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

just bold, but dangerous. The sheriff’s office had several open cases—the recent death of Tom Dolan, the disappearance of the leader of the motorcycle club, Christopher Booth, missing for months, and finally, whoever had helped Darcy Owens at the White Winds Resort.

Julia moved to her kitchen. Piles of papers and stacks of files covered the table. There was also a laptop, with the screen up.

“Someone’s been on my computer.”

“Are you sure?” Marcus asked.

“My mother called, ending a late-night work session. Maybe I was distracted by the call and simply walked away.” Julia shook her head. “No, I never leave anything undone.”

“Deputy Cooper’s on his way,” Luis said. “He’ll dust it for prints.”

“You think whoever’s watching me has anything to do with Tom Dolan’s death?”

“I’m worried about more than their involvement with the death,” said Luis. “I’m worried that someone’s been stalking you, and honestly, we have to consider that the killer knows your every move.”

Luis watched the color drain from Julia’s face. He cursed himself for not having tempered his words. “I’m sorry,” he said, his chest tight with regret. “I shouldn’t have just blurted out what was on my mind. I mean, we really don’t have any proof.”

Julia waved away his apology. “You haven’t said anything that I haven’t thought already.” She placed a hand on the back of her head. “It’s this damn bruise.”

“You hurt your head?” True, Julia had mentioned a few minor injuries when they spoke on the phone. Damn it. Luis should’ve asked about her physical well-being first. “If you have a head injury, you need to get checked out. It could be a concussion.”

“I’ll be fine—” she began.

“Unless you aren’t,” Marcus interrupted.

Outside, three vehicles arrived at once. Luis glanced out of the window. It was Wyatt’s pickup truck, Liam’s silver car and Deputy Cooper’s police cruiser. “Looks like the whole crew’s here. Let them take care of going through your house for any evidence. I’ll take you to the hospital. You need to see Doc Lambert.”

Julia glared at Luis. “Like I said—” her jaw was tight “—I’m fine.”

“I played football in high school and for two years of community college. Concussions are no joke. I’ve seen people suffer from headaches for years. Without treatment, sensitivity to light could be severe and long-lasting...”

“I still have to work all day. I need to shower. Eat...”

“Grab your gear. You can get ready at my house and I’ll take you to Sally’s for breakfast—my treat.”

Julia shook her head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

Luis smiled. “You know me too well.”

There was a knock on the front door. Marcus opened it, and the team—Wyatt, Liam and Travis—entered Julia’s house. “Everyone’s here,” said Marcus. “There’s nothing more for you to do, Julia. I’m not your boss anymore, so I can’t order you to do anything, but you won’t help anyone if you’re sidelined.”

Julia lifted her hands in surrender. “Fine. Fine. I know when I’m outnumbered. Give me a minute to pack my bag.” As she vanished, Luis filled in the team.

Marcus picked up the story, and added, “She thinks they touched her computer.”

“And the dresser in her bedroom,” said Luis.

“Description?” Liam removed a tablet computer from a leather backpack slung over one shoulder. He opened a screen and began taking notes.

“Well,” said Luis, “Julia noted a resemblance to Darcy Owens.”

“Just like the woman who was with Tom Dolan in the security video from the inn,” said Wyatt.

“Exactly,” said Liam. Turning his attention back to the tablet computer, he continued to take notes. The tablet pinged with an incoming message. Liam cursed.

“What is it?” Julia asked. Standing at the end of the short hallway, she was holding a black gym bag. She’d changed out of Luis’s shirt. She now had on her uniform—khaki pants, a dark brown shirt and a tin star. It fit her nicely.

“The newspaper published an article about Martinez,” said Liam. He scanned the computer screen. “And the sheriff is quoted with a ‘no comment.’ You spoke to the press about Luis. What the hell, Julia?”

“That wasn’t exactly a quote.” Julia stepped toward Liam, her nostrils flaring. “The editor ambushed me on my run with a bunch of questions. I didn’t comment on anything. In fact, I knocked the phone from his hand and that’s why I cut my run short. I wanted to get home and call Luis. But since there was a person in my bathroom who knocked me on my ass, I kinda got sidetracked.”

“Okay, you two.” Luis stood between Liam and Julia. “We’re all on the same team. One story in a local paper isn’t anything to worry about,” Luis continued, though his chest was tight with concern. RMJ operated in the shadows. In order to do his job, the agency—and the operatives who worked for it—needed anonymity and secrecy. If his name ended up in the press, there’d be no way forward. “I’m still taking Julia to be checked out.” He slapped Liam’s chest with the back of his hand. “For a head injury, which might’ve affected her short-term memory or even temporary judgment.”

“Point taken,” Liam grumbled. “Sorry ’bout what I said, Julia.”

“Ain’t nothing but a thing. Don’t worry.”

“Come on.” Luis took Julia’s bag. “Let’s go.”

From inside Julia’s house, Luis used the fob to start the engine and unlock the doors to his SUV. Without another word, Julia and Luis left her house and walked toward the waiting vehicle. As he slipped into the driver’s seat and maneuvered the large vehicle on the small street, Luis couldn’t help but wonder—what would happen if his name became public? What would he do if he didn’t have RMJ?

* * *

At the hospital, Julia was taken into an exam room almost immediately. Doc Lambert had yet to arrive, but Julia was in the capable hands of a nurse practitioner. With nothing but time, Luis found a seat in the empty waiting room and opened the newspaper’s app. The headline was brutal. Disgraced Denver Cop Involved in Mysterious Death.

And it got worse.

The story was accompanied by two