The Root of All Trouble

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Book: Read The Root of All Trouble for Free Online
Authors: Heather Webber
'd broken in here at least once a month for the last four months in search of the ultrasound report revealing the gender of her baby. She'd made the doctor, a family friend, promise to not even write the gender in her file. Only on the piece of paper tucked into an envelope that she'd given to me for safekeeping.
    " Since when do you listen to me? I changed my mind. I want to know."
    " No you don't."
    " Yes, I do." She frowned. "No, I don't. Yes, I do!"
    I sat next to her. "What brought this on?"
    With the past break-ins there had always been an instigating factor. The baby registry had sparked one bre ak-in, the baby shower another.
    " Nate wants to buy the baby a baseball glove."
    " So?"
    She wrinkled her nose. "Girls don't play baseball."
    " No, they usually play softball, which also requires a glove."
    " Not my daughter. She's going to be a girly girl. Pink dresses, tutus, piano lessons, tea parties, dance classes."
    Her eyes turned glassy. She 'd put a lot of thought into this.
    " And if it's a boy?" I asked.
    " It's not a boy. That's why I need to see those results. I need to prove it to Nate before he goes off and buys my baby girl a basketball hoop or something."
    " The horror."
    " Are you mocking me?"
    " Of course."
    She pouted.
    "What if it's a boy?" I asked again.
    Letting out a deep breath, she said, "I don't know. I don't really like the whole sports thing. So sweaty."
    " Have you seen yourself at Zumba?"
    She glared at me. "Dancing sweat is different from sporty sweat."
    " How so?"
    " It just is."
    I decided not to argue and instead pursued another tactic. "Nate was a pro baseball player. Peter ran cross country and also played basketball and tennis. They're pretty good role models."
    Peter, our older brother, was a pediatrician who lived out of state. He'd just been home at New Year's and called every week to keep tabs on Maria.
    " I guess," she said. "But I'm still having a girl. I refuse to have a boy."
    Smiling, I hoped that she was having a boy. It would serve her right. But I didn 't know what she was having, either. The results she searched for were locked in my Taken by Surprise office—still sealed because I didn't trust myself from blabbing.
    I drew my feet up onto the sofa, unable to get comfortable, and realized something was bothering me. The mention of Peter had triggered another memory. One of him and one of his high school best friends running on weekends, teasing me as I foll owed alongside them on my bike.
    Oh. My. God. It couldn 't be.
    I jumped up and peeked out the window.
    "What?" Maria asked.
    " There's a man out there who works for the coroner's office. I thought I knew him but couldn't place how. I think I just remembered..."
    Maria levered herself off the couch and toddled over to the window. "Which one?"
    " The guy over there, behind the van."
    " The hottie in the windbreaker?"
    Eyebrow raised, I glanced at her.
    "What?" she said. "I'm pregnant, not comatose."
    " Do you recognize him?" I asked.
    She squinted. "He does look familiar."
    I swallowed. "Does he look like Seth Thiessen?"
    Her eyes flew open wide, then she squinted again. "Impossible," she whispered. "That's impossible."
    It was.
    Because Seth Thiessen was dead.

Chapter Five
     
     
    "W hat kind of neighborhood do you live in?" Kevin asked as he strode in the front door several hours later. "I think the Mill accounts for the highest crime rate in the county."
    " Have you ever heard of knocking?" I said from my spot on the couch. Even though it wasn't even close to being dark out yet, I'd already changed into my pajamas, was snuggled under a blanket, and had a bowl of popcorn balanced on my lap.
    I was clearly not a party girl.
    Gracie charged out from beneath the couch, her high-pitched barking drowning out the Project Runway episode Maria and I had been watching—one of many. There was a marathon airing and we couldn't pull ourselves away. Gracie barreled toward Kevin's feet, stopped abruptly when she neared him, piddled,

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