Читать книгу A Soldier's Return - Judy Christenberry, Judy Christenberry - Страница 7

Prologue

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Carrie Abrams was working on her computer when she heard the door of the detective agency open.

She turned her body to greet the entrant, but her eyes were still focused on completing the task on her computer screen. She clicked Save and reluctantly brought her eyes to the person standing by the door. Spit-shined shoes, crisp khaki pants, belted jacket…

As her gaze rose up the tall, straight-postured man before her, she saw he was a military man. A well-built military man. She looked at his face—and gasped.

“Jim!”

At the odd look on the man’s face, she retracted the surprised greeting. “I—I mean— Sorry, I mistook you for someone I, um—” She was stammering like a blubbering fool, but she couldn’t help it. That was a common result when one met one’s fantasy-come-to-life. Grabbing hold of herself, she cleared her throat and said in her best professional voice, “May I help you?”

“I need to speak with Will Greenfield.”

“And your name?” She almost held her breath.

“Captain James Barlow.”

She knew it! She’d recognize that face anywhere. After all, she’d been staring at his picture for over a year. But the man was even better looking in person.

On rather unsteady feet she got up from her desk, suddenly wishing she’d worn something other than a pair of jeans and a bulky sweater. You’re being silly, she told herself. Jim Barlow wouldn’t care what she was wearing. He didn’t even know her.

She rapped on Will’s door and opened it at his say-so, then stepped inside, closed the door and leaned against it.

“He’s here!” She whispered so the man in the outer office wouldn’t hear her.

“Who—” Will started to ask, but Carrie didn’t wait.

“Jim! He’s here. And he wants to see you.”

Will’s face broke into a smile. “Well, show him in!”

More than anything Carrie wanted to stay in Will’s office, to be part of the discussion with the captain, but she knew she couldn’t ask. It wouldn’t be professional.

And it was Will’s case, after all, not to mention part of his extended family.

Instead, she opened the door. “Captain Barlow, please come in.” She leaned against the door, reluctant to break contact with the men. Then her gaze was caught by the warning glint of the silver frame on her desk. Right near where the man was standing.

“Oh, no!” She rushed forward. Jim’s picture was on her desk. Had he seen it? She hoped not. How could she explain her fascination with Vanessa’s oldest brother?

The explanation was simple really. In her work as a private investigator for Greenfield and Associates, she found it easier to understand the person she was looking for if she had a photo of him or her. In this case, though, the picture hadn’t prepared her for the fact that Jim Barlow was an absolute hunk. He was taller than she realized, with thick muscles that in person couldn’t be hidden by his uniform. His dark hair didn’t surprise her, since his three sisters had the same brown color, but his chocolate eyes glinted with golden highlights in the overhead light. Yes, he was a definite hunk!

They’d found Jim early on in their investigation, so that excuse for his picture didn’t really work. It was just that. An excuse. The truth was she’d been fascinated by his square-jawed image ever since she’d first seen the standard-issue marine photograph. Vanessa had been, too. He was the picture of protective, strong…safe. The big brother every little girl dreamed of. The man every woman dreamed of.

Her best friend, Vanessa Shaw, had probably dreamed those dreams as she was raised as an only child. Then, after her father’s death, her mother had told her that she was adopted and that she had five siblings. That revelation had set in motion a chain of events that had brought tremendous changes in their lives.

Carrie drew a deep breath. It was so tempting to call Vanessa and break the news. But she couldn’t do that. That was Will’s privilege.

All she could do was sit here and pretend indifference that Jim Barlow had returned to the bosom of his family after twenty-three years.

A Soldier's Return

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