Deadliest of Sins Read Online Free

sheriff says I used up all my brownie points with him months ago.” The boy’s chin quivered. Mary realized he really was a child—blond hair still baby-fine, the back of his neck velvety looking. It would be years before his cheeks would know the bite of a razor.
    â€œSo you’re in trouble with the sheriff a lot?” asked Mary.
    Shrugging, he mumbled his reply. “I used to call 911 some, back when we lived in the duplex. The sheriff thinks I’m a sissy.”
    â€œHow’d you get up here?”
    â€œHitched a ride.”
    â€œ Hitched a ride ? With whom?”
    â€œI don’t know. Some old man bringing a load of peaches up from South Carolina.”
    Mary blinked. Eleven-year-olds hitching rides on peach trucks with wild tales of familial kidnapping was a new page in her book. Though the kid wore faded jeans and a too-big white T-shirt, his clothes were clean and he didn’t smell nearly as ripe as some of the campers she’d passed. He just looked scared and hungry, as if someone had sent him to bed without supper for the last couple of months. Watch out , she warned herself, thinking of Lily Walkingstick, kids have a million ways to break your heart .
    â€œWell, I don’t think hitchhiking is the smartest thing to do,” she finally told the boy. “But it doesn’t sound like something a sissy would do.”
    He pulled out a funny little homemade purse with an owl appliqued on the front. “I brought money to pay you,” he said. “It’s Sam’s money, but I don’t figure she’ll care.” He counted out an array of bills, some loose change. “Ninety-four dollars and seventy-one cents. I know lawyers cost a lot more than that. I can pay you more as we go along.”
    â€œHow would you do that?”
    â€œCut grass, trim hedges,” he replied, looking at her with such serious innocence that she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “This fall I hope to get a paper route.”
    Mary handed the creased, limp bills back to the boy. “Thanks, but I can’t take this. Like I said, I’m not a lawyer for hire anymore.” She glanced at her watch. Almost two. She hadn’t eaten since early morning and a headache was beginning to lick around her temples. “Have you had lunch?”
    â€œNo ma’am.”
    â€œAre you hungry?”
    â€œI’ve been worse off.”
    â€œWell, I’m famished,” said Mary. “Let’s go get something to eat. You can tell me more about your sister over lunch.”
    She’d planned to get a quick bite at the Indian restaurant on the ground floor of her building, but she didn’t think young Sherlock would go for Bhel Puri or Papri Chaat. Instead, she took him to the homey restaurant across the street, where they served traditional American fare.
    â€œYou like cheeseburgers?” she asked, as they stepped up to the counter.
    â€œYes ma’am,” he whispered, his eyes wide at the size of the burgers coming out of the kitchen.
    â€œGood. So do I. ” Mary put two cheeseburgers, fries, and sodas on her credit card and then led the boy to an outside table. She noticed he looked at every passing car, as if one of them might hold his sister.
    â€œSo have you lived in Campbell County all your life?” she asked as they waited for their food.
    â€œNo ma’am. Just two years. We lived in West Virginia until my daddy died. Then we went to live in Gastonia. Mama got a job there, taking care of Cousin Petey.”
    â€œAnd that didn’t work out?” asked Mary.
    â€œIt was great until Cousin Petey died. Then her kids came and made us move out. But I got to take all of her books, and she gave me her granddaddy’s army pistol, until Gudger made Mama sell it to Dr. Knox.”
    Mary nodded as a waiter placed two cheeseburgers and a basket of fries on the table. The boy fell to, attacking his burger as if he