Killer Heat. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.
He was the real deal. So why hadn’t he tried to enter her house when he had her in such a vulnerable position last night? Why had he settled for letting her know what he could have done?
Because he thought he could get to her anytime he wanted….
The waitress appeared with her meal.
Francesca managed to smile and offer a brief thanks, and then attempted to eat a French fry or two. But she couldn’t taste the food and her stomach felt too queasy to force it down.
Giving up without touching her burger, she tossed fifteen bucks on the table and left the relative safety of the Palace. As much as she wanted to blend in with the shoppers outside and be anonymous for a while, she needed to get to a pay phone and call her assistant. Heather must be going crazy. She hadn’t heard from Francesca all day. They usually kept in fairly close touch. But then, Francesca usually had a cell phone.
That was what she needed to solve first, she decided. She had to shake off her fatigue and her reaction to the events of the past twenty-four hours and buy a new cell. While she was waiting for her phone to be activated, she could use one of the other phones at the store to call Heather; Heather could make sure her home line was repaired and check in with the locksmith, who hadn’t been able to leave a message because of her severed line.
But in order to buy a new phone, she needed to withdraw some money from the bank. And without her ATM card or her ID that wouldn’t be easy.
Fortunately, she knew the manager of her local branch. She could only hope he’d believe her about her purse being stolen. She’d try to get there before closing and hit the DMV tomorrow. There wouldn’t be enough time to do everything in what was left of today.
Butch had put her in a real bind.
And this might be just the beginning.
“Hey, I’m taking off.”
Jonah blinked, realized where he was and lifted his head off the desk to see Dr. Price at the door. He’d gone into the back office to check his e-mail and contact a forensic profiler he’d used in the past and must’ve fallen asleep. Fatigue still dragged at him, but he was hoping he’d feel better in a few minutes. At least he’d had a nap. “Good. You need a break, a chance to return to regular life,” he told her.
“I don’t really have a choice. It’s my daughter’s birth day and I promised to watch the kids so she and her husband can go to dinner. You can’t let work take over completely, you know? You have to draw a line somewhere.”
He got the impression that pep talk was aimed more at herself than him, but she was right. She needed to be there for her kids, despite the case they were working on. “I agree.”
She arched a motherly eyebrow at him. “I hope you’re going to leave, too.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because a two-hour nap won’t compensate for all the sleep you’ve lost in the past few days. We can’t run ourselves into the ground, Jonah. We’ve got to be fresh in order to do our jobs.”
That was true, too. But in a situation where every minute counted, taking time off felt as if he was putting lives at risk. After this morning, he was more motivated than ever to remain vigilant. “Does that mean you’ll be heading home after you babysit?”
A wry smile curved her lips. “We’ll see what time the lovebirds get back.”
“Right.” He chuckled at her evasive reply, knew that if the “lovebirds” got home early she’d wind up here until midnight or after. “Have you heard from Finch or Hunsacker?” he asked before she could go.
“No.”
“Thanks. Enjoy your grandkids. And be safe.”
“I will. Get some dinner, okay?” She threw those parting words over her shoulder. Then he heard the main door close as she went out and checked his phone for a list of the calls he’d missed while he was asleep.
Nothing from the investigators. Had they heard from the pathologist? Had they been able to identify the body they’d removed from Skull Valley this morning? It was a bit early to hope they had, but Finch had said the M.E. planned to do the autopsy right away. That was exactly what Jonah thought should happen. Because they were looking at such a prolific killer, the wheels of justice needed to move a lot faster than usual.
With a yawn, he scrubbed his face with one hand and continued down the list of missed calls. He hadn’t heard from Francesca, either. Other than leaving a message with her assistant, which he’d already done, he had no way of getting in touch with her.
He should’ve brought her here after their meeting so she could see what they were working with. But she’d left the sheriff’s station rather suddenly, while he was speaking to Finch and Hunsacker about the woman who found the corpse. He hadn’t gone after her because he’d known that what she’d seen had upset her. He’d felt she needed some space.
Now he regretted giving her that space. He had no idea where she was or where she planned to spend the night. He hoped it wasn’t at home again. Maybe Butch had only been playing with her when he showed up next to her pool last night, but a man like that could get serious very fast.
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