by Sharon Sala
Pete frowned. “Well hell, girl, of course I’m sure. I’m looking at the map right now. So is there something still down there that could account for this?”
“Wait a second while I go get my laptop,” she said, and raced for her office.
She hadn’t touched it since the day they’d come home. Now she was frantic to bring the program back up. It didn’t take long for it to load, and when it did, she saw it, just like Pete claimed.
“Yes. I see it, too,” she said.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She thought of the car Presley and the tattooed man had driven across the border, and the money Pete had bugged that had been taken from Presley’s office. Although she’d never seen it, she had assumed that it had burned up in the fire. However, the car had been at the back of the house, a distance away from the fire. What if it hadn’t burned up? What if Presley’s stuff had still been inside? What if they only thought Tutuola had died? She had a very sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that she should have overridden Wilson’s urgency to get away and gone back to search the ruins for a body.
Pete frowned. She wasn’t answering, which didn’t bode well.
“Cat?”
“What?”
“What do you suppose we’re seeing?”
She knew the man’s name now. Mark Presley had given that up along with everything else when his lawyer had bartered for his life.
Solomon Tutuola had killed her father. He was supposed to be dead. But what if he wasn’t?
She rubbed a finger along the scar on her neck and had to clear her throat twice before she could speak. Even then, her voice cracked when she answered.
“I’m not sure, but it just might be a ghost.”
ISBN:978-1-55254-675-8
NINE LIVES
Copyright © 2006 by Sharon Sala.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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