What the Heart Knows: A Milford-Haven Novel - Book One Read Online Free

thing that’d varied between the two sets of plans was something about the steel: different manufacturers, but also different grades. She figured a quick look at exposed steel beams under the house would reveal which steel had actually been used.
    How do I get down there?
She walked from the kitchen across the expanse of the living room and discovered a stairwell against the far wall. But at the moment it contained neither stairs nor a plank. She thought back for a moment
Oh … there was a ladder in that opening by the fireplace
. Cursing again, she began walking carefully toward the gaping hole.
    Just then another sound reached her—closer than the persistent wind and crashing surf.
What was that? A scrape … a footfall? Or is that Mr. Man? About time he got here. But I didn’t see any headlights. What if it’s not him?
Clicking off her flashlight, she pressed her body against the closest beam.
I’m alone in a windswept rattletrap of wood beams and metal scraps, and I should’ve been home doing my nails before driving to Santa Barbara to meet Joseph
.
    She breathed deeply and tried to picture herself arriving home, refreshing her polish and makeup, locking the door behind her, starting the SUV’s engine.
Details
. They were always her best defense against fear.
    She listened a moment longer, hearing no further scraping.
Just my nerves
. She clicked her flashlight back on, then continued toward the hearth-well. The ladder itself seemed to disappear into the depths. “It’s the blackest hole I’ve ever seen,” she muttered. “Blacker than a black cat’s ass—on black velvet”
    “There’s a quick way down there, Ms. Christian.”
    “Ahh!” She whirled toward the voice that’d burst out ofnowhere. “Who—?”
That’s not my contact’s voice
. Her throat spasmed, and she gulped air, her heart pounding louder than the surf. “Where—?” She gasped. “You just about scared the ….” Struggling for calm, she clutched her flashlight and tried to keep its beam from bouncing across the man’s features.
    His seamed face loomed over a hulking physique.
Any distinguishing marks? Yes! I thought it was a shadow, but that’s a mole on his left cheek … size of a quarter. Can’t really see his eyes
. She inhaled. “What … what are you doing here?”
    “The question should be what
are you
doing here, Ms. Christian.I work here.” The voice was steady, self-assured.
    “Of course you do.”
Why does he know my name?
She struggled for a casual tone. “Good thing you’re here, because I could really use some help.” A laugh erupted from her throat like a burst of static from a malfunctioning radio. “Actually, I wanted to look around in the basement, but it’s so hard to see in the dark”
    The guy said nothing. Chris wondered how long she could keep producing an uninterrupted stream of words, hoping to use them like a protective force field.
Keep talking. Redirect the focus to him
. “Say, you didn’t even bring a flashlight.”
    “Very observant.”
    Get a conversation going
. “Guess we both counted on moonlight”
    “Not with these clouds.”
    “You must know the house real well if you work here.”
Burly muscles, heavy work boots
. “One of the construction crew, huh?”
    “Right again.”
    “Well, listen, I’m running late for an appointment andsomeone’s waiting for me. He tends to get upset when I’m not on time. I’ll come back in the daylight when I can see better.” She made a move away from the hearth-well, but it only brought her closer to him. As she took another step, her foot caught on something, pitching her forward.
    The worker’s arm shot out in front of her, his large hand capturing hers as she regained her balance.
He couldn’t stop the impulse to catch me
. She stood toe-to-toe with him now, and could smell alcohol on his breath as he exhaled.
Probably a bourbon drinker
, she noted, unable to stop cataloguing details.
    His hand opened suddenly. She slipped hers free