her blinker, she pulled down the quiet street lined with little square houses. It wasn’t the best neighborhood, but it was one she could afford. She parked in the driveway, turned off the engine and climbed out of the Bronco.
Anxiety bubbled inside of her. The early twilight air held a trace of humidity, but it wasn’t cold. Somewhere nearby a dog barked, probably at the end of a chain or shut up behind a backyard fence. The smell of a barbecue hung in the air. All was well. There was no visible cause for her feelings.
Mick pulled into the driveway and got out of his car. She studied him in the glow of the porch light as he moved toward her, like the hero in a vivid dream. Maybe he was the source of her unsettled emotions.
“If you grab a bag, I’ll take you to your friend’s house. I want to make sure you’re not followed.”
“You don’t have to coddle me.” She took the steps slowly. “I’m not helpless.”
“I’m painfully aware of that, but you are the focus of my investigation and it got personal today.” He was right behind her.
Turning on him, she prepared to reason herself into her own bed, but his features were hardened with determination.
“Don’t even, Kate. Never mind that you can take care of yourself. I need to get some sleep tonight and if that means you stay somewhere safe, then so be it. Would you rather I slept on your couch?”
A twinkle of mischief sparkled in his green eyes and she tensed as anticipation hatched in her mind and flowed into her bloodstream. “I’ll get my bag.” A night with Officer Jacoby a short distance away was more than she wanted to deal with right now.
She pushed her key into the lock. The door gave against the pressure and creaked open.
“Mick…” Terror sizzled through her veins.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“The door’s been jimmied.” The sound of gunmetal against leather alarmed her, as he slid his pistol from its holster.
Was someone inside? Waiting?
Mick reached for Kate and pulled her behind him, taking her place on the step above. He stayed to the left and pushed the door all the way open.
In the back of the house he saw movement. For a brief second a human silhouette appeared in the hall and disappeared into another room.
“New Orleans police. Come out with your hands up.” He reached inside and flipped the living-room light on.
The once-cozy place was trashed. The sofa and chairs had been sliced to ribbons. Pictures lay on the floor with the glass smashed out. Chaos reigned.
“Go to my car.” The house was as still as death, but he’d seen the room the suspect was hiding in. “Lock the doors and stay down.”
“Okay.” She shuffled off the steps behind him and a measure of relief invaded his body. The perpetrator would have to go through him first.
“Come out. No one has to get hurt.” Mick crept into the entryway and scanned the dining room and kitchen. All clear.
Footsteps echoed on the other side of the kitchen wall, then the distinct snap of a window latch clicked.
He hugged the wall. Gun ready. His heart pounded in his ears as he slipped down the corridor and paused outside the room. “This is your last chance. Give it up.” The sound of the window being opened reached his ears. In an instant the suspect would be gone. Movement at the front door caught his eye and his heart slammed into his ribs.
Kate stood in the doorway, her eyes filled with terror.
A knife, inches from her throat.
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