Read Head Start (Cedar Tree #7) for Free Online

“Of course I’m careful. What’s going on?”
    “Just...fuck.” Neil clasps his hands around the back of his neck. “I can’t talk about it, but please trust me when I say I need you to be careful.”
    “I promise,” I say softly, a little unnerved. It doesn’t help when he covers the hand I still have resting on his arm with his.
    “Can I ask you something? Don’t get mad. When I cleaned out your computer last week, I couldn’t help but notice you’d been on this dating site.”
    Okay, that’s embarrassing. I’d figured he probably would have seen that, and I did my best to pretend otherwise. I try to pull my hand back, but he just folds his big fingers around it and holds on.
    “Don’t. Don’t be upset, just listen. For the foreseeable future, please don’t plan to meet up with someone you met online. I can’t tell you more and it drives me fucking insane, but trust me when I say it’s important.”
    My mouth opens to object, to tell him it’s no business of his who I date, but the serious look on his face shuts me up. For a second, I consider telling him about my coffee date tonight, but decide not to. I’ve done my due diligence on Lars and from what I can gather, he is everything he claims to be. A single forty-something-year-old teacher from Gallup, New Mexico. Besides, it’s just a coffee.
    “Okay,” I lie, a little niggle of doubt messing with my stomach. Neil gives my hand a little squeeze before releasing it. Before either of us can say anything else, Arlene is back with two steaming plates of meatloaf and potatoes. Good country fare if not for the slightly exotic twist of spinach and goat cheese stuffing.

    N eil
    A sight for sore eyes; the familiar shapely silhouette and signature ponytail sitting at the counter.
    I’d just spent a stressful afternoon in the GFI office, reporting some of the things I’d discovered over the past day or two.
    Cora Jenning’s e-mails showed her conversations with a man she’d originally met through an online personal ad, by the name of Alan Cymars. There was no mention of a specific website, just some reference to the descriptions in the ad early on in their e-mail exchange. Two months of e-mails before Alan had sent her his phone number to call. No e-mails after that which would support that she, in fact, contacted him by phone after. Gomez promises to check her phone records for his number.
    Sitting with Gus and Katie in the conference room, and Gomez on speakerphone, we outlined our findings to him. Katie was also able to tell him that the number Alan Cymars had listed in his e-mail had since been disconnected. Another red flag. In his e-mails, this guy had been the one to ask the questions, but said little about himself, other than that he worked for a bank in Farmington and his hobby was hiking. From what Damian told us, a colleague of
    Cora’s had voiced some concerns when she’d mentioned meeting this guy. Apparently, the night she disappeared had been her second time meeting him. The first time had been for coffee, but the night of her disappearance, they were supposed to go out for a hike and dinner. Alan Cymars’s name was at the top of the list. Except there’s been no trace of him. He doesn’t exist, therefore there is no way to connect him with the other possible victims.
    It’s not until I sit down beside her at the counter, that I think about  the website link I’d discovered on Kendra’s computer and a niggle of worry takes form. Stroke of luck, I decided to stop in for a quick bite before retreating to my apartment upstairs and the stack of files waiting for my attention. I’m well aware that lives are at stake. Still, I’m unable to resist the draw of the woman who has been the main focus of my fantasies.
    I can’t help teasing her a little when I sit down. Seeing her reaction each time I push her a little out of her comfort zone gives me hope that one of these days, she’ll forget to slam the door in my face. Again. I