AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He couldn’t imagine any force on earth that could have made him leave Page three weeks after their wedding.
Page released a deep, rather mournful sigh and turned her face away from him. “I’m tired,” she said, her voice small. “I...didn’t get much sleep.”
It was the first reference she’d made to the night before. Gabe had been rather carefully avoiding mention of their lovemaking. Maybe, he thought, because he still wasn’t sure what it had meant to her. And because it had meant too damned much to him.
“Why don’t you take a nap?” he suggested. “I have some paperwork in a briefcase out in my truck that I can work on for a couple of hours.”
She nodded. “I think I will. Let me know if Blake calls with any information, will you?”
“Of course.” He watched her walk a bit too quickly to the bedroom. She looked as though she was making a welcome escape.
“Page?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”
“You won’t jump out the window again?”
Her chin lifted in annoyance. “Not unless it becomes necessary.”
It wasn’t the answer he wanted, but he nodded. “Then you can close the door so I won’t disturb you by moving around in here.”
“How kind of you to grant me permission,” she muttered.
She closed the door. In fact, she slammed it.
Gabe winced and rubbed a hand over his face.
The day hadn’t exactly gotten off to a great start. He could only hope it would get better—and not worse.
BLAKE CALLED an hour or so later. “I have some information that might be of interest to you,” he said.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Gabe shook his head in amazement at Blake’s proficiency. “What have you got?”
“Professor Wingate’s son isn’t dead. He was shot three times, and came damned close to dying, but he survived. His name is Phillip. He’s in his early twenties now.”
“He’s alive? But Page said—”
“She was mistaken. Apparently, there was a common misconception that he died. He was hospitalized for a long time and there were no relatives to report on his progress. By the time he was released, Wingate’s murder-suicide was old news.”
Gabe could feel his pulse rate quicken. Page’s stalker had reason to hate her. He wanted her to be alone—as he was. He had been infuriated at her threat to kill herself, to “take the self-serving way out,” as he’d called it.
The pieces all fit.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“I wish I knew,” Blake replied, his tone a bit grim. “He reportedly left his hometown just over three years ago. No one who knew he was still alive seems to know what became of him.”
Just over three years ago. Again, the coincidence was too strong to discount.
“What do you know about him?” Gabe asked, confident that Blake would have already started checking the guy out.
“A loner in high school. Not well liked by his peers. No close friends that I could discover. He didn’t get along with his father, but he seemed unusually close to his mother. He had an affinity for computers, electronic gadgetry...and cameras,” he added meaningfully.
“Damn.” Gabe felt his stomach clench.
“I’m having his senior yearbook photo faxed to me. I should have it within the hour. And then I’m taking it to the garage where I had Page’s car towed. Apparently someone was there very early this morning, asking about the car. Wanting to know who’d brought it in. I want to see if anyone there recognizes the face in the photograph.”
Gabe frowned. “You think he’s found us that quickly?”
