Read Only Ever You for Free Online Page B

heard over the vacuum. The cleaning woman hunched over in the master shower jerked upright. Jill said, “Sorry to interrupt you, but I’m looking for my daughter’s stuffed dog. Old and gray, obviously well loved. Have you seen it?”
    The older woman nodded, stepping out of the shower. “It was on the bed,” she said in a gruff voice, eyes flicking to Jill’s before looking away. One of her eyelids drooped, which she was obviously self-conscious about. Jill tried not to stare at that or at her weirdly asymmetrical black bob. As the older woman brushed past, Jill caught a glimpse of gray hair poking out one side and realized it was a wig. The woman switched off the vacuum as she crossed to the far side of the room. There, on an armchair, sat Blinky. The woman picked the toy up with a latex-gloved hand and held it out to Jill, who tried not to think about the germ transfer.
    “Thank you! You’re a godsend!” Jill took Blinky and bolted out of the room, racing back downstairs in a panic. In her annoyance and hurry she’d left Sophia alone in an unlocked, running car. She dashed through the kitchen and out the garage. The car was still there, still running, but the car seat—was it really empty?
    “Sophia!” She ducked in the open driver’s door, lunging toward the backseat. “Sophia!”
    “Mommy?”
    The little voice surprised her. Jill reared up, banging her head against the car’s roof. Through painful fireworks she spotted her daughter crouched on the floor in the rear.
    “Oh thank God!” Jill reached for her and Sophia stood up. “What are you doing out of your car seat? You scared me!”
    “I want my doggie.”
    “I know, here he is, but you’re not supposed to unstrap from your seat, are you?” Jill stretched out like a contortionist to haul her daughter back into the seat and fasten the straps. Sophia clutched her stuffed dog with a sigh that made Jill smile, tear tracks visible on her daughter’s soft little cheeks.
    For the second time that morning, Jill backed out of her driveway and headed for Tetterby Preschool. She glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Sophia burying her face in Blinky’s gray “fur.” She should really wash the dog; who knew what that cleaning woman had touched with those gloves?
    *   *   *
    “Linda?” Rose bellowed from downstairs. “Linda? Are you up there?” Rose’s voice got louder. Bea could hear footsteps clomping up the stairs. She ran to pick up the vacuum wand and cast one last look over the room.
    “There you are!” Rose stood in the doorway, looking exasperated. “Why didn’t you answer me?”
    “I didn’t hear you over the vacuum.”
    “You should get your ears checked,” the woman snapped. She looked around the master bedroom and gave it a grudging nod of approval. “This will do. C’mon, you can clean the kitchen floor.”
    While she mopped the tiles, Bea did a quick search of the kitchen, hitting pay dirt with a spare set of keys buried deep in a drawer. These went straight into her pocket. While the floor dried she did a rapid walk-through of the first floor, taking photos with a small digital camera that she’d hidden in a fanny pack worn under her uniform polo.
    Just past the formal living room was a closed door, which turned out to be a study that looked like something out of a film set. Floor-to-ceiling bookcases in deep mahogany, lined with law texts and other works, and a few carefully chosen knickknacks—a crystal paperweight, a plaque from a law association citing David Lassiter as associate of the year, silver frames with pictures of the law school graduate and his wife and child.
    An iMac sat on the desk. Password protected, of course, but Bea had read an article suggesting that people weren’t clever enough with their passwords. She tried all the Lassiter names, then several combinations of initials and birthdates. The fifth try worked. Delighted, she searched the browser history and scrolled through David