Proof of Life. Laura ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
hint of vulnerability made him hesitate. Maybe because he was a pushover for a woman in distress. Yet she seemed just as determined to stand alone. A part of him admired her independence while another part of him was annoyed at her stubborn foolishness.
“Are you going to call the police?” he asked for the third time.
“Not right now. It’s late. I’ll wait until the morning. This isn’t an emergency and there isn’t anything they’re going to be able to do about the notes tonight. Especially since I can’t even give them a reasonable description of the suspect.”
He knew she was right, but that didn’t make it any easier for him to leave. He glanced around her small living room. “I don’t like leaving you here alone.”
“I’ll be fine.” The underlying steel in her tone finally convinced him.
“Okay, but do me a favor.” He held her gaze, imploring her to listen to reason. “Close and lock every window.”
She grimaced and nodded. “I like having the cool fresh air from outside coming through the windows, but I’ll manage without for tonight,” she reluctantly agreed.
He waited until she’d gone through every room, closing and locking the windows. Standing in the kitchen, his gaze continued to linger on the notes.
Who could have sent them? And why? Someone who liked to play games, obviously. Mind games. The thought caused a sick feeling to settle in his gut.
“All set?” he asked when she came back toward him.
“Yes. Thanks for following me home.”
“You’re welcome.” He forced himself to walk toward the side door. “You have my cell-phone number. Promise you’ll call if you need anything.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”
He told himself she was right. She would be fine. Outside he paused and listened, satisfied to hear the dead bolt click into place. He headed toward his car, glancing back to look at her house. She’d shut off most of the lights, except maybe the one in her bedroom, which he couldn’t see from the street.
He slid behind the wheel and backed out of her driveway, intent on going home when he saw a car moving slowly down the street. Too slowly. Heart thudding in his chest, he pulled over to the side of the road, holding his breath as he waited. The car passed him by, turning into a driveway several houses down. The garage door opened, and the car disappeared inside.
“Idiot,” he muttered to himself. He was exhausted, had been up for over forty hours straight, but he couldn’t just go home.
Shutting off the car, he pulled the key out of the ignition and leaned his seat as far back as it could go. He cracked the windows so he could hear better, knowing he was going to spend the night here, watching over Shanna, despite her refusal to accept his help.
He was too tired to drive anyway.
Slouched in his car, he stared at Shanna’s dark house, wondering about her. Why was she so alone when she lived in a nice neighborhood that seemed like the perfect place to raise a family? The pain shadowing her eyes hadn’t all been from the notes, he was certain. Yet as much as he wanted to protect her, she seemed just as determined to brush off his help.
Rubbing his eyes, he briefly wished for peace rather than being haunted by the demons in his past. His dad had been a city cop for years. Hunting drug runners, witnessing armed robberies and murders, had taken its toll. His dad had turned to booze, ignoring the abuse he’d inflicted on his body until one day Quinn had come home to find his dad crumpled on the bathroom floor, lying in a pool of blood.
He’d called 911 but had already known it was too late. According to the coroner, his dad had been throwing up blood from some burst blood vessel in his esophagus, and had literally choked on it before he’d died.
The memory haunted him ever since.
Quinn had always avoided alcohol, but then he went a step further, giving up the stress of being a city cop to join the university campus police force. His mother had wanted him to get out of law enforcement altogether, claiming his dad’s job had ruined their marriage, but he couldn’t do it.
There was a part of him that needed to know he made a difference in the world, no matter how small and insignificant it may be.
His attraction to Shanna, though, forced him to remember all the reasons he veered away from relationships. He wasn’t a safe bet, and not just because of his family history of alcoholism. He knew from firsthand experience that women wanted a man who came home every night. Men who weren’t in danger. Men who didn’t obsess over their work. Even as a campus cop, he’d been drawn on by gang members with guns more times than he could count. Most recently by two idiots who decided to rob the corner coffee shop.
Leslie had left him, just like his mother had left his father. Proving he was better off alone.
With a sigh, he let his head fall back against the seat rest, unable to prevent himself from closing his eyes. He’d stay here outside Shanna’s place, making sure she called the police to report her stalker first thing in the morning. Once he was satisfied she’d taken steps to assure her safety, he’d go back to working Brady’s murder investigation where he’d left off.
Finding out who’d killed Brady had to remain his top priority.
Shanna didn’t sleep very well; the slightest noises kept waking her up. All because she’d let the creepy stalker get to her more than she’d wanted to admit.
At least she’d held it together in front of Quinn. He was too attractive for her peace of mind. Not handsome per se, but definitely ruggedly attractive. On top of that, he’d been nice, supportive. Not that she needed his help.
What she needed was action. Today she’d get a full investigation going on this note-writing guy, whoever he was. Stalking was against the law, as were threats. She’d find this guy and hand him over to the police the first chance she had.
With renewed determination, she took a quick shower and spent a few minutes blow-drying her hair before heading to the kitchen, intending to brew a pot of coffee.
As she walked past the entryway to the living room, she happened to glance through the large picture window overlooking the street. She froze, her heart leaping into her throat when she noticed the SUV parked directly across the street from her house. The car stood out because her neighbors across the street were elderly and didn’t drive. Fearing the worst, she grabbed her cell phone and almost punched the numbers for 911 when she realized why the car looked familiar.
It was the same car that had followed her home last night. The vehicle belonged to Quinn. Flipping her cell phone shut, she crossed over to the picture window in time to see Quinn yawning and stretching his arms over his head. While she was staring at him, he glanced toward her house, capturing her gaze. For a moment, the strange connection between them seemed to shimmer in the air.
Had he really slept out there all night? She was touched by his chivalry but was determined not to read more into his actions than the situation warranted. Uncertainly, she opened the front door. Was she supposed to invite him in after the way he’d slept in his car to protect her?
He climbed awkwardly from the car, his limbs obviously stiff from the cramped seat. But then he came straight toward her, meeting her halfway. “Morning, Shanna. Did you sleep well?”
She tried to act nonchalant. “Better than you, I’d be willing to bet. Quinn, it was very sweet of you to sleep in your car, but I told you I’d be fine.”
“I know, but I was too tired to drive,” he said, glancing longingly over her shoulder. “Is that coffee I smell?”
“Yes.” She felt bad about the exhaustion shadowing his features. As uncomfortable as she was having him there, the least she could do was feed him. “Come on in, there’s plenty to share.”
He followed her inside, crossing the living room to the kitchen.