"Metz, Melinda - Roswell 01 - The Outsiders_v1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Metz Melinda)

"I didn't ask you," Papa snapped. "Are you a professional? No. You don't
know if you're fine or not."

"I'm the professional, and I say she's fine, too," the woman answered. "I
thought she might be in shock. I'd be in shock if someone shot at me. But
she's just fine." The woman glanced over her shoulder at her partner.
"Guess we should head out."

"Thanks." Liz pushed herself to her feet. Her father wrapped her in a hug
so tight, her ribs hurt. "Let's not tell Mama what happened, okay?" she
whispered.

"Are you kidding? There's no way your mother's radar would miss this. The
second one of us walked in the house, she'd know something was wrong." He
gave a choked laugh as he released her.

Liz scanned the cafe, searching for Max. She had to talk to him. She had
to find out what he did to her. But he was gone. So was Michael.

Max had sounded so intense when he asked her to lie for him, like it was
something really critical. If anyone took a close look at the floor, they
would know her ketchup story couldn't be true. The spatters of blood on
the tile floor looked bright red and shiny slick -- not tomato red and
clumpy.

"I -- I'd better mop up the ketchup. Someone is going to slip." Liz rushed
over to the corner and rolled the big yellow bucket over to the red
stains. She drenched the floor with dirty gray mop water.

"I'll do that," her father said. He pulled the mop out of her hands.

"Come on. Let's go to the ladies' room and get you cleaned up," Maria
said, slipping her arm through Liz's.

"Good idea." Liz didn't know how much longer she could stand here acting
calm and talking about ketchup.

She turned toward her friend. Maria's face was pale. Her peachy pink blush
looked way too dark now. It stood out on her cheeks in ugly splotches.

Before Liz could take a step, the front door of the cafe swung open and
Sheriff Valenti strode in. The heels of his boots echoed on the tile floor
as he made his way up to the counter.

Everyone at Olsen High knew Kyle's father. He did a locker search
practically every week. He stopped anyone under eighteen who was driving
even one mile over the speed limit. He showed up at practically every
party, checking to see if there was any underage drinking going on.