LEAD ME ON Julie Ortolon (mind reading books .TXT) 📖

touch with you all day. Why don’t you ever listen to your damn answering machine?”

“Diane”—he sighed—“do you think we could skip the latest episode in your soap opera life just this once so I can ask you a favor? I don’t have my address book on me and I need the number for John’s lawyer. Can you look it up for me?”

“Not now. Scott, I need your help. Something serious has happened with Chloe.”

He went on mild alert, since “serious” was a relative term with his sister. “What this time? Did she dye her hair green? Pierce her navel?”

“She’s missing.”

“What?” The mild alert jumped up to code red. “What do you mean missing?”

“She’s run away!” his sister wailed. “I found a note ... on the kitchen table when I got home. Oh Scott, how could she do this? Where could she be? Doesn’t she realize how worried this would make me?”

“Okay, slow down, back up.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What time did you find the note?”

“When I got home.”

“What time!”

“I don’t know. About ten this morning.”

Jesus! His sister had left her twelve-year-old daughter alone all night while she was out, clubbing most likely. Even for Diane, that hit new lows of irresponsibility.

“Scott, please tell me she’s with you.”

“Why would she be with me?”

“Because her note said she was going to live with you, that you were the only person who cared whether she lived or died. How could she say that? Doesn’t she know how much I love her? How can she hurt me like this?”

Scott refrained from commenting as his sister fell to pieces. All the lectures in the world would do no good unless Diane miraculously decided to grow up. “Don’t panic,” he said when she wound down. “I’ll find her.”

“Thank you,” she sniffed, not bothering to ask how. “You always know what to do.”

He gritted his teeth in frustration. “Just do me one favor while I’m finding Chloe.”

“What?”

“Look up the number for John’s attorney.”

“Do I have to do that now?” she whined.

“Well, not this minute, but sometime in the next twenty-four hours, yes, I would appreciate it.”

“Why? So you can tell them to cut off my allowance?”

“Diane ...” He struggled to control his temper. “This isn’t about you, okay? I just need to talk to John’s attorney.”

“Why?”

“Because John LeRoche, our asshole of a father, is wreaking havoc on the lives of some very decent people, and I want to stop him.”

“What do you care? You disowned all of us years ago.”

I care because he’s hurting Allison. “Just get me the number, will ya?”

“Oh, all right! But promise you’ll find Chloe.”

“I’ll find her.” His mind raced as he hung up. If his niece had gone to his townhouse, she’d found it empty. She had a key, but Chloe alone in the French Quarter was not something he wanted to think about.

The kid was smart, though, and resourceful. Plus he’d given her a surefire way to contact him in case of emergencies. She had his agent’s phone number, and Hugh had instructions to help the kid if she ever needed to find him.

Dialing his agent’s office, he glanced at his watch and saw it was just after four o’clock. Five New York time. Please be there.

“Hugh Ashton.”

Thank God. “Hugh, it’s Scott.”

“Scott? Now why does that name sound familiar? I remember! I used to know someone named Scott many moons ago, but I think he fell off the ends of the earth.”

“Will you can it and listen? My niece, Chloe, is missing. Has she called there?”

“Actually, yes, she has.”

“When! What did she say?”

“She called this morning while I was in a meeting. Refused to leave a number for me to call her back. She finally got through to me about an hour ago.”

“What’d she say? Did she sound all right?”

“She sounded fine. And surprisingly mature. I thought you said she was just a kid.”

“She is a kid. She’s only twelve.”

“Well, she sounded older.”

“What did she say?”

“Only that she needed to talk to you. So I gave her the name and number of the inn where you’re staying. That’s okay, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s perfect.” Relief washed through him. “I need to go so I can find out if she’s called here. Do me a favor, though. If she calls you back, find out where she is. Then call me immediately.”

“Will do. But remember this the next time I ask you to call me back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott promised absently. After hanging up, he headed back to the kitchen.

Allison was seated with the others around the table.

Conversation stopped instantly and all attention turned on him.

“Does anyone know if my niece has called here in the last hour or so?” he asked. “Her name’s Chloe.”

Allison looked at the others.

“The only phone call you’ve had was from your editor,” Rory said. Though her voice was civil, her expression held no warmth. “I left the message on the dresser in your room.”

“You’re sure it was my editor, not a young girl? Chloe sounds very mature for her age.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Rory answered. “Unless your niece would be calling to ask why you haven’t faxed in a title suggestion for your next book.”

“All right. Thank you.” Fear churned in his gut as he turned away.

“Scott, wait.” Allison rose. “Has something happened?”

He shook his head, having no wish to air his problems before her scowling family. “It’s nothing. I need to make a few more phone calls, though, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.”

Allison watched him go, sensing there was something he wasn’t telling her. At the moment, though, she had her own problems to deal with. John LeRoche had been interviewed on the midday news in Houston about his company’s recent financial problems. LeRoche Shipping, the foundation company of LeRoche Enterprises, was closing their warehouse in Houston, putting hundreds of people out of work. During the live interview, the subject of the foreclosure on Pearl Island and subsequent lawsuit against the Liberty Union National Bank had come up.

According to Chance, who’d watched the whole segment, John