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Married Or Not?. Brenda JacksonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Married Or Not? - Brenda Jackson


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don’t we go to my place? I’ll make coffee and I’ve got some bakery cookies if you want something more than coffee.”

      “I’m not going to touch that one,” he replied wryly.

      She laughed.

      They pulled up in front of her apartment building and climbed the stairs to the second story. Greg was teasing her about staying in shape because of the climb when he came to an abrupt stop and grabbed her wrist.

      She looked at him in alarm. “What?”

      He nodded toward her door. She hadn’t noticed that the door of her apartment was slightly ajar until he pointed it out. She froze. He put his finger to his lips and pulled her behind him.

      She had no idea when he’d pulled a pistol. She didn’t even know he carried one but there was one in his hand now.

      “Stay here,” he said next to her ear.

      She nodded.

      He moved closer and listened. After several moments he pushed the door open and waited.

      Nothing happened.

      Greg found the light switch just inside the door and flipped it on. She peered around the door and gasped.

      “I told you to stay back there,” he said gruffly. “I need to check out the rest of the place.”

      She nodded mutely, her fist to her mouth.

      Someone had come in and destroyed her apartment. There was no other word to describe it. Every piece of furniture had been broken or ripped apart. Curtains hung in shreds, dishes were smashed and when she followed Greg into her bedroom, she saw that her closet had been emptied and her clothes ripped into pieces. She didn’t need to check her drawers because they were broken and on the floor, their contents cut up.

      Her bed had fared no better. Mattress stuffing littered the bed and floor, along with the remains of her pillows and linens.

      Without a word Sherri stepped around Greg, who had put his gun away, and stepped inside her bathroom.

      “Be careful,” he said from behind her. “Shattered glass and pieces of the mirror are on the floor.”

      She didn’t want to see any more. Sherri turned away and saw Greg using his cell phone.

      “Get the forensic team over here now.” He rattled off her address and hung up before looking at her. “We’ll wait outside until they get here. I don’t want to contaminate the scene.”

      Sherri looked around her. She felt violated. Someone had broken into her apartment and deliberately and systematically destroyed it. She had nothing left: no clothes, no place to sleep, nothing. The whole apartment had been defiled. She wrapped her arms around her waist and shivered.

      Greg touched her shoulder. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. Let’s get some air.”

      Only then did Sherri notice the heavy scent of cologne from the broken bottles in the bathroom. Once out in the hallway he pulled her close to his side and continued to hold her as they walked outside and back to his car.

      He opened her door and waited for her to slide inside the car before he carefully closed it and walked around to the other side.

      The man who had taken her to dinner and a movie was gone. In his place was a frowning, tough and formidable cop.

      Greg got into the car and turned toward her. “I would say that someone left you a very strong message.”

      She returned his gaze, her eyes dry. “I think I got that. It looks like every Friday is the thirteenth to me.”

      “Do you have any idea who might have done this? A former boyfriend, a jealous female?”

      “I have no former boyfriend and if anyone is jealous of me, that’s news to me. “

      He took her hand and she saw a flash of the Greg with whom she’d spent the evening. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this.”

      She looked down at their clasped hands. “Me, too. It really is a bit much. Everything I own is destroyed as though a fire had swept through. Nothing is salvageable. The only clothes I have at the moment are what I’m wearing.”

      “I know. We’ll deal with that a little later.”

      A couple of cruisers arrived and Greg got out of his car. He walked over and spoke to the driver of one of them. Two others got out of the second car and joined him. She recognized one of them whom she’d seen last week investigating the murder.

      She shivered. What if— No, she didn’t want to go there.

      After several minutes the two men and a woman followed Greg back into the apartment building.

      How did whoever had done this know she’d be gone this evening? Was she being watched? She glanced around the parking lot and quickly locked the doors.

      Greg returned shortly and she unobtrusively unlocked the doors.

      He got into the car and started the engine. Once out of the parking lot he headed away from the university area.

      “Where are we going?”

      “I’m taking you home with me,” he said softly. “You’ll be safe there, I promise you that. You can use my other bedroom until we get all of this settled.”

      She had no intention of arguing with him. “There is one thing,” she finally said.

      “Yes?”

      “I need to stop at a store and get a few things.”

      “We can do that.” He changed lanes and signaled to turn left. After a few miles, he turned into the parking lot of a large store that stayed open late.

      There were few cars around. Not too many shoppers at close to midnight on a Friday night.

      Greg parked across from the entrance and stopped.

      “Thank you. I won’t be long.”

      “Doesn’t matter. I’m coming with you.”

      “Oh, that isn’t—”

      “Yes, it is. We’re going to be joined at the hip until this thing is put to rest.”

      “You think it has something to do with the murder,” she stated, suddenly feeling exhausted.

      “That’s one of the theories I’m working on. We hope to find some prints in that mess. If not, we’ll continue to follow other leads. I don’t want to take any chances where you’re concerned. The men you saw could very well believe that you saw them and reported it.”

      “So they’ve been watching me?”

      He nodded. “Has anything unusual happened to you this week? Besides your apartment being destroyed, I mean.”

      “Well, I don’t know how unusual it is, but I’ve gotten several hang-up calls. Probably wrong numbers.”

      “Or checking if you’re home.”

      She stared at him in surprise. “I suppose.”

      “My guess is that they’re trying to scare you.”

      “They have definitely done that.”

      He groaned. “And I’ve made it worse by showing an interest in you. They think you’re giving me additional information.”

      “That’s a logical assumption.”

      “But we both know that isn’t the reason I asked you out.”

      She bit her bottom lip. She refused to cry in front of him, but it was tough because he was being nice to her. It had been easier to hide her emotions when he was in his cop mode.

      “Let’s go shopping,” he said, opening his door. She got out and met him in front of his car.

      “From


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