The Imposter Marin Montgomery (rom com books to read TXT) 📖

swear he could learn a lot from watching Law and Order. The actors have more experience with a crime scene than that idiot.”

A pout tugs at Sibley’s mouth. “Look, Mother, if it makes you feel better, I doubt someone’s going to try anything when there are clearly people at home and it’s not even dark yet.”

“Then how do you explain what happened in January?” Deborah says, bristling. “One of the coldest days of the year didn’t stop them.”

“At least my car is in the drive,” Sibley muses. “I’d hope a visitor would scare away someone with bad intentions.”

“Doubtful,” Deborah counters. “The Clancy family was tied up and left in their shed in broad daylight.”

Sibley recoils as if she’s been slapped with the serving spoon from earlier. “How about I make us more tea?” she offers gently. “I know you said you liked it at night.” Sibley pulls out chamomile and busies herself with boiling the water.

Without a word, Deborah barrels into the living room, her limp more pronounced as she tries to scurry toward the double picture windows that face the highway.

Sibley asks, “Could it be the delivery guy? Or maybe the mailman?”

“You know the mailman only stops at the end of the drive.”

“What about packages, though? Are you expecting anything?”

“No.” Deborah wrings her hands. “Not until I hear from my lawyer.”

She didn’t mean to let that slip, and glancing over her shoulder, she’s relieved Sibley is removing two mugs from the cupboard. If she heard, she doesn’t say anything.

Gingerly, Deborah tugs aside the faded curtains, careful not to pull them too far away from the glass lest she meet someone’s prying eyes. She intently scans the overrun yard as the sun fades behind the clouds. The burnt orange fades in and out of sight as if playing a game of peekaboo. She’s uncertain whether to be relieved or annoyed when her eyes don’t spot anything out of the ordinary.

In the background, the microwave beeps, signaling the water is ready for their tea.

Sighing loudly, Deborah tucks the blanket from her mother around her shivering frame. When it’s wrapped around her shoulders, an immediate sense of calm envelops her like a hug until the antique grandfather clock startles both women with a boom as it chimes eight o’clock.

A loud thud interrupts the final ding, and at first, Deborah thinks Sibley has dropped and broken her mug, but she’s got one in each hand as she sets them down on the side table.

Sibley’s face registers surprise, and her eyes dart nervously around the living room. They make eye contact as pounding indicates someone’s at the front door.

“At least they knocked.” Sibley tries to act unbothered, but her jaw is tense. “Unlike me.”

“Did you tell any of your old friends to drop by?”

“No. I didn’t.” She suggests, “Maybe it’s just the neighbor.”

“Maybe.” Now Deborah worries Robert has shown up unexpectedly, but if he did, he would have a good reason. Otherwise, he wouldn’t barge in, out of respect for Deborah.

“I’ll see who it is.” Sibley starts to go to the door, but Deborah holds out a hand to stop her.

Ignoring Sibley’s protests, she unlocks the dead bolt. “It’s okay. I’ll answer the door.”

She swings it open with a shaky hand, and her hand flies to her heart.

Standing on the other side of the screen door is Miles Fletcher, with damp hair and no uniform, his mouth in a tight line.

“Miles.” She tilts her head. “You scared the living daylights out of us.”

“Hi, ma’am.” He wrinkles his nose in confusion. “I rang the bell.”

Deborah isn’t a fan of this particular Fletcher. In her mind, he’s a lying crook. Her refusal to address him by any title relevant to his position on the police force doesn’t deter him from addressing her respectfully.

If he catches her hateful stare, he ignores it, choosing to remove his ball cap and wave it in her direction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What’re you doing sneaking around on the porch?”

His eyes betray a hint of guilt, and he refuses to meet her penetrating gaze. “Is Sibby here?”

“You could’ve called first to check, but yes.”

“I didn’t think she’d split this fast.” With a tug on his ear, he says, “I wanted to check up on her. Make sure she’s getting settled all right.”

“I assure you, she’s fine, except for the heart palpitations you caused us.”

Sibley appears behind Deborah at the door. “I can speak for myself, Mother.” As she leans against the doorjamb, Sibley’s voice betrays a hint of unease. “Two times in one day. To what do I owe this honor?”

Miles chuckles, but it’s strangled. “The pleasure is not mine, unfortunately.” He shifts his weight to the other leg. “You got a minute to talk?”

Sibley hesitates for a beat, then agrees, “Sure.”

Deborah doesn’t make a move to usher Miles into the house, instead shooing them like she used to when they were teenagers. “Why don’t you kids catch up outside on the porch. It’s such a nice night, and that way you can have some privacy.”

“Fine, Mother.” Sibley rolls her eyes, first at Miles, then at Deborah. “Can I put some shoes on first?”

“Actually, as peaceful as sitting outside sounds, this is a conversation I want to have with both of you ladies.”

“Is it about the string of robberies?” Deborah asks. “Do you have a suspect?”

“I wish.” Miles shakes his head. “But no, this is unrelated.”

Deborah huffs. “If this is official police business, why aren’t you in your uniform?”

“You’re going to be glad I’m not in my uniform.” A hint of irritation laces his tone. “Mind if I come in first? I need a drink.”

“You know I don’t keep alcohol in the house.”

“Water. Just a glass of water,” Miles clarifies.

Both women peer at the sweat dripping down his forehead. Deborah would bet it’s nerves and not the temperature.

Sibley locks eyes with him. “I’ll come outside. No need to stress my mother out.”

“Stop it, Sibley,” Deborah says acerbically. “You act like I’m fragile. If Miles thinks I need to know,