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Love Inspired Suspense December 2013 Bundle: Christmas Cover-UpForce of NatureYuletide JeopardyWilderness Peril

Page 77

by Lynette Eason


  Wesley shrugged. “Whatever I could find. Jewelry, cash, whatever.”

  Katie snapped his picture with her iPhone and emailed it directly to her office with instructions to find out everything possible about this man. “So this was just a random thing? You picked my house out of all the ones in this subdivision?”

  “Yeah, I guess. It looked like an easy hit.” He shook his head and muttered, “Didn’t know you were a cop.”

  Jordan saw skepticism skitter across Katie’s face and knew she wasn’t buying the guy’s story. Jordan hauled the man to his feet. “Come on, you can tell the rest of this sad tale downtown.”

  As he stood, Wesley’s gaze landed on Katie’s briefcase sitting on the front porch. “Your laptop in there?”

  She frowned. “It is. Why?”

  “Nothing.”

  Jordan led Wesley to a waiting police cruiser. Jordan recognized Chris Jiles as one of the officers. Chris locked his hand around Wray’s upper arm and looked at Katie. “You all right?”

  “Never better.”

  “Right.” He helped Jordan get Mr. Wray secured in the back of the cruiser. She walked over and shook hands with Chris. “I’ll be down to the station shortly to fill out a report. Stick him in one of the interrogation rooms and let him sit for a bit.”

  “Will do. You need a crime scene unit?”

  “Why? We caught him red-handed and he confessed. Let’s not waste lab dollars on a simple B & E.”

  He shrugged. “Your call.”

  Chris drove off with his prisoner, followed by the other officers who’d shown up. Katie turned to Jordan.

  Dressed in pressed khaki pants and a blue button-up shirt, she had her straight blond hair pulled back in a ponytail with a plain band. Her light brown eyes still glinted steel. A faint dusting of freckles and no makeup would make a lot of women look plain. Katie, however, was a natural beauty.

  He ignored the zing of attraction he always seemed to get around her and followed her up the front porch steps.

  Romance, attraction, whatever it was he felt when he spent time with her was not an option. Katie Randall had killed his brother—at least in his parents’ eyes—and while he’d work with her on this case, getting personal was out of the question. And besides, she’d gone out her way to avoid him ever since she’d learned he would be the one handling the case.

  They stepped back inside and the destruction greeted them.

  Even though she’d already seen it, he heard her suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Looks like you’re going to have your hands full cleaning this up.”

  She sighed. “Looks like. Fifteen days until Christmas and this. Lovely. Just what I wanted to come home to.” She grimaced. “Okay, I’ll stop whining now. Sorry.”

  He gave a short laugh. “I’ll help.”

  Really? And why was he offering to spend more time with her than necessary? She lifted a brow. “I’ll probably call a cleaning crew, but thanks.”

  Relieved—yet strangely disappointed—he nodded and looked around. “Mariah’s not here, obviously.”

  “No.” She walked into the kitchen and looked out the window into the garage. “Her car’s not here. She either stayed late at work or stopped somewhere on her way home.”

  Jordan tilted his head toward the back of the house. “Your office is trashed, too.”

  Katie spun on her heel and walked to her office. Trashed was a kind word. “He asked about my laptop. Do you find that strange?”

  “Yes. A bit.”

  Katie walked to Mariah’s room. Mariah had gone crazy with Christmas decorations. Decorations that were still in their place, none broken, none touched. Jordan followed. She said, “But he didn’t touch anything in here.”

  “Maybe he just didn’t have time to get to it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Or he was just interested in your stuff and not hers.”

  “But why? And why ask about my laptop?”

  “I think we’ll have to get Mr. Wray to answer those questions.”

  *

  Katie rubbed her head, hoping the action would push away the building headache. “I guess this means our meeting is on hold.”

  “Again.”

  Katie felt a flush of guilt stain her cheeks. It was true. She’d been putting him off, delaying their getting together. Every time she was around him, she expected him to bring up his brother. And her part in the man’s death. Her avoidance of Jordan was unusual. Normally if she needed to address something unpleasant, she did it and got it over with. Not so with this man. “It’s not like I planned this.”

  “No, but you’ve been avoiding meeting with me. You’re the one who came to us, remember? I’ve been working this case for the past two weeks. I need you to be available to answer questions when they come up. By putting me off, you’re making it exceedingly difficult for me to do my job.” He studied her. “And after you went to all that trouble to convince your lieutenant to grant us access to files and everything related to Lucy’s case.”

  Katie grimaced at the memory of going to her lieutenant and unashamedly begging him to allow them to do this. “I know. I know,” she groaned. “He really didn’t want to, but he likes me. Although he did warn me that if this came back to bite him, I’d be checking parking meters until I retired.” She rubbed her eyes. “It’ll help that you’re back with the FBI. He’s not like some who get defensive about territory. He welcomes any help he can get.”

