Read Cold Silence (A High Stakes Thriller) for Free Online

remainder of sweet baby smell combined with the scent of ground-in dirt.
    Behind that was the pineapple scent of the shampoo she insisted he use twice a week, and the banana suntan lotion she'd put on him before his T-ball game the night before. His games always reminded her of playing softball as a girl. Her mother was very athletic, and she and Megan's father had always encouraged the girls in sports. Her sister Nicole had played soccer at Stanford on a scholarship, but Megan had always loved softball. On Memorial Day they played a family game: Mom and the two oldest girls, Dad and the two youngest. The rivalry had continued up until the last Memorial Day that Mark was alive. She wondered if they still played.
    She returned the pillow to its spot and forced herself off the bed. She went into her room and picked up the extension there, dialing the Landons' number again. No one answered.
    To hell with it, she cursed to herself, grabbing the car keys off her bureau and heading downstairs. She put on her coat and armed the house as she did even to walk to the small market down the street. She left the house through the back door and jogged to the green Jeep Cherokee that made her look like every other parent in California. She revved the engine, blasted the heat, and drove toward the Landons' house.
    She shouldn't be going there, she told herself. She should trust R.J. He would call her before bed. Maybe Peter went to bed later. She knew his mother wasn't around. Maybe Landon let Peter stay up all night. Or maybe Landon had reminded R.J. and he'd just forgotten. But it wasn't like R.J. to forget. He remembered how important it was that they always be able to reach each other. He remembered that night in New Orleans.
    The rain started up again and she tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she turned between the large stone pillars that marked the entrance into the exclusive community where Landon lived. The in-law attachments here were bigger than the house she and R.J. shared. She didn't care. Her life wasn't about money or power or any of those things. It never would be, and the thought brought neither disappointment nor envy.
    She pulled the Jeep into the circular drive in front of Landon's house and killed the engine. Maybe R.J. had already called her at home and she'd simply missed it. She picked up her cell phone and punched four to dial her home voice mail. The electronic voice told her she had no messages.
    Ending the call, she set the phone on the passenger seat and opened her door. She crossed the small grassy yard and took a deep breath before ringing the white bell beside an oak door that looked like it belonged on a king's castle. The sound echoed through what she imagined was an enormous entryway, and she waited to hear the sounds of footsteps. Landon had said the boys would be renting a movie, and she hoped he hadn't decided to take them out instead.
    She turned around and looked back at the street as the misty rain turned to drizzle. She didn't see any cars on the street, but the garage was closed. Where the hell was Landon? Where was her son? She turned back and rang the bell again, feeling the fear saturate her blood like alcohol.
    "I'm coming, I'm coming," came the scratchy voice.
    There was the click of a lock, and the giant oak door opened with a resounding moan.
    Travis Landon stood behind it in a pair of pajama pants and nothing else. She diverted her eyes from his tanned chest. He looked tired, but he was handsome the same way Mark had been. He had straight, medium-brown hair that appeared thick and slightly untamed. The whole effect was rugged, and she could imagine he looked slightly out of place in a suit, just like Mark. Travis frowned and ran his hand through his hair.
    Cody kept her eyes on his face as she stepped into the foyer and tried not to wipe her wet feet on the beautiful, expensive-looking Oriental rug. The house was bigger than she'd thought, with a marble floor and the kind of