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Titel: Tribute Kostenlos Bücher Online Lesen
Autoren: Nora Roberts
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something like that to him.”
    “How did Sawyer get along with him?”
    “Ford?” For a moment she went blank. “Fine. They hit it off. Big-time. Steve’s a fan. He’s even got . . . Oh, for God’s sake.”
    Understanding, Cilla pressed her fingers to her eyes, then dragged them back through her hair. "Okay, follow the dots, please. I am not and was not sleeping with Steve. I am not and was not sleeping with Ford, though that is on the table. Ford did not attack Steve in a jealous rage as I don’t think he has a lot of rage in the first place and, more importantly, he knew there was nothing to be jealous about. I was up front with him regarding my relationship with Steve, and in fact was out with Ford the night Steve got hurt. The night both myself and Ford knew Steve had gone out to sniff around Shanna Stiles. There’s no romantic or sexual triangle here. This isn’t about sex.”
    “Miss McGowan, it looks as though someone was in your barn, and may have been lying in wait. You and Sawyer knew Mr. Chensky had gone out for the evening, and that he stored his motorcycle in the barn.”
    “That’s right, that’s absolutely right, Detective Wilson. Just like we both knew he’d gone out to try to score with a very attractive brunette. Neither of us could know if he’d get lucky or bomb out. So you’re suggesting that after spending the evening with me, Ford snuck back, hid out in my barn, just in case Steve came back. It doesn’t make any sense.”
    Shock, anger, guilt, annoyance all drained into sheer misery. “None of this makes any sense.”
    “We’d like you to go through the items you have stored in the barn, see if anything’s been disturbed or taken.”
    “All right.”
    “Your grandmother left a deep mark,” Wilson continued. “I’d guess most people figured anything of hers in that house was taken away a long time ago. Word gets out, as word will, there’s still some things around, someone might be interested enough to break into a barn.”
    “And fracture a man’s skull. Yeah. The thing is? Most of what’s in the barn is from the McGowans. The ordinary side of the family.”
    She went back to Steve, but this time sat in silence.
    When she left, walked to the elevator, she saw her father get off the car. “Dad.”
    “Cilla.” He strode quickly toward her, took her shoulders. “How is he?”
    “The same, I guess. He’s critical. He came through the surgery, and that’s a plus, but...A lot of buts and ifs and maybes.”
    “I’m so sorry.” He pulled her tight for a moment. “I know I only met him a couple of times, but I liked him. What can I do?”
    “I just don’t know.”
    “Let me take you downstairs, get some food in you.”
    “No, actually, I’m just leaving for a while. I have some errands.” To get out, to do, to stop thinking for just a couple of hours. “Maybe . . . Do you think you could go in and sit with him for a little bit? Talk to him? He liked you, too.”
    “Sure, I will.”
    “And when you leave? Remind him that I’ll be back later. I’ll be back.”
    “All right.”
    Nodding, she pressed for the elevator, hitched her bag on her shoulder. “I appreciate . . . I really appreciate you coming. You barely know him. Hell, you barely know me.”
    “Cilla—”
    “But you came.” She stepped into the elevator, turned, met her father’seyes. “You came. It means a lot,” she said as the doors closed between them.
    WORK. WORK GOT HER THROUGH the day.And the next day. She was better at work, she thought, than at sentiment, at expressing emotions— unless they were scripted. She made her schedule, and stuck to it. So many hours on the house, on the landscaping, so many at the hospital, so many in the barn.
    That left her so many hours to fall on her air mattress and clock out.
    So far, she thought, so good.
    Except Steve’s mother had jumped down off her broomstick and thrown the schedule into the Dumpster. So, more time for work, Cilla told herself. More time to get things done.
    She picked up a pole lamp, scowled at the six funnel-shaped shades running down the spotted brass rod. “What were they smoking when they bought this?”
    On impulse, she took a few running steps and launched it at the open barn doors like a javelin. Then yipped when Ford stepped into view. He jumped back so the lamp whizzed by his face with a few layers of dust to spare.
    “Jesus Christ! ”
    “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you.”
    “Shouldn’t you

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