  A faint smile crossed his face, then faded. “Is your reluctance because of Neil?”

  Katie stared at him, taken aback by his bluntness. Then a small kernel of anger formed in her belly. She curled her fingers into fists then had to make a concentrated effort to relax. It wasn’t his fault she didn’t want to talk to him. Not totally, anyway. “Yes, it’s partly because of Neil. I didn’t really expect Erica to give this case to you.” Erica James, the director of Finding the Lost, was one of Katie’s closest friends. “She knows what happened with Neil and—and I just—” She broke off and swallowed hard. “Although I suppose it makes the most sense with your FBI connections.” She frowned. “I can drive.”

  “That’s all right, I don’t mind. Where will you and Mariah stay until you get this cleaned up?”

  “Good question.” Relieved not to talk about his brother just yet, Katie pulled her phone out and started to dial Mariah’s number when she heard a car pull into the drive. She walked out onto the front porch to see her roommate climb from her vehicle.

  Mariah spotted Jordan and waved. “Hey, you two, what’s going on?” Jordan and Mariah had met once when Jordan had come by to pick up information regarding her sister’s kidnapping.

  “We had a breakin,” Katie said.

  Mariah’s pretty green eyes went wide. “A breakin? Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” Katie assured her, then explained what had happened. “But it’s pretty bad inside. I think we need to find another place to stay until a cleaning crew can come out here.” She paused. “Although your room looks fine. He didn’t get that far.”

  Jordan said, “He just raced out the French doors. But your stuff didn’t look touched.”

  Mariah bit her lip and tucked a stray hunk of chocolate-brown hair behind her ear. “You think he’ll come back?”

  “No, we caught him. But the kitchen and den area aren’t livable right now. He slashed the cushions and—”

  Mariah rushed past her and into the house. Her outraged cry made Katie grimace. Her roommate raced to Katie’s bedroom, then the office and finally her own bedroom. Tears stood in her friend’s eyes. “I don’t want to stay here. And you can’t. He slashed up your mattress.”

  “I know.”

  Mariah took a deep breath. “We’ll stay with Grandma Jean. She has that big ol’ house with plenty of room. She’d love it if we crashed there for a few days.”

  Katie smiled as she thought of the spry eighty-year-old woman who still lived life to the fullest. “All right, you ask her. I’ve got
to get down to the station and question our intruder.”

  Mariah shuddered. “I can’t believe someone would break into a cop’s house.”

  Katie shrugged. “I don’t think he knew I was a cop.” She frowned. “I can’t help thinking this isn’t a random breakin.”

  Mariah fished in her large shoulder bag and produced her phone. “I’ll throw some things in a bag and call Grandma Jean and tell her we’re coming.”

  Katie looked at Jordan. “Guess I’ll do the same, then we can go. I’ll take my car and you can ride with me if you want. Mariah’s grandmother only lives about a mile from here, so I can bring you back here to get your car before I go over there for the night.”

  “That sounds good.”

  Katie smiled then walked into her destroyed bedroom. The smile slipped away and anger swept over her, hot and swift even as she gave thanks that Mariah hadn’t been here when the intruder broke in. She grabbed an overnight bag and threw some items in it, including work clothes for the next day. She then examined every inch of her bedroom even though she knew Wray hadn’t taken anything. Her jewelry box lay open, but nothing was missing.

  A shudder of revulsion went through her. She dealt with criminals every day. But she’d never had one in her house. Her bedroom. It made her skin crawl.

  Katie spun toward the door, anxious to get out of the room, and ran into Mariah coming from her bedroom. Her friend said, “We’re all set. Grandma Jean’s excited to have company tonight.”

  “I’ll call someone to come clean this up, and we’ll put better locks on the doors.” She paused. “And maybe an alarm system.”

  “All right. I’ll see you later tonight, then.”

  Katie nodded and joined Jordan, who waited patiently in the den. “I’m ready.”

  He followed her outside and stopped at her vehicle. She opened her door and looked at him. He placed a hand over hers. The heat of his palm seeped through the back of her hand, warming her. “What is it?” When he hesitated, she took a deep breath. His spicy cologne filled the air. Katie told herself she had to ignore the fact that she found him attractive and focus on doing what they needed to do so they could part company. “Jordan?”

  He said, “I know my parents blame you for Neil’s death, but I didn’t realize—”

  She tensed. “What?”

  “You blame yourself for my brother’s death, too, don’t you?”

  Copyright © 2013 by Lynette Eason

  ISBN-13: 9781460323441

  WILDERNESS PERIL

  Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Goddard

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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  ISBN: 978-1-4603-2697-8

  Copyright © 2013 Harlequin Books S.A.

  The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  Christmas Cover-Up

  Copyright © 2013 by Lynette Eason

  Force of Nature

  Copyright © 2013 by Dana Mentink

  Yuletide Jeopardy

  Copyright © 2013 by Sandra Robbins

  Wilderness Peril

  Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Goddard

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com

 

 

 


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