Read Online His Every Desire by Shiloh Walker - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shiloh Walker
Ads: Link
play.
All he had to do was find out to whom she had sold houses recently. His gut told him that Tracy hadn’t settled down until recently. She would have kept moving for a very long time.
How many young, single females would have bought houses in this area in the past few years? Small as it was, it couldn’t be that hard to narrow it down.
* * * * *
Becky watched as he walked away—wasn’t a hardship. The man had one fine ass. But he also had very, very hard eyes.
There was something dangerous about him.
And Becky had seen something fragile about Emery Hughes the minute she’d seen the younger woman.
Was this an ex? A private investigator? Becky didn’t know, but she’d be damned if she’d lead the man right to her. Waiting until he disappeared from sight, she turned to her computer and clicked on the file. She reached for the phone. Couldn’t hurt to call, right?
A chill danced along her spine and she shivered a little as she cradled the phone on her shoulder. She started to punch in the number, but the line went dead.
Frowning, she hung up briefly and tried again. Still just dead air.
Damn it.
Hanging up the phone, she reached for the cell lying on her desk. But it read “Out of service”. “What the hell?” she muttered.
Scowling, she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. From memory, she jotted down the first three numbers and then glanced at her computer screen. Her pen fell from numb fingers.
The computer screen had gone black. Her breath came out in frozen little puffs as she found herself staring at the misty face of a woman.
It was a young woman—her features vaguely familiar. Becky cringed and stood, backing as far away from the thing hovering in front of her as she could, a whimper rising in her chest.
He won’t hurt her.
The words had no sound, just an echo that seemed to circle through Becky’s mind as she stared at…whatever it was. Logically, Becky knew what she was staring at. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t admit it.
“Huh…huh…who?” Becky squeaked out.
There was a laugh that seemed to ripple through the air, unlike the voice that didn’t really have a sound. The air warmed just a little. You know who I’m talking about. She’s safe—safer with him than she’s been in her whole life.
“She’s fine here.” Nothing ever happened here, not in Bethlehem.
She won’t be. Not for long. And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t trying to take care of her.
The cold came back, wrapping her in its icy grip. A wave of black rose up, crashing over her, pulling her down in its grip. Her breath lodged in her throat and Becky fell helplessly into oblivion.
* * * * *
Her back ached. Becky sat up slowly, rubbing at her neck and wincing. The office was dark. Confused, she looked around.
The hands on her watch glowed slightly and she blinked as she realized it was close to ten. “Damn it.”
All the lights were off. It was quiet. Too damned quiet. It finally dawned on her why—her computer was off, too. The ever-present hum was missing.
Shaking her head, she reached over and clicked on the little table lamp.
Her head ached. Must have come from falling asleep. Too much work, not enough sleep. She started to try and sift through the files she hadn’t taken care of but finally just stacked them up neatly on her desk.
“Later,” she mumbled. “I’ll do them later.”
Reaching into the desk drawer by her right side, she pulled out her purse. With a sigh, she rose. Halfway to the door, she paused.
Glancing back to the desk, she frowned. Had she talked to somebody? Seen somebody?
Putting her hand to her temple, she scowled.
“I really need a vacation.”
* * * * *
Vincent moved through the cool, quiet splendor of the silent mansion.
Where was Tracy?
He couldn’t think.
Couldn’t focus.
He remembered Joel coming in, remembered the flare of pain as Joel punched him. And Simmonds, holding a gun on Tracy while Joel put his down. Vincent had had a
All he had to do was find out to whom she had sold houses recently. His gut told him that Tracy hadn’t settled down until recently. She would have kept moving for a very long time.
How many young, single females would have bought houses in this area in the past few years? Small as it was, it couldn’t be that hard to narrow it down.
* * * * *
Becky watched as he walked away—wasn’t a hardship. The man had one fine ass. But he also had very, very hard eyes.
There was something dangerous about him.
And Becky had seen something fragile about Emery Hughes the minute she’d seen the younger woman.
Was this an ex? A private investigator? Becky didn’t know, but she’d be damned if she’d lead the man right to her. Waiting until he disappeared from sight, she turned to her computer and clicked on the file. She reached for the phone. Couldn’t hurt to call, right?
A chill danced along her spine and she shivered a little as she cradled the phone on her shoulder. She started to punch in the number, but the line went dead.
Frowning, she hung up briefly and tried again. Still just dead air.
Damn it.
Hanging up the phone, she reached for the cell lying on her desk. But it read “Out of service”. “What the hell?” she muttered.
Scowling, she grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. From memory, she jotted down the first three numbers and then glanced at her computer screen. Her pen fell from numb fingers.
The computer screen had gone black. Her breath came out in frozen little puffs as she found herself staring at the misty face of a woman.
It was a young woman—her features vaguely familiar. Becky cringed and stood, backing as far away from the thing hovering in front of her as she could, a whimper rising in her chest.
He won’t hurt her.
The words had no sound, just an echo that seemed to circle through Becky’s mind as she stared at…whatever it was. Logically, Becky knew what she was staring at. But she couldn’t, wouldn’t admit it.
“Huh…huh…who?” Becky squeaked out.
There was a laugh that seemed to ripple through the air, unlike the voice that didn’t really have a sound. The air warmed just a little. You know who I’m talking about. She’s safe—safer with him than she’s been in her whole life.
“She’s fine here.” Nothing ever happened here, not in Bethlehem.
She won’t be. Not for long. And I’m sorry. I wouldn’t do this if I wasn’t trying to take care of her.
The cold came back, wrapping her in its icy grip. A wave of black rose up, crashing over her, pulling her down in its grip. Her breath lodged in her throat and Becky fell helplessly into oblivion.
* * * * *
Her back ached. Becky sat up slowly, rubbing at her neck and wincing. The office was dark. Confused, she looked around.
The hands on her watch glowed slightly and she blinked as she realized it was close to ten. “Damn it.”
All the lights were off. It was quiet. Too damned quiet. It finally dawned on her why—her computer was off, too. The ever-present hum was missing.
Shaking her head, she reached over and clicked on the little table lamp.
Her head ached. Must have come from falling asleep. Too much work, not enough sleep. She started to try and sift through the files she hadn’t taken care of but finally just stacked them up neatly on her desk.
“Later,” she mumbled. “I’ll do them later.”
Reaching into the desk drawer by her right side, she pulled out her purse. With a sigh, she rose. Halfway to the door, she paused.
Glancing back to the desk, she frowned. Had she talked to somebody? Seen somebody?
Putting her hand to her temple, she scowled.
“I really need a vacation.”
* * * * *
Vincent moved through the cool, quiet splendor of the silent mansion.
Where was Tracy?
He couldn’t think.
Couldn’t focus.
He remembered Joel coming in, remembered the flare of pain as Joel punched him. And Simmonds, holding a gun on Tracy while Joel put his down. Vincent had had a
Similar Books
