Hearts and Aces (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 7) by Kaylie Hunter (dar e dil novel online reading txt) 📕

“Can you sit? It’s important.”

Kristyn exhaled slowly. “I’m sitting, but give me a moment. I’ve been waiting for this call for five years.”

“It’s not what you think. She’s alive. We found Allie. Your uncle was keeping her prisoner behind his trailer in an old cellar.”

“What? How? Why?” she cried. “I don’t understand.”

“Breathe, Kristyn,” I said in a slow calm voice. “Slow your breathing down.” I waited a moment before I heard her gasps for air retreat. “She’s going to be okay. She’s at St. Francis hospital in Lafayette, and her parents are already on their way. Blake Foster is also with her. He was part of the rescue team who found her.”

“I can’t believe this. I thought she was dead.”

“We all did. I’ve been working these cases for a long time, and everything indicated she was dead.” A laugh escaped me. “I’m sure as hell glad I was wrong.”

“It’s her? You’re sure?”

“Hang on,” I said, pausing to look at my phone and forward a picture. “You tell me. I just sent a photo.”

There was a brief pause before Kristyn gasped, followed by shrieking. “It’s her! She’s alive! I have to go. I need to get to the hospital.”

“Drive safe. She’ll be there when you get there. Blake will stay with her until then. He’ll protect her.”

“Thank you,” she said, crying as she hung up.

Hearing someone behind me, I turned to see Bridget and Beth.

“That must have felt good,” Beth said, walking over and placing a hand on my shoulder.

“It did,” I agreed. “It’s not often we get a win like today.”

 “I’m taking the credit for this one,” Tech said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. “You didn’t want to even look at the case.”

“You’re right. It read on paper like a few others I haven’t solved,” I said, nodding toward the missing prostitute files. “The unsolved cases haunt me.”

“That’s not the ending this time, though.” Bridget set a fabric tote on top of the table. “We brought you guys a celebratory present.” She pulled a six pack of beer out of the tote.

“What if the case had turned sideways?” I asked.

“Then the beer would’ve gone well with the box of tissues.” Bridget pulled a box of tissues from the tote and tossed the box at me. I caught the box, tossing it on top of the credenza.

Tech opened several beers, passing them around. “I’d say we did pretty good for a Tuesday afternoon. I’m all for quitting early.”

I glanced at the clock, realizing it was only three, and sighed before taking a long drink of my beer. “You can call it a day. I’m too far behind.”

“I figured you’d say that,” Bridget said, pulling another six pack from the tote. “At least we won’t be thirsty while we work.”

Tech laughed. “What the hell. I’ll keep going as long as I can drink.”

“There’s the spirit,” I said, slugging him in the shoulder. “Bridget, where are we at on the jewel thief?”

“I’m in love. Don’t tell Bones,” Bridget said, sliding a file to me. “The bastard only robs people who deserve it. He or she steals their victim’s most expensive piece of art or jewelry, usually during a social event, then he or she disappears.”

“Who’s offering the reward money?”

“Four of the victims pooled their money for the reward,” Beth said. “They know each other. All four are members of a prestigious yacht club in California.”

“Have any of the stolen items turned up on the black market?”

“Not that Carl could find,” Bridget said, shaking her head.

“What’s your theory?” I asked her.

Bridget smirked. “I find it strange that four of the nine victims know each other. Especially when two of the four have houses on the east coast, and the other two reside on the west coast.”

“I have houses scattered across the country,” I said. “I might even know one of the victims.”

“You do, actually,” Tech said.

“Who?”

“Mark Farlow.”

I cycled the name through my brain a few times until the light bulb came on. “The creeper in South Carolina who was stalking that waitress?”

Tech nodded. “The charges never stuck. He was released, agreeing to stay away from the waitress. She filed a lawsuit, but I heard they settled out of court.”

“She went through hell because of that guy. I hope she walked away with a fortune.”

Bridget’s eyes sparkled with humor. “Even if she didn’t, he lost big time, that’s for sure. The thief stole a Picasso painting valued at over twenty-two million.”

“He would’ve had it insured. There’s no big punishment for him in that.”

“That’s where it gets interesting,” Beth said. “All the victims had lapses in their insurance coverage when the thefts occurred.”

Tech and I glanced at each other before leaning forward in our chairs.

Bridget and Beth shared a conspiratorial grin before Bridget explained. “Apparently, each victim cancelled their insurance policies a few days before the robberies.”

I whistled slowly. “Which they never did. Whoever our thief is, he didn’t want them to collect the insurance claim.”

“Exactly,” Bridget said. “The big question is, how would the thief know their insurance information?”

“Same insurance company?” I asked.

Bridget shook her head. “Nope.”

“Hacker?” Tech asked.

“Doubtful,” Beth said. “The policies were all cancelled by letters sent in advance to the insurance companies. A hacker would’ve cancelled the policies electronically.”

 I tapped my pen against the table. “If my agent got a letter from me saying to cancel my coverage, he’d better damn well call me.”

“Maybe the agents didn’t know, since the policies were cancelled at the corporate offices,” Bridget said.

“That’s a theory we can check on,” I said. “Until then, let’s keep going. Are all the victims sex offenders of some kind?”

“No,” Bridget said. “But they’re all assholes. We have