Read Online Rendezvous with Danger (Reunited Series) by Sharon C. Cooper - Free Book Online
Authors: Sharon C. Cooper
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Quinn eased inside, glass crunching under his feet. He listened for any sign of Alandra while he moved through the kitchen and into the semi-dark dining and living room. Silence enveloped the space and his heart thundered in his chest, afraid of what he might find. God, if anything happened to her…. Tension built between his shoulder blades with every step he took. Flashbacks of that night in Tzbekystan rioted in his head, his mind a crazy mixture of apprehension and irritation. Where the hell is she?
He noted the overturned furniture. Chair and sofa cushions cut to shreds, a storage ottoman was tilted on its side with papers hanging out, and a coat-closet door stood open, clothes blocking the entrance. Whoever did this was looking for something. He kicked several pillows out of the way en route to a set of stairs.
“Isabella, don’t you die on me.” Alandra’s frantic voice floated through the house.
Relief flooded Quinn’s body and his pulse slowed upon hearing her, but concern quickly replaced it as he climbed the stairs, following the sound of her voice, which was getting more hysterical.
“Dammit. What about the book?” she ground out.
Quinn stood outside a bedroom where he could hear Alandra, but the door blocked his view of her. Dresser drawers hung open, and papers covered the portion of the bed he could see. He slowly pushed the door open.
What the hell? Alandra was on the floor, kneeling over a white woman, shaking her at the shoulder. “Isabella, what about the book?” she kept asking, her words getting louder and more panicked, her long wig hiding part of her face. Quinn quickly took in the scene, making sure they were the only ones in the room before he shoved his gun into the back of his waistband and under his jacket. Fear gripped him when he spotted a small puddle of blood tinting the area of floor near the woman’s side and his gaze jumped to Alandra. Her hair was wild, tears and mascara stained the part of her face he could see, but she didn’t appear to be injured. A haunted, glazed look of despair spread over her face.
“Isabella, you can’t do this to me,” Alandra yelled. “Please don’t do this to me.” She slumped forward in defeat, her next few words garbled against the lifeless body.
“Lan?” Quinn said just above a whisper and moved toward her, but stopped short when her head snapped up and within a blink of an eye, she had her gun trained on him. Damn . Her reflexes were definitely on point.
“It’s me, baby,” he said, his hands out so she could see he wasn’t armed. “It’s just me.”
For a few seconds, she looked at him as if she didn’t recognize him, the gun shaking in her hand, and her resolve crumbling before his eyes. He had no idea what she would do. Color drained from her face and confusion showed in her gaze. He hated to see her in so much pain, but until she lowered the gun, he couldn’t help her. There was a time he knew she’d never do anything to harm him, but it had been years since they’d seen each other and he had no idea what she was capable of or what she was thinking. Seconds passed, he maintained his position and she slowly lowered her gun.
“I can’t take this anymore,” she cried.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you out of here.” He reached down and grabbed her gun, then helped her stand. “We can call the police once we’re in the truck.”
“Nooo, I can’t leave,” Alandra sobbed. Her body trembled against him, her words full of torment. “She knows. She knows what happened to me!”
Quinn’s eyebrows drew together. “What?”
Alandra scurried away from him and the body, anxiously looking around the room, helplessly wiping her tears. “She told me she knows who framed me and tried to kill me. She told me she had answers to my questions, and proof.”
Quinn reached out and grabbed Alandra from behind, pulling her close against his body. “Baby, I don’t know what this is all about, but we need to get out
Quinn eased inside, glass crunching under his feet. He listened for any sign of Alandra while he moved through the kitchen and into the semi-dark dining and living room. Silence enveloped the space and his heart thundered in his chest, afraid of what he might find. God, if anything happened to her…. Tension built between his shoulder blades with every step he took. Flashbacks of that night in Tzbekystan rioted in his head, his mind a crazy mixture of apprehension and irritation. Where the hell is she?
He noted the overturned furniture. Chair and sofa cushions cut to shreds, a storage ottoman was tilted on its side with papers hanging out, and a coat-closet door stood open, clothes blocking the entrance. Whoever did this was looking for something. He kicked several pillows out of the way en route to a set of stairs.
“Isabella, don’t you die on me.” Alandra’s frantic voice floated through the house.
Relief flooded Quinn’s body and his pulse slowed upon hearing her, but concern quickly replaced it as he climbed the stairs, following the sound of her voice, which was getting more hysterical.
“Dammit. What about the book?” she ground out.
Quinn stood outside a bedroom where he could hear Alandra, but the door blocked his view of her. Dresser drawers hung open, and papers covered the portion of the bed he could see. He slowly pushed the door open.
What the hell? Alandra was on the floor, kneeling over a white woman, shaking her at the shoulder. “Isabella, what about the book?” she kept asking, her words getting louder and more panicked, her long wig hiding part of her face. Quinn quickly took in the scene, making sure they were the only ones in the room before he shoved his gun into the back of his waistband and under his jacket. Fear gripped him when he spotted a small puddle of blood tinting the area of floor near the woman’s side and his gaze jumped to Alandra. Her hair was wild, tears and mascara stained the part of her face he could see, but she didn’t appear to be injured. A haunted, glazed look of despair spread over her face.
“Isabella, you can’t do this to me,” Alandra yelled. “Please don’t do this to me.” She slumped forward in defeat, her next few words garbled against the lifeless body.
“Lan?” Quinn said just above a whisper and moved toward her, but stopped short when her head snapped up and within a blink of an eye, she had her gun trained on him. Damn . Her reflexes were definitely on point.
“It’s me, baby,” he said, his hands out so she could see he wasn’t armed. “It’s just me.”
For a few seconds, she looked at him as if she didn’t recognize him, the gun shaking in her hand, and her resolve crumbling before his eyes. He had no idea what she would do. Color drained from her face and confusion showed in her gaze. He hated to see her in so much pain, but until she lowered the gun, he couldn’t help her. There was a time he knew she’d never do anything to harm him, but it had been years since they’d seen each other and he had no idea what she was capable of or what she was thinking. Seconds passed, he maintained his position and she slowly lowered her gun.
“I can’t take this anymore,” she cried.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you out of here.” He reached down and grabbed her gun, then helped her stand. “We can call the police once we’re in the truck.”
“Nooo, I can’t leave,” Alandra sobbed. Her body trembled against him, her words full of torment. “She knows. She knows what happened to me!”
Quinn’s eyebrows drew together. “What?”
Alandra scurried away from him and the body, anxiously looking around the room, helplessly wiping her tears. “She told me she knows who framed me and tried to kill me. She told me she had answers to my questions, and proof.”
Quinn reached out and grabbed Alandra from behind, pulling her close against his body. “Baby, I don’t know what this is all about, but we need to get out
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