slats at his back. He could just make out an old tarp shoved against the shed’s wall a few feet away. He leaned forward and grasped the tarp’s edge and dragged it toward him. He dropped back into his corner and draped the old tarp over his small back and shoulders to keep off the draft.
The tarp was stiff and smelled of paint. He didn’t care. For a few precious moments, he almost felt warm. For a few precious moments, he thought he had escaped this night. For a few precious moments...
The back door to the house suddenly slammed. The heavy boots of the demon crunched over the frozen ground as they made their way to the garage, bringing an abrupt end to all the little boy’s hopes.
He burrowed his head between his knees as terror once again tore through his heart. It would search the garage, and when it didn’t find him there, it would be bound to search the old shed behind it.
He should have known the demon would find him. It always found him.
A sob broke through his small throat. No! No! Not again! He must find a way to escape before it came for him. He must!
Chapter One
Kay knew he was coming. She stood behind her desk and waited impatiently as she wondered why Adam Justice, her senior partner at the law offices of Justice Inc., had been so mysterious about this new client he was sending her.
The stranger stepped through the open doorway of her walnut-paneled office, halting uncertainly the second he saw her.
“You’re K. O. Kellogg?”
Kay nodded mutely, at the same time wincing internally at the surprise stamped on his face and in his deep voice. She should be reconciled to both by now. She wasn’t.
Still, just as she obviously didn’t fit his preconceived idea of a lawyer, he didn’t fit her preconceived idea of a psychologist.
His full, unruly, dark brown hair framed a ruggedly square, sun-darkened face. He looked as if he’d be far more at home at the helm of a ship than anchored to an analyst’s couch. Yet, in contrast to his rough, outdoorsy features, his dark dress slacks, tan cashmere jacket and open-necked, salmon-colored silk shirt bespoke a man thoroughly at ease in more formal, indoor settings.
“Please come in, Dr. Steele. I’ve been expecting you.”
He closed the door behind him and advanced into the room. His stride was long, muscular and powerful. His face was open, fluid and friendly.
Except, that is, for the sharp assessment in his glinting green eyes. Something about that intense, imposing glint belied the casual countenance of the man.
“I’m only Dr. Steele to my patients,” he said. “Call me Damian. And your first name is...?”
Kay leaned across her neat, polished walnut desk to extend her hand. “I’m called Kay.”
“Kay,” he repeated as his much larger hand engulfed hers and lingered, branding her with its gentle insistence. As she looked into those deep green eyes and felt the claim of his hand, a strange, warm sensation streaked down the back of her thighs.
Kay quickly slipped her eyes and her hand from his and sat down. She knew what that strange sensation was, of course. Her new shoes had to be cutting off the circulation in her legs. She had suspected the heels would be too high. Still, the idea of adding a full three inches to her height had been too enticing to resist.
That would teach her to watch those illogical impulses. As soon as this interview was over, she’d slip her feet into the pair of fuzzy slippers she kept in her drawer. Until then, she’d try to remain seated. She motioned toward one of the walnut-armed chairs in front of her desk.
“Were you expecting a man, Dr. Steele?”
He took the offered chair, but sat on its edge. “No. Your senior partner told me you were a woman.”
Kay thought as much. Adam Justice generally cleared that particular obstacle from the start. As for clearing the misleading image of her small size and too youthful face, well, here she was again, beginning the uphill climb. Kay took a deep, resolute breath.
“So, it’s my appearance that has caused your...surprise.”
His eyebrows raised slightly. He obviously had not expected her to address the issue so candidly. The upturn to the corners of his mouth hinted at a small amusement.
“Yes, Kay. You could say your appearance came as somewhat of a surprise.”
Well, at least he was open about it.
She felt the frown line forming between her eyebrows. “I hope you’re not the kind of man to be unduly influenced by appearances.”
He smiled directly at her frown. “I think you’d be safe in assuming I’m not.”
He had an inviting, disarming smile—the kind that made one instinctively trust him. Kay did not allow herself to succumb to any such instinct. She rested her hands on her desk and launched into the well-rehearsed litany of her professional credits.
“I’ve been a practicing attorney for six years, the last five at this firm. I was made a full partner fifteen months ago. Mr. Justice told me that your case involves an unusual civil matter. I’ve handled many civil matters for this firm, some of which have been most unusual. I’ve gone to trial on thirty cases and won twenty-nine.”
“Adam mentioned you had an impressive trial record.”
Kay’s forward momentum immediately swerved to this interesting side road. “Adam? I didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with our firm’s senior partner. How do you know Adam?”
“We met a few years back.”
“Where?”
“Around.”
“You’re friends?”
“We know each other.”
His sentence dropped into a definite and deliberate period. Kay’s brief hope of finding out something more personal about Adam Justice took a nosedive.