Read Online Vengeful Shadows by Bronwyn Green - Free Book Online Page A

off the past and watched the people wandering through the police department. Several of them looked as dazed and exhausted as she felt. Nearly half an hour later, someone directed her to Detective Duritz’s office, waiting while he scanned through the pages of forms the desk officer had completed.
    She glanced around his cubicle while he read. It looked like a bad set for every cop show she’d ever seen. Piles of grease-stained papers warred with empty cups and half eaten Danishes. The main décor theme seemed to be week-old coffee. He poured a cup from the grungy pot behind his desk and offered it to her.
    “No thanks.” Why mix stalking with food poisoning?
    He rubbed a big hand across his face and turned to the second page of her report. Without looking, he grabbed a pastry took a bite and winced. The Danish hit the bottom of the trashcan next to her with a hollow thud, and Tessa jumped.
    Detective Duritz eyed her over the top of the paper before focusing on the page again. She studied him as he read. He was handsome in a rugged sort of Neanderthal, Me-Tarzan-You-Jane kind of way, but he was no Zander.
    A sense of peace wrapped around her at the thought of the man who lived next door, and she considered telling him about the notes. She dismissed the idea quickly. Zander was a good man, the kind who’d feel obligated to protect her. It was bad enough their friendship was getting complicated by feelings she barely wanted to examine, let alone admit. She didn’t need the added difficulty of Zander somehow feeling responsible for her safety.
    She watched as the detective placed the envelopes and her documentation on the cleanest spot on his desk. With latex gloves and a long metal tweezers, he sifted through the pages, examining them and the ribbon. To his credit, his expression didn’t change when he pulled out the panties.
    He cleared his throat. “Well, Ms. Maycroft, it appears you have a stalker.”
    Ya think? She kept the thought to herself. It probably wasn’t in her best interest to antagonize the police. She settled for nodding.
    “Do you have any idea who it might be?”
    She’d been trying to figure it out for days and still had no clue. “No.”
    “Do you know anyone who would wish you harm?”
    Tessa shook her head.
    “Ex-boyfriends? Ex-lovers? Co-workers? Family members? Neighbors?”
    Mr. McFeely creeped her out a little, but she couldn’t believe he’d written the messages. But, she supposed, an incompetent moron could also be a stalker. And, of course, him . She sincerely doubted he was involved, but she couldn’t afford to dismiss him out of hand.
    “There was a guy in college,” she began, “but I don’t think it could be him. I haven’t seen him in years.”
    “We need to investigate all possibilities.”
    Tessa took a deep breath and met Detective Duritz’s gaze. She insisted to the women she counseled that no woman asks to be raped. But now, she couldn’t keep that tendril of shame from again trying to take root in her soul.
    “We dated—until he assaulted me. But, like I said, I don’t think he’s responsible for this.”
    “Do you want to take that chance?”
    She shook her head, registering the concern in his eyes.
    “What’s his name?”
    “Weston Bridger.” She’d half-expected her voice to shake, but it remained strong and steady.
    “We’ll run a check on him. Any other ideas?”
    “I volunteer at a women’s shelter, and we sometimes get threatening notes there. I can get you a list if you want.”
    He picked up the baggie with the ribbon and scanned her notes. “You say this found its way into your coat pocket last night?”
    “Yes. I was at a gallery opening—Gallery Sixty-Seven.”
    The detective made some notes. “I’ll check out the guest list. Anyone else?” He tapped the pen against his chin while he waited,
    Frustration clawed at her senses. She gave him McFeely’s name. “Other than that, I can’t think of anyone who would send these.”
    He