Read Then You Hide for Free Online

side, sauntered toward the back, and blocked her. “I’m not done.”
    She glared at him. “Sorry, but you are so done. You have my answer, I’m tired of this conversation, and I have more important things to do. Good-bye.”
    She moved to the side, but he blocked her again. “I have access to tremendous resources that could help you find your friend. Like tracing that text message, the satellite it came from, and what island he’s on. I can help you.”
    “That’s very impressive, but I’m pretty good at getting information myself,” she said impatiently. “I found my own birth mother years ago.”
    “I’m just offering to help you.”
    “And what’s the exchange rate? I have to fly to the Big House, visit Mom, and suck out some marrow for her? I don’t think so.”
    She managed to get by and sprinted into the street, barely avoiding an oncoming cab.
    “Sheez,” he blew out, charging after her. The woman was like a human tornado. He reached her in four long strides and got hold of her elbow.
    “Then maybe you’d do it for a chance to meet one of your sisters.”
    She froze, then slowly turned to him, her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “What?”
    “As I mentioned, we have impressive resources. We’ve been able to locate one of your sisters.”
    “One of my what ?” It was barely a whisper.
    “I thought you were so good at finding information? Evidently, you didn’t find it all. You were one of triplets given away by Eileen Stafford in July 1977.”
    Once again, she wore the expression of someone who’d just taken a bullet to the heart. He used the rare moment of speechlessness to guide her back up to the sidewalk.

    Gideon Bones took a long, deep drag on a Los Bancos Robosto Criolla and cursed Vanessa Porter and her nonstop mouth. Although, truth be told, whatever she’d just been told had shut her up good and fast.
    If it weren’t for her untimely arrival, he’d be sitting on his roof deck, staring up at the cloud-fringed crater of MountLiamuiga, enjoying the Dominican roll he’d saved in a humidor for this afternoon’s smoke.
    But she’d interrupted that peaceful pleasure, and now he was in the backseat of his Porsche Cayenne, watching her swoon in the arms of a thoroughly and unfortunately straight stunna who must have something good on the mouthy Miss Porter.
    Did the man know Clive? Or, worse, did he know Clive’s enemies?
    Bones didn’t have all that worked out yet, but he would. He’d figure out who was the threat, and then he’d eliminate it. Clive might swear his fag hag was harmless, doing exactly what she said she was doing, but Bones trusted no one.
    There was no such thing as harmless in this situation, and Clive would be wise to remember that. At the very least, she was a magnet, attracting attention they didn’t want or need.
    So Bones watched. And smoked. And admired the man who, based on the posture, the alertness, the subtle command in his body, was probably ex-military. Certainly armed, because he had that cool confidence that came with carrying.
    What did he want with Vanessa, other than the obvious?
    He tried to see her as a straight man might. Nice pouty lips, even if they did move too much for his taste, and the black-rimmed glasses against the platinum locks might appeal to a man with hot-for-teacher fantasies. She had a decent body, with nice cans that jostled around as if they were real and a tight ass, but so did half the trollops who climbed off those cruise ships looking for available players. Would that hottie boy endure all that chatter just to get laid?
    No. This wasn’t a mating dance; this was more like a battle royale. There might be attraction, there might even be some electricity, but it wasn’t welcome, he could tell.
    So what was the man up to?
    Bones knew men well. He worshipped them and had spent his life learning how to spot types. He could psych out an artist, a warrior, a leader, a thrill seeker, a competitor, a thief, a cheat, or a spy. He’d