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Texas Prey. Barb HanЧитать онлайн книгу.

Texas Prey - Barb Han


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away, ignoring the sensations zinging through his hand from making contact with her skin and the warning bells sounding off inside his head.

      She glanced at him and then cast her gaze intently on the table, drawing circles with her index finger. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t told him to sit down and wait for me by the willow tree so I could finish the mission he’d still be alive today.”

      “Don’t do that to yourself. None of this is your fault.”

      Her shoulders slumped forward. “What else can we do?”

      Yeah, her stress indicator was the same. And Brody wanted to make it better.

      “I’ll figure out a way to get a copy of the file so I can review the list of suspects again. I have a friend in Records and she owes me a favor. Fresh eyes can be a big help and might give us more clues.” Brody rubbed the stubble on his chin.

      “With the festival going on this guy could blend in again, couldn’t he?”

      “Yeah. We have to look at everything differently this time. He might be someone local who hides behind the festival. Maybe he knew that was the first place law enforcement would look.”

      “You’re right. He could be a normal person, a banker or store clerk.” A spark lit behind her eyes, and under different circumstances it’d be sexy as hell.

      “It’s likely. He could be married and involved in a church or youth group. He might be a bus driver or substitute teacher. It’s very well possible he could work with kids or in a job where he has access to families. We have to consider everyone. Those are great places to start.”

      “I just focused on what the sheriff had said before, him being transient. None of these options occurred to me.” She shuddered.

      Brody sipped his coffee. “It’s not a bad thing that you don’t think like a criminal.”

      “If we need help, Charles Alcorn offered,” she said.

      “A man in his position would be a good resource to have on our side.” Brody leaned forward. “So this is how it’s going to go. I follow you. Everywhere. You got a date, I’m right behind you.” The thought of sitting outside her house while another man was inside doing God knows what with her sat in his stomach like bad steak. And yet, they were both grown adults. It shouldn’t bother him. Wasn’t as if he’d been chaste, either.

      “I’m not dating.”

      Brody suppressed the flicker of happiness those words gave him. He had no right to care.

      “And I don’t want to stop you from doing...whatever,” she added quickly.

      Why did the way she said that knife him?

      “Don’t worry about my personal life. I’m here to do a job. That’s all I care about right now.” Why was that more of a reminder for him than for her?

      Working with her was going to be more difficult than he’d originally thought. And not because errant sexual thoughts crossed his mind every time he got close enough to smell her shampoo. It was citrus and flowery. Being with her brought up their painful past, but they’d shared a lot of good memories, too. Like their first kiss. They’d skipped the Friday afternoon pep rally junior year and headed down to the lake in the old Mustang he’d bought and fixed up using money from his after-school job at his dad’s garage.

      As they sat on the hood of his car parked in front of Mason Ridge Lake, she’d leaned her head on his shoulder. And then decimated his defenses when she looked up at him with those honey browns. His heart had squeezed in the same way it did earlier today when he saw her again. She still had that same citrus and flowery scent and it made his pulse race just as it had before. He remembered the warmth of her body against his side, her soft lips as they slightly parted.

      Brody had leaned in slowly and her lips gently brushed against his; her tongue flickered across his mouth.

      Afterward, they’d just sat there, silent, before he’d pulled her into a hug.

      The kiss had lasted only a few seconds but was burned into his memory. How many times had he thought about those sweet lips when he was an ocean away with his face in the dirt? How many times since? Too many.

      Brody glanced at his watch. “I’ll connect with my friend and see what I can find out about that file.”

      “Okay.” She leaned forward, rubbing her eyes, suppressing a yawn. “What else?”

      “You used to look for Shane everywhere. My guess is that you haven’t stopped. Am I right?”

      “Yes. I scan social media on my days off.”

      “Any hits?”

      She shrugged. “Not real ones. I’ve been hit on plenty, though.”

      “Men can be such jerks.”

      “Women are far worse. You’d be shocked at the messages I get from someone calling herself Adriana.” Rebecca rolled her eyes.

      “I have a few like those, too,” he said in an attempt to lighten the tension.

      “I’m sure you’ve been exposed to worse, having been in a war zone.”

      “I’ve seen my fair share of everything, here and abroad,” he said. “You ever follow up on any of those real messages?”

      “A handful. Why?” She paused and her eyes grew wide. “You don’t think one of them could be stalking me?”

      “Not sure. I was thinking it might be a good place to start.”

      She brought her hand up and squeezed the bottom of her neck on the left side, subconsciously trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. Her face muscles bunched. Signs her stress levels were climbing.

      “Has anything else out of the ordinary happened to you recently? He had to know your schedule to know where you’d be this morning. I don’t believe the grocery store was a random encounter.”

      “Now that you mention it, I’ve been hearing noises in the evenings before I leave for work. I thought it was the neighbor’s cat at first. Now, I’m wondering if it could’ve been him.”

      “We’ll check the perimeter of your house. The recent rain might have left us with evidence.”

      There’d been one of those open-up-the-sky-and-let-the-rain-pour-down-in-buckets storms North Texas was known for the other night. She scooted her chair back and slung her purse strap over her shoulder.

      “There was also that unusually persistent reporter last week. I think his name is Peter Sheffield. I got off a few minutes early, so I was alone in the parking lot. He nearly gave me a heart attack waiting at my car after my shift at the radio station. Do you think he could be involved?”

      “From here on out, I want you to suspect every sound, every person.” Brody’s gaze narrowed.

      “So, what you’re saying is...act like I always do.”

      He didn’t like the sound of those words. “This guy might’ve been trying to scare you into an interview.”

      “That’s crazy. People actually do that?”

      Brody tapped his knuckles on the table. “I remember him now. He used to hang out with Justin, didn’t he? Then he dropped out of Texas State U to join the military.”

      “That’s right. He did. Are you saying you think he might be involved?”

      “We need to look at everyone who was out that night playing the game. And especially Justin’s friends.”

      Rebecca nearly choked on her sip of coffee. “I hadn’t thought about it being someone so young. The apple tobacco. I just figured it had to be someone older.”

      “Maybe it is. But we’re not taking anything for granted this time.” He took the last swig of coffee, tilted the cup and


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