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

than the police, someone who has your back, should know what you saw, what you went through. I also want to know who or what type of people we’re dealing with. We don’t know if they’re random thugs. Or if they are a part of organized crime or a gang. I trust law enforcement to a point. I know they are going to try and get these guys, but I need to know everything. I need to know if there’s a chance that the perps, whoever they are, will come after you.”

He spoke with such passion and determination. The conviction behind each word warmed her heart, and deep down, she knew Trace was a man she could count on.

His dark, assessing eyes searched hers, and before Connie knew it, tears trailed down her cheeks. She quickly swiped them away, but they fell faster. Harder. She couldn’t keep up with them.

“This is ridiculous. I can’t seem to stop crying. I never cry.”

“Aww, sweetheart. It’s not my intent to upset you,” Trace said and pulled her into his arms.

It didn’t matter that the center console was cutting into her side; she needed this hug. Needed to be held close. The moment between them wasn’t sexually charged, like usual. Right now, he wasn’t the man she secretly liked more than she cared to admit. No, this was her coworker offering her comfort. Her friend. Nothing else.

“I’ve never been so scared in all of my life,” she mumbled against Trace’s shoulder before pulling away.

He opened the center console, pulled out a travel-size pack of tissue and handed it to her. “I hate it that you went through that, but I need to know what transpired when they caught Richard moving.”

“I actually screamed. I hurried and turned away, hoping they wouldn’t come over to where I was lying. Then it sounded like the guy and Richard might’ve been wrestling or something. I’m not totally sure. I didn’t see them. I could only hear the scuffle. Seconds later, there were gunshots. I knew immediately, because it sounded like the time Trinity took me to the gun range to teach me how to shoot. She told me to keep the ear protection on at all times, but I had taken them off once because—”

“Connie,” Trace said, pulling her from her ramblings.

“Sorry. I guess I’m just... Anyway, one of them shot him. People were whimpering and crying, and I just lay there. I was praying that I wouldn’t be next and I—I didn’t do anything to stop them or to help Richard.”

“There was nothing you could’ve done for Richard, especially at that point. If you had tried, you could’ve gotten yourself killed and possibly everyone else, too. You did the right thing staying put. That way, you could tell the authorities everything you saw and heard.”

Connie knew he was right, but that didn’t stop the guilt from eating at her. Maybe she could’ve distracted them. Maybe she could’ve screamed or acted out so that they would’ve left Richard alone. She just wished she could’ve, or would’ve, done something.

“They didn’t have to shoot him. They could’ve just roughed him up. Not that that would’ve been any better, but at least he wouldn’t be fighting for his life. At least his family wouldn’t be worrying about whether he’s going to live or die.”

Trace nodded, still studying her. Connie wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but the intensity of his stare was a little unnerving.

She swallowed and glanced away. “I heard the robbers run by me. I thought they were gone, but one had stopped near the exit.” The tightness in her chest squeezed with each word as the scene replayed in her mind. “He started lifting the black mask up from his neck. That’s when I saw part of his tattoo.”

“What type of tattoo?”

Connie shrugged. “Just an elaborate-looking tattoo. It didn’t look like the tribal one you have,” she said, heat rushing to her face.

She had seen his impressive body art on the night they’d spent together. It was located on the right side of his chest and torso, and a portion of it wrapped around his shoulder and upper bicep. No one would ever know he had a tattoo unless he went shirtless.

“I might be able to get my hands on a copy of the sketch,” Trace said, more to himself than to her. He pulled his cell phone from his front pants pocket and typed something.

Connie wasn’t sure how he planned to get a copy, but she had learned early on that Trace was resourceful, and she knew he had connections.

“Tell me what else you remember,” Trace said, giving her his full attention again.

“I only saw a small portion of the tat. I’m not even sure the description I gave the cops will help.” Connie stopped and took a breath. Then her mind took her back to the moment when she and the robber made eye contact. “He stopped.”

“Who stopped? The robber?”

She nodded. “He stopped lifting the mask. Turned. Then his gaze met mine. His eyes were an unusual gray. Almost silverish.” Connie debated whether or not to tell him this next part, something that had been nagging her since leaving the bank. “There’s a part I didn’t tell the cops. Mainly because I didn’t want them to think that I was in any way part of the heist, but the man’s eyes seemed...familiar. Like maybe I’d seen them before. I know it sounds crazy, especially since I don’t know anyone with gray eyes, but it was a feeling.”

Trace huffed out a loud breath and ran his hand over his mouth and down his chin. “Damn,” he mumbled and sat back in his seat. “And he saw you.”

“It was only a second, if that long. Like I said, everything happened so, so fast, and I’m sure I’ve never seen him before.”

“But, sweetheart, he saw you. I don’t care if it was one second or two. It was a second too long. For all we know,