Chapters (87)
- TITLE PAGE
- COPYRIGHT
- DEDICATION
- CONTENTS
- START READING
- CHAPTER ONE
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY
- EPILOGUE
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
He’s trying to sound casual. I don’t push. Deep down, the alarm bells sound louder. I try to mute them. I really do.
Adam saved me.
“What would you do if she had been involved?” I ask him. “What would you say about that?”
Adam blinks. “I guess I would say, ‘Lock her up and make sure she never gets out.’ But she didn’t. She’s not that kind of a woman. She’s brilliant. Kind. Very giving.”
“Sounds like you’ve gotten to like her.”
“Well, honestly, Lee,” he says, “I barely know her.”
His words suddenly feel like a lie, but this is Adam Warner. He’s not a liar. He wouldn’t know how to lie if someone taught him.
I am sure of that.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
ADAM
The first time I saw Kristen Moss was when she knocked on our door one Sunday afternoon. I’d been watching football on TV, and the Seahawks were losing. Big-time. Sophie, as she had been far too much at that time, was gone. I was ready for a distraction. I hated seeing my team go down in flames. Again. I was a winner. So of course I expected the Hawks to be winners too.
I wouldn’t have opened the door, but seeing Kristen through the peephole, I gave the knob a turn. She was pretty. Easy on the eyes. No doubt about that. If she had been selling something, I might even have been a buyer.
Looking back now, I would have been a lot better off if it actually had been a kid selling chocolate bars for the school band, or even a pair of Jehovah’s Witnesses.
“Adam Warner?” she asked in that way people do when they know exactly who you are and think that you should know them as well. I looked her over, but nothing registered. Maybe we’d talked at a conference? She was too beautiful for the accounting pool at SkyAero, that’s for sure. I’d have kept my eye on her.
“Sorry. Have we met?”
“No,” she said. “I know your wife. Is she home?”
I opened the door a little wider. “No. Sophie’s out running errands with our daughter. Might be home in an hour. You want to wait . . . ?” I let the last word hang out in the breeze, an invitation for her to tell me her name.
“Kristen,” she says. “Kristen Moss. You might know my husband, Connor.”