Read Online Scene of the Crime: Return to Bachelor Moon by Carla Cassidy - Free Book Online
Authors: Carla Cassidy
Tags: United States, Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Literature & Fiction, Contemporary, series, romantic suspense, Mystery & Suspense, Contemporary romantic suspense, Harlequin Intrigue
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his room and powered up his laptop, intending to do some background checks on all the players they’d encountered so far.
He felt as if they were no closer to having any answers than they’d been when they’d first arrived two days ago. He hated having to check in with his director and letting him know they were still clueless as to what had happened to the three people who had seemingly led a happy life here.
He gathered information and took notes, and as always, lost track of place and time as he worked. He was a man who’d always been most comfortable at work, hunting criminals and delving into the darkness of sick minds.
Maybe it was because his childhood had been a dark and frightening place, so hunting killers and cuddling up to violence felt familiar to him.
He finally closed his computer and stretched his arms overhead to work out the kinks in his shoulders. He was shocked to look at the clock and realize it was almost one in the morning.
What time had Sam, Daniella and Macy decided to have milk and cookies in the kitchen on Thursday night? He knew it had been after eight in the evening, but surely it would have been earlier than this considering Macy was only seven.
And Marlena had heard nothing.
He should go to bed. It was late, and his mind was going into strange territory. He eyed the bed, knowing that morning was going to come far too early for him.
Still, instead of heading for bed, he quietly opened his bedroom door. From the room next door he could hear the chorus of snores coming from Jackson and Andrew’s room.
He crept down the stairs, the house silent around him. It’s a crazy idea, he thought. Yet there was really only one way to prove just how soundly Marlena slept, and even though he felt a little foolish, he realized this was something he had to do for himself. He had to know.
The kitchen was lit with a small night-light plugged into an outlet next to the stove, giving him enough illumination to see that Marlena’s door was closed, as he assumed it had been on the night the Connelly family had disappeared.
What he was about to do could in no way be considered an official experiment where results could be used in any way, except for as an answer to a question in his own mind. It was strictly curiosity that drove him.
He pulled out a chair from the table and pushed it so that it toppled to the floor. Then he went to the back door, unlocked it and opened it and then slammed it shut and locked it. Either noise should have awakened the woman sleeping in the next rooms, but minutes passed and she didn’t fly out of her bedroom to see what was happening.
Maybe she was awake and afraid to come out of her rooms, he thought. He walked over to her door and tried the knob, surprised when it turned easily beneath his hand.
He opened the door to the darkness of her sitting room, although he saw the faint glow of another night-light coming from her bedroom.
Was she playing possum? Had she heard the noise in the kitchen and recognized what he was doing? Had she heard the sound of Sam’s family being kidnapped and been too afraid to rush to help?
With quiet stealth he moved through her sitting room and stood in her bedroom doorway. She was on her side, curled up beneath the sheet. The sound of her deep, even breathing let him know she was truly asleep, that the noise he had created in the kitchen hadn’t awakened her.
He should turn and leave, but instead found himself inching forward, closer to the bed. His fingers itched with the desire just to stroke softly down the side of her face, to tangle in her soft-looking curls.
As he reached the side of her bed, he wondered whether, if he pressed his lips to hers, she would awaken, like a princess responding to the kiss of her prince.
He stumbled, the ridiculous thought startling him. He backed out of her bedroom and from her apartment area. Closing the door softly behind him, he uprighted the chair he’d cast to the floor and hurried up the
He felt as if they were no closer to having any answers than they’d been when they’d first arrived two days ago. He hated having to check in with his director and letting him know they were still clueless as to what had happened to the three people who had seemingly led a happy life here.
He gathered information and took notes, and as always, lost track of place and time as he worked. He was a man who’d always been most comfortable at work, hunting criminals and delving into the darkness of sick minds.
Maybe it was because his childhood had been a dark and frightening place, so hunting killers and cuddling up to violence felt familiar to him.
He finally closed his computer and stretched his arms overhead to work out the kinks in his shoulders. He was shocked to look at the clock and realize it was almost one in the morning.
What time had Sam, Daniella and Macy decided to have milk and cookies in the kitchen on Thursday night? He knew it had been after eight in the evening, but surely it would have been earlier than this considering Macy was only seven.
And Marlena had heard nothing.
He should go to bed. It was late, and his mind was going into strange territory. He eyed the bed, knowing that morning was going to come far too early for him.
Still, instead of heading for bed, he quietly opened his bedroom door. From the room next door he could hear the chorus of snores coming from Jackson and Andrew’s room.
He crept down the stairs, the house silent around him. It’s a crazy idea, he thought. Yet there was really only one way to prove just how soundly Marlena slept, and even though he felt a little foolish, he realized this was something he had to do for himself. He had to know.
The kitchen was lit with a small night-light plugged into an outlet next to the stove, giving him enough illumination to see that Marlena’s door was closed, as he assumed it had been on the night the Connelly family had disappeared.
What he was about to do could in no way be considered an official experiment where results could be used in any way, except for as an answer to a question in his own mind. It was strictly curiosity that drove him.
He pulled out a chair from the table and pushed it so that it toppled to the floor. Then he went to the back door, unlocked it and opened it and then slammed it shut and locked it. Either noise should have awakened the woman sleeping in the next rooms, but minutes passed and she didn’t fly out of her bedroom to see what was happening.
Maybe she was awake and afraid to come out of her rooms, he thought. He walked over to her door and tried the knob, surprised when it turned easily beneath his hand.
He opened the door to the darkness of her sitting room, although he saw the faint glow of another night-light coming from her bedroom.
Was she playing possum? Had she heard the noise in the kitchen and recognized what he was doing? Had she heard the sound of Sam’s family being kidnapped and been too afraid to rush to help?
With quiet stealth he moved through her sitting room and stood in her bedroom doorway. She was on her side, curled up beneath the sheet. The sound of her deep, even breathing let him know she was truly asleep, that the noise he had created in the kitchen hadn’t awakened her.
He should turn and leave, but instead found himself inching forward, closer to the bed. His fingers itched with the desire just to stroke softly down the side of her face, to tangle in her soft-looking curls.
As he reached the side of her bed, he wondered whether, if he pressed his lips to hers, she would awaken, like a princess responding to the kiss of her prince.
He stumbled, the ridiculous thought startling him. He backed out of her bedroom and from her apartment area. Closing the door softly behind him, he uprighted the chair he’d cast to the floor and hurried up the
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