Free Cache a Predator by Michelle Weidenbenner

saddle. The lady’s blond hair tumbled past her shoulders, and she stood at least five inches taller than the vocalist, just a few inches shorter than Brett. Something about the way she stared at him with her large deep-set brown eyes made him feel like an insect under a microscope.
    The dark-haired woman in the glasses stepped toward him with her hand out. “Mr. Reed? I’m Peggy Turnball.”
    He shook her hand. “Yes, come in. Call me Brett.” Lambie fell out from under his arm. He bent to retrieve it, his face feeling hot.
    Mrs. Turnball didn’t smile, but she didn’t seem cold either, just preoccupied. “You can call me Peggy.” She nodded toward the other lady. “This is Dr. Sarah Grinwald, Quinn’s assessment counselor.”
    The doctor reached for Brett’s hand, locking her eyes on him and seeming to smirk at the lamb under his arm. “Call me Sarah.” Her voice sounded smooth and soothing, the kind of voice a therapist might use to get someone to say how they felt.
    He took her hand in his, noticing her firm, confident grip. “Call me Brett.” He held the lamb out. “Quinn’s lamb. She takes it everywhere.” A knot formed in his throat. He coughed, trying not to look like as nervous as he felt.
    Sarah nodded as if she understood. She didn’t look like any doctor he’d ever met. She continued to eye him, as if she could see into his soul and knew his intimate thoughts. It made his mouth dry. What had Quinn told her?
    Peggy said, “Was that Quinn’s mom leaving?” She pointed in the direction Ali had fled.
    Brett nodded. “Yep, I couldn’t get her to stay.” He motioned for them to enter. “Come in.”
    Peggy paused in the doorway, cocking her head to the side. “This is her house, but you’re here alone?”
    “You asked me to meet you here.”
    “Yes, but I hadn’t realized until I read your file that there was a protective order against you.”
    “Let me ask you something—if your child called you crying, asking for help, would you let a protective order stand in your way?” He paused. “Look, all I want is to do whatever is necessary to get custody of Quinn.”
    “Do you have your own key to enter any time you want?”
    “Yes, but I only come when I think Quinn’s in danger.”
    Peggy glanced at Sarah and back at Brett and then at his arm, nodding. “Did you fight with her?”
    Brett followed her line of vision to the scratch on his arm. Great! “It’s not what it seems. I tried to take her keys away.”
    Peggy paused.
    He motioned for them to enter. “I didn’t hurt her. Come in and we can talk about it.”
    Peggy exchanged looks with Sarah. “These are exigent circumstances, so we’ll come in to assess, but it would have been advantageous for us to talk to her.”
    “I told her that, but she took off anyway. She probably didn’t want you to smell the booze on her breath.” He jostled around them to close the door. “I can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do.” He motioned for them to head to the living room. “Excuse the mess and the stench. I didn’t clean up because I wanted you to see the way Ali lives.”
    Both women entered hesitantly.
    “Look,” he said, “I’m a good guy, a cop. My job is to help people in this community, not harm them.”

Chapter Eight
    Sarah couldn’t take her eyes off of Quinn’s dad when he answered the door. His appearance startled her. It wasn’t because he was in a cop’s uniform, because men in uniforms never tripped her trigger. She typically liked the rugged outdoorsy-looking guys. When she’d heard he was a cop, she figured he’d be the typical bad-ass type, but he looked more like a schoolteacher, especially carrying the stuffed lamb under his arm. His curly dark hair hung just a tad over his ears, and his pale blue eyes reminded her of an adult male version of Quinn.
    His innocent but desperate look really knocked her off balance too. It was the same look Quinn had displayed before she left Sarah’s