Secrets and Sins: Malachim (A Secrets and Sins Novel) (Entangled Ignite) Read Online Free Page B

you then.”
    With another nod, she turned and left the office—escaped Malachim Jerrod. As soon as she exited the brownstone, she exhaled a deep breath.
    I did it. Oh my God, I did it.
    She hurried down the sidewalk, grinning. A burst of laughter exploded past her lips, catching her unawares. Malachim Jerrod had given her a job. The skeptical, happily-ever-afters-are-for-suckers part of her still couldn’t grasp the sudden turn of events. Not that she kidded herself; she’d bet a week’s wages at Suffolk Downs that he’d hired her out of pure desperation. That online employment ad had been dated several weeks ago. Jerrod & Associates was a successful, respected law firm—or it had been until the murder scandal broke. A hungry, ambitious attorney or paralegal wouldn’t make a lateral move to a business where the proprietor had salacious phrases like “cold case” and “murder” attached to him like a stubborn barnacle. As stone-hearted as it sounded, Malachim Jerrod’s misfortune had become Danielle’s windfall.
    She rounded the corner and rushed down the street to where Pat’s dated Honda waited in front of the quaint coffee shop. She unlocked the door, slid into the driver’s seat, and cranked the car. Hot air blasted from the open vents, rushing over her face and torso in a welcoming draft. For several long moments, she held her palms out in front of the heater and sighed as the chill slowly bled from her fingers and cold cheeks.
    She glanced at the dashboard. 9:35 p.m. Damn. Danielle snatched her hands down and jerked the zipper open on her bag. Quickly, she found the generic, throwaway cell phone she’d bought just that morning and tapped in a number. The ringer trilled in her ear. Once. Twice. Three times. Danielle’s foot set up an agitated tap as she anxiously waited for the person on the other end to answer. Catching her was never guaranteed. It’s why Danielle had set up an appointed day and time when they would speak. 9:30 p.m. every Monday. But since Danielle was five minutes late, she might’ve missed her opportunity.
    “Yeah?”
    The back of Danielle’s head thumped against the headrest. She exhaled a hard breath.
    “Carmen, es tu hermana. ” Carmen, it’s your sister. Danielle automatically fell into Spanish with her older sister, the result of being raised by a Colombian mother and aunt.
    Carmen Guerrero sighed. “I know, Elena. You are the only person who calls me at the same time, the same day every week.”
    Danielle swallowed an irritated reply. Getting into a sniping match with Carmen would serve no purpose other than hearing the dial tone buzz in her ear sooner rather than later. Since they were girls, her sister’s method of ending an argument had been shutting down and blocking Danielle out. For a younger sibling intent on grabbing her older sister’s attention, the practice had been torturous and effective. Still was.
    “You sound tired,” Danielle said. Beneath Carmen’s snappy tone, she caught the weariness dragging at her voice. “Is everything okay at the plant?”
    For the last several months, Carmen hadn’t mentioned her job at the local iron manufacturing factory in Birmingham, Alabama. Danielle had assumed the employment situation was fine.
    A long pause met her question. “I don’t work there anymore.”
    Danielle’s grip tightened around the burner phone, and she straightened in the car seat. “What?” she asked. “Since when?”
    “For a month,” Carmen muttered.
    “A month?” Danielle shouted. What the hell? “Carmen, you never said—”
    “Get off my back, El,” her sister growled. “I may check in with these phone calls, but last I remembered, you weren’t my mother. I don’t have to report my every move to you.”
    A thunderous silence stretched between them. Meth . Relapse . Spiraling . The words boomed between them, unspoken but deafening. For the past eight years, Carmen had battled a voracious drug addiction. Marijuana, cocaine, and,