Читать книгу MIA: Missing In Atlanta - Debby Giusti - Страница 8

Light from the hallway scattered across the wall of the boys’ dorm, illuminating the clock in the corner: 0400 hours. Two hours since Jude had crawled into the bunk, yet sleep continued to elude him. Too many questions raced through his mind.

With a sigh he reached into the duffel he’d stashed under the bed, found the photo and raised it into the half-light. Nicole’s eyes stared back at him.

Why had she given him this address? Was it because of Viki?

Hopefully, he’d locate the younger Miss Valentine in the morning. Surely she’d have information he could use to track down Nicole. If the two were even related.

Returning the photo to the duffel, his fingers touched another piece of paper. He knew what the message said before he pulled it into the light.

“Don’t try to find me.”

The e-mail he’d tried to ignore. Could it be part of a silly game Nicole was playing to see if he loved her enough to search for her?

He almost laughed. If she thought he’d back off because of one ridiculous message, she didn’t know the kind of guy he really was.

Or had something else happened?

Tomorrow was a new day. God willing, he’d find her.

God? He shook his head. Sarah must be rubbing off on him.

Finding comfort with the thought, he closed his eyes and settled into a restful sleep.

The next morning Jude followed the smell of coffee into the kitchen and found Sarah standing over the stove, scrambling eggs and flipping pancakes.

“There’s juice in the fridge. Help yourself to the coffee,” she said as he entered. “Cream and sugar’s on the counter.”

She was dressed in a denim skirt, white blouse and red sweater, looking very patriotic and much too energetic for the amount of sleep she must have had. The kids hadn’t gone back to their dorms until late last night.

Now the winter sun was trying to burn through the haze of a new day. One that he hoped would lead him to Nicole.

Jude dropped his duffel by the back door and glanced at his watch. Still early. He might as well accept Sarah’s hospitality for a few more minutes.

He poured a cup of the hot brew and took a sip. “Coffee’s just what I needed.”

“Everyone’s still talking about how you walloped Damian.”

“The good guys won. That’s what the boys like to hear,” Jude said.

“I think what they like is a guy who’s willing to talk to them. Bull said the boys kept you up most of the night.”

“They wanted to know about the army. I told them, if they were willing to work hard and keep their noses clean, Uncle Sam could use them. Might be a step up from what I saw last night.”

Sarah stirred the eggs. “I don’t know much about the military except that anyone who served in the Middle East deserves a good breakfast. Cereal and doughnuts are in the dining room where the kids eat. I thought you might like a heartier meal.”

She piled the eggs and pancakes onto a plate and held it out to him. “Your breakfast, sir.”

Once again he glanced at his watch. “Sarah, I really need to—”

“Look for that girlfriend of yours. I know, but you have to eat.”

“Bull said you could be stubborn.” Smiling, he accepted the plate, grabbed utensils from a basket on the counter and pulled a tall stool to the worktable. “Thanks for the chow and a place to sleep.”