The Trophy Hunter Read Online Free

the
effort. “Like old fart doesn’t create an image. What else
should I know about him?”
    “He’s an all man.” Jess had a twinkle
in her eye.
    “Okay. I’ll bite. All what? All man?”
    “ All , as in O-I-L. Oklahoma
crude.”

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 3
     
    Diana wore a deep red business suit on her
first day back in the office. A Wednesday─not the Monday she’d
planned. She was strong, but not that strong. Jess had
indeed persuaded her to cut herself some slack. Even so, it had
been only eight days since her surgery, and she’d not yet been back
to Dr. Hovac for her follow-up exam.
    Red, her favorite color, inspired confidence.
Conveyed confidence. At least that was what she told herself. Still
on pain medication, she’d taken a cab to work. When Dr. Hovac had
released her from the hospital, he’d instructed her to come back in
ten days for an evaluation relative to being cleared to drive her
car. She knew he had never imagined that she’d go back to work this
soon. She smiled at the thought that she would fool everyone, Greg
included, and sail through these rough waters without a backward
glance.
    Aghh. But the pain kept grabbing her
when she moved. She had to cut the painkiller dosage in half in
order to have half a functioning brain. Thank goodness she’d hired
Tamara before this thing happened.
    This thing. She didn’t want to name
what had happened that in her eyes turned her into a neuter,
anymore than she wanted to name the baby who had never taken a
breath. If she let herself go there, she’d shatter
completely. Right now, she was maimed but functional. She’d settle
for that.
    Diana looked around and for the first time
noticed a small array of flowers and plants. She’d instructed
Tamara to give minimal information to clients whose appointments
had to be changed and no information to her parents, who were out
of state. She’d have to deal with their questions eventually. The
buzzer on her desk phone sounded. Diana picked it up and heard
Tamara’s crisp voice announce, “Mr. Flannigan is here.”
    Jess’s referral. “Please show him in,
Tamara.”
    He moved through the doorway slowly, like a
bear coming out of hibernation. A large man whose jeans and plaid
flannel shirt hung loosely on him. He looked tired. Dark circles
underscored his faded blue eyes. His thatch of straw-colored hair
laced with gray looked in need of a barber. Diana gauged his age to
be early sixties and imagined that his still-considerable bulk must
have decreased since buying the clothes he wore.
    She stood and reached across the desk to
shake his hand, and then felt the vise of his huge paw nearly crush
her fingers. “Please have a seat, Mr. Flannigan,” she said as she
sank carefully back into the soft leather of her chair.
    He nodded without smiling as his eyes took in
the room with its expensive amenities. Diana could see him pause as
he scanned the walls that were covered with original wildlife
paintings. A Remington bronze topped the credenza behind her desk.
She watched the man’s hooded eyes hover there for several seconds
before he took a seat in the client chair opposite her.
    “Jess tells me you have a custody problem
concerning your grandchildren,” Diana began, to break the awkward
silence, glad he hadn’t mentioned the array of flowers.
    He seemed to snap back from wherever he’d
gone. “Uh-huh. The wife and I have the kids now, but we’d like to
make it legal,” he said in a gravelly drawl. “And permanent,” he
added with emphasis on permanent .
    Diana made some notes on the legal pad before
her and asked, “Where are the parents?”
    Flannigan passed a beefy hand across his
face, as if he could erase the strong emotions that bled through.
“Their mother … my daughter Brandi … she’s been missin’ since the
middle of October. We think she’s dead.”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Flannigan─”
    “Joe,” he interrupted. “Joe’ll do just fine.
You’re Diana. Right?” His eyes crinkled