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

a similar set of steps where he lived, only his were at the front of the building.

“Julia,” he yelled. “You up there? It’s me, Luis.”

Sure, yelling into the darkness was not a stealthy move. But Julia had been twitchy and easily upset of late, so it wouldn’t do to sneak up on her.

“I’m here,” she called back. “Come up. Check out what I found.”

Luis ascended the stairs, his injured ankle throbbing with each step. He came into an apartment that was a mirror image of his own.

In the dim light, his eye was drawn to a far wall, covered in photographs. Or, more precisely, photographs of Julia. “What in the hell?”

“Hell is about right,” said Julia. She was standing by the window, surrounded by soft light. Her golden hair fell loose around her shoulders and for a single moment, Luis recalled the scent of her skin, the feel of her as he held her in his arms, and she came in the darkness.

Turning away, he focused on the wall. There was a picture of Julia standing on the sidewalk, aviator sunglasses in hand. He pulled down the picture.

“What do you think happened? Somebody broke into this place and has been taking pictures of you for the past twenty-four hours?”

Julia pointed to a laptop and printer in the corner. “He must download them to the computer and then print them off himself, too.”

Luis said, “Katarina’s on her way. If anyone can get some information off the computer, it’s her.”

Julia nodded. “We need to get fingerprints, too. I’ll call Deputy Cooper to dust the room.”

Luis paused. Julia was silent—uncharacteristically so. “What aren’t you telling me? What’s wrong?”

“Look at all these pictures.” She gestured to the wall. “This guy has been watching me all day. But it’s more than that. He was watching me this evening. He was watching us.” She paused. “On the street.”

Sure, there were a lot of questions to be answered, but for Luis—personally, at least—Julia had just asked the most important question of all. How could he protect Julia? Especially since the killer seemed to be nothing more than a shadow.

CHAPTER 16

Peter Knowles spent the day writing about what had happened to Tom Dolan over the weekend. True, he didn’t have the cooperation of the local sheriff, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a story to print.

He jiggled the mouse of the laptop and checked the time—10:15 p.m. With a sigh, he powered down his computer, happy to have something to include in the midweek edition of the Gazette.

The outside door rattled, as if someone had put a key in the lock. Peter stood.

“Hello?” he called out. Certain it was a reporter working late, he continued, “I hope you have something for Wednesday’s paper. Right now, we only have one story.” He was old school and still thought of all editions being committed to paper. Correcting his mistake, he said, “Or to post.”

Nothing.

He grabbed the jacket from the back of his chair. The door jiggled again, harder this time.

Peter froze, gooseflesh covering his arms. He kept a baseball bat under his desk, and he reached for it now. Bat in one hand, he entered the newsroom. It was empty. Whoever had been trying to get into the newsroom was unquestionably gone. He set the bat in the corner and returned to his office.

The number of emails had increased by one, which was nothing new. Yet, the reference line got his attention.

Made you look.

Had the person rattling the door also sent the email?

Several photos were embedded in the email. Peter blinked, refocused and looked again. Yep. His eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him. Someone had delivered a bunch of photographs. The story the pictures told was easy to follow. The sheriff, Julia McCloud, was busy with her friend, Luis...well, getting busy. And on an abandoned street, no less.

Certainly, the pictures were, umm, entertaining—tantalizing, really. The question was, why would someone feel they were newsworthy enough to photograph in the first place, let alone send to him in an email?

* * *

Julia had given several orders and they’d been followed within minutes. First, she’d called Travis Cooper, the deputy on duty, and asked him to bring a fingerprint kit and a set of spotlights. He’d done both. The dark apartment was now ablaze with light and the deputy was diligently swiping surfaces with a brush and fine, black powder, trying to find a set of fingerprints.

Katarina arrived only a few minutes after the deputy. Walking into the room, she spied the wall full of pictures and stopped short.

“Oh, my,” she said. “That’s upsetting.”

“And then some,” said Luis. Julia couldn’t help but notice that his jaw was tense.

Katarina turned from the wall and gazed at Julia. A communications expert, the other woman was in her fifties and the unofficial den mother of Rocky Mountain Justice. Even though Julia was technically no longer part of the team, Kat still saw her as part of the RMJ family. “You said you found a computer?”

The deputy had the laptop open and was swirling fingerprint dust on the keyboard. “I’ll be done in just a minute,” he said.

“Did you find any physical evidence on the machine?” Luis asked.

“That’s the weird thing,” said the deputy with a shake of his head. “There aren’t any prints on the computer. What’s worse, there’s not prints on the food wrappers or soda cans.” All the debris had been lined up on the counter in the adjoining kitchen. Every piece was covered with black dust.

“Which means that whoever it is was careful about not being identified,” said Luis.

“That’s what I’d assume,” said Travis.

“What about in the rest of the apartment?” Julia asked. “Have you found any complete fingerprints, or any other physical evidence? Hair? Fibers?”

“I’ve found loads of prints all over the place,” he said.

With a sigh, Julia folded her arms. She knew it’d take a while to get answers, it was just that she didn’t like the idea of waiting.

“The good news is, I’m done with this.” He