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

his car, his heart lighter. Carly needed him, which made his heart sing. Meanwhile, he could get the ball rolling with Chicago PD.

He called his buddy Charlie again, detailing what he’d seen. “But I want Carly to see it before you send anyone to check it out. She’ll be home sometime around three.”

“Sounds good. We’ll probably ask the FBI to help on this one. They can probably trace it. Though I might just stop by and take a look at it myself tonight, along with whatever agent the Bureau assigns. I won’t have an ETA until I speak with them, but I’ll let you know.”

“I’ll be there tonight with Carly for a bit,” Micha said. “Keep me posted.”

* * *

More shaken than she’d let on when talking to Micha, Carly struggled to get through the rest of her shift. With her focus off, she found herself double-checking everything she did. She felt so violated. Not only had a stranger been in her private backyard, but he had attached a video camera to her window. She supposed she should consider herself lucky that he hadn’t broken in, but right now she didn’t feel that way.

Finally, the hands on the huge wall clock at the nurses’ station inched toward two-thirty. Hugely relieved as she completed the last of her charts and handed them off to the nurse coming on, Carly grabbed her purse and headed outside.

As usual, she kept a keen eye on her surroundings, but she was so flustered by the idea of having a video camera watching her every move that she couldn’t reach inside and access that gut instinct or sixth sense.

Pulling up into her drive, she could have cried with relief as she caught sight of Micha sitting on her front porch stoop. He stood as soon as she opened her car door, meeting her halfway and wrapping his muscular arms around her. She held on tight, breathing in his familiar scent, wondering again how she’d made it two entire years without him.

That thought right there had her stepping back, out of his reassuring embrace. For a second, she couldn’t meet his gaze as she struggled to gather herself back into a cohesive whole instead of scattered pieces. Her defenses had crumbled, however briefly. She’d managed to build them back up, but until then, she’d need to be careful.

“Show me the camera,” she ordered.

“Sure. Let’s go around back. That way whoever is monitoring it won’t know we’ve seen it. My friend Charlie and someone from the FBI will be here shortly.”

Surprised, she glanced at him. “That’s fast.”

His grin made her melt, damn it. “It helps when you have connections. Come on.”

She followed him around the side of her house and threw open the gate. “Maybe I should get a lock for this,” she said, closing it behind her.

“Definitely,” Micha agreed, glancing back over his shoulder at her. He stopped at her kitchen window, pointing at a tiny metal square situated in the bottom right corner of the window. “That’s it. I’m thinking they positioned it there since you leave the bottom of your blinds up a few inches for your plants.”

Staring at the miniscule camera, she swallowed hard, willing away a flash of anger. “It’s kind of interesting, though. If I moved one of the plants, it would totally block their view. I guess they were counting on everything staying where it is.”

“True.” He hesitated. “I think if you’d moved a plant, they’d have sent someone out to move the camera.”

Frustrated, she turned to face him. “I don’t understand. Why would someone do this? My life isn’t that interesting, I promise you. And if they’re hoping to see me naked, I’d think they’d have tried my bedroom rather than the kitchen.”

“If you have a stalker—” he began, interrupted by a noise out front.

“Hello?” a male voice called. “Chicago PD and FBI.”

“We’re back here,” Micha replied. A moment later, two men came around the side of the house. They both were dressed casually, though one wore a police badge on his belt and the other had on a jacket with FBI emblazoned across the back.

“Hi,” the shorter man said, offering Carly a handshake. “I’m Detective Charlie Crenshaw with Chicago PD.” He glanced at Micha and grinned. “And this here’s Special Agent Brad Howard with the FBI.”

After handshakes were exchanged all around, Brad asked to see the camera. Micha pointed it out and the two men talked quietly while they studied it.

Inside, Bridget barked several times. Carly jumped, feeling like the worst dog parent ever. “Oh. Excuse me. I need to let my dog out.”

She went around to the front door, not wanting to take a chance of Bridget bolting out the back if she went in that way.

Letting herself into her house, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Walking down the hallway to her kitchen, she carefully kept her gaze away from the window and the camera, though it seriously creeped her out that someone might be watching her right this very instant.

Catching sight of Carly, Bridget jumped to her feet, wiggling her entire body in joy. The sight of this made Carly laugh and forget momentarily about the camera. “Hey, baby girl,” Carly crooned, climbing over the baby gate and crouching on the floor. Bridget rushed over, licking and wagging her tail and contorting her little black body in all kinds of expressive and happy moves.

After a moment or two of cuddling, Carly stood, grabbed a leash and clipped it to Bridget’s collar. “Ready to go outside and go potty?” she asked, grinning to herself at the way she talked to her dog as if she were human and understood every word.

Bridget barked, just once, almost as if responding “Yes!”

Still smiling, Carly led her to the back door. She was curious to see Bridget’s reaction to the three men in the backyard.

As soon as they stepped outside, Bridget froze. She let out a low woof, the hair rising on her back.

“It’s okay,” Carly said, petting