Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

kingpin’s identity is one thing, a break for us. He messed up, but he’ll know that he did. He’ll assume there’s a good chance we’re on to him. That’ll only drive him further underground, make him more determined to strike out and prove his power.” Melissa looked at her clasped hands, then at her brother. “Let me ask you something, Stanton. If Dominique was a male reporter, would you expect her to ease off?”

Dominique remembered why she and Melissa had become easy friends in the first place. They were both driven women who knew how to do whatever it took to get a job done. And Melissa never balked at dishing out guff to her brother, which frankly delighted Dominique.

“If I were assigned to protect him, yes, I’d ask him to stop whatever was causing the greatest risk.” Stanton’s quick reply was expected, but Dominique heard the slight tone of defensiveness and looked at him. He was staring at his sister, his jaw stubbornly set.

Melissa’s soft smirk revealed that she didn’t believe her brother’s lame reply, either.

“He’s right, Melissa. It’s his job to keep me alive, so of course he had to try to convince me to stop agitating Jimenez. Which of course I’m not going to do. But Stanton’s actually listened to me pore over the story details I have so far, helped me sift through them.” Dominique’s unexpected defense of Stanton came from somewhere deep inside. For some reason, she wanted Stanton to know that she appreciated his concern not just for her, but for her story, as well.

“Did he?” Melissa’s brow arched but she didn’t say anything further as she stood and nodded at them. “I can see Officer Colton headed this way. Give Jillian your report, and then you’re free to go. Go ahead and press forward with your interviews, Dominique, but stop back in here after each one if at all possible. I don’t want to risk passing information over cell phone lines that can be intercepted by the cartel. We’ll combine your information with ours. Please, both of you, be extra careful. This is the most dangerous criminal we’ve seen in Grave Gulch for a long time. Maybe ever.”

As they left the chief’s office, Dominique allowed the gravity of Melissa’s assessment to settle over her. So far she’d lost two battles: finding the truth about Charlie, and having to spend each waking second next to the one man she’d ever loved. And not let him back inside her heart.

Dangerous times, indeed.

CHAPTER 8

“You’ll let me do the talking, right?” Dominique waited to get out of the car after he’d turned the engine off. They sat on a residential street on the outskirts of Grave Gulch, in front of the house where the family of another one of Randall Bowe’s wrongly imprisoned suspects lived.

“Of course. I’m nothing more than your shadow.” Unless circumstances dictated otherwise, but he wasn’t going into it again with her.

“Okay. Thanks again for getting my clothes.” She’d changed into a caramel turtleneck and dressy dark jeans. He noticed that she kept the sneakers instead of fancier shoes and knew that her feet were giving her more trouble than she admitted. Just as the bruises on her throat were. They’d appeared dark and angry against her skin when he glimpsed them this morning in his parents’ kitchen. She tugged at the high collar. “I thought it’d be best to not scare my interview subject.”

He smiled. “Good call.”

They walked up the narrow walkway that split the tiny front yard and climbed steep concrete steps to a stoop where Dominique rang the doorbell. It buzzed inside, immediately followed by the ferocious barking of several dogs.

“Stand back.” He tugged on her wrist and didn’t stop until she was even with him in the middle of the steps.

“I love dogs.” She grumbled under her breath just as the door opened. A petite young woman with bright fuchsia hair that matched her fuzzy sweater greeted them. Two large rottweilers sat on either side of her, snarls matching their laser-focused eyes.

“I’m Dominique de la Vega from the Grave Gulch Gazette. I’m here to see Beverly Lubinski.”

“I know. We’re waiting for you. Are you afraid of dogs?” The girl moved, motioned to the animals.

“Not at—”

“It’s best if the dogs are restrained for the duration of the interview.” Stanton’s statement immediately drew Dominique’s wrath-of-the-goddess glance but her aggravation was the least of his worries. He couldn’t focus on keeping her safe with two burly canine bodyguards in the same room. Dogs were great; he wished he had time in his life to have one. But he’d learned early on in the security business to always eliminate whatever distractions possible.

“Okay, no problem.” The girl took each dog by its spiked collar. “Come on, boys. To your crates. Mom! That reporter is here.” They watched through the screen door as she disappeared into the house with the “boys,” until an older woman with short, spiky silver hair appeared in the threshold.

“Dominique?”

“Yes. You must be Beverly?”

“I am. Sorry about that. Our boys are sweet but loud. Come on in.”

Stanton was tempted to enter first, to protect Dominique in case the “boys” escaped their crates, but then she’d be vulnerable to any danger from the street. He kept his hand on the small of her back, let her know he was right there.

They settled in a shabby but clean living room. The younger woman returned and sat next to her mother and held her hand. Stanton noticed their matching dragonfly tattoos on the top of each hand.

“I’ll get right to the point, Beverly, and...”

“Trina. I’m the daughter. Daniel Lubinski is my father and he’s in jail because of a scumbag cop at GGPD.”

“That’s enough, Trina.” Beverly shot them both an apologetic glance. “She has every right to be angry and she’s not wrong about the police department, but I don’t like her being so disrespectful to law enforcement.”

Stanton clenched his teeth and struggled to stay silent. It wasn’t his place to interject. He wanted