Читать книгу The Silent Witness - Dani Sinclair - Страница 13

“Nicki? What’s the matter? You sound funny.”

Nicki locked the front door and turned off the main light. There were no customers inside the craft shop so it didn’t matter if she closed early. What did matter was the man leaning almost negligently against the brick wall near the mouth of the alley across the street.

“Nothing’s wrong.” She told herself he wasn’t staring at her windows, he was just waiting for someone. The second feature at the movie theater started at nine. He was probably waiting to meet someone and go inside. He could even be waiting for someone to come out from the last show. It was silly to feel so uneasy. “Everything’s fine. What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you could go out and check your car after you close tonight. I can’t find my gold bracelet and I think I might have lost it in your car the other day.”

Nicki called on patience. Her much younger half-sister wasn’t generally careless, but the request didn’t surprise Nicki. If it didn’t involve a horse, Hope seldom paid a lot of attention to details.

Nicki’s gaze flicked to the street. The man was in deep shadows, but he was still there.

“Uh, Hope, I’ll let you know if I find it.”

“Okay. Did Ilona find you okay the other day?”

Shocked, Nicki forgot about the man and focused on her sister. Ilona Toskov had been her roommate at the University of Maryland more than eight years ago. Nicki had run into her at a Frederick shopping center a few weeks ago and they’d decided to meet for lunch the following month. Two days ago, Ilona arrived on Nicki’s doorstop, scared, bruised, and seeking a haven.

“What are you talking about?”

Hope hesitated. “Is something wrong, Nicki? She called here trying to find you and I gave her your number and told her where you lived. That was okay, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. Of course. It’s just that Ilona is having some, uh…personal problems. I didn’t know she’d spoken with you.”

“Oh. She didn’t say anything about that to me.”

Nicki wasn’t surprised. Ilona had seemed horribly embarrassed. An abusive boyfriend who turned out to be married wasn’t something most women would want to discuss with anyone.

“Look, Hope, I’d rather you wouldn’t mention her name to anyone else right now, all right?” Especially not with Ilona hiding in Nicki’s apartment over the store at this very moment.

“No problem. So you’ll go out back right after you close and check for my bracelet?”

“I’ll check.”

“Thanks, Nicki. Talk to you later.”

Nicki replaced the receiver and stared out the window of her shop. The man was still there.

Nervously, she checked the lock on the front door, flipped the sign to Closed, removed the cash drawer and headed for her minuscule office. A car barreled down the alley leading to the parking area behind the building. Nicki tensed.

Good grief. If she kept jumping at every sound she’d need tranquilizers. Someone probably wanted to reach one of the stores before it closed. Despite her own slow evening, she hoped the store they wanted to reach wasn’t hers.

Nicki sighed as she opened the safe. Fools Point didn’t have much crime as a rule, but lately, things had been changing. There was that unsolved car bombing several months ago in which a man had died a terrible death. The police believed it was gang related. That struck a nerve locally, occurring so close to town. Then the rash of car thefts in the area was increasing, and Fay Garvey’s murder and the destruction of the Bide Awhile Motel had shocked everyone. Only a month later Jerome Inglewood had been killed in a bank robbery in D.C. Local men had been involved. They’d gone after Jerome’s pregnant wife because she was a witness to the murder.

Nicki sighed again. There was no such thing as a safe place anymore. Ilona had brought that home when she sought refuge in Nicki’s apartment two nights ago.

Ilona refused to go to the police. The bruises and threats her boyfriend had made had given both women good reason to be nervous.

Nicki closed the safe and spun the lock. She hefted the awkwardly shaped box of new supplies and tried to plan the next window display in her mind. But her mind wouldn’t cooperate. She was far too edgy.

A car engine idled behind the store. She needed to get a grip. There was nothing sinister in that. Three days ago, she wouldn’t have thought a thing of it.

Three days ago, her life had been a whole lot simpler.

Telling herself to stop acting so jumpy, she carried the box out front. The car suddenly backfired several times. The noise reminded her of firecrackers going off.

Nicki hesitated. She set the box down and listened hard. Gunshots could sound like firecrackers.

Heart in her throat, Nicki ran to check the lock on the rear entrance. That lock was the only thing that stood between her and whoever was in the alley outside. Thankfully, the dead bolt was in place. The rear door was secure and there were no windows back here to worry about. She was safe.

So was Ilona, as long as she didn’t unbolt the apartment door upstairs.

Nicki peered through the peephole. All she could see in the darkness was the hood of the running car. Nicki hesitated, unwilling to telephone the police until she was sure of what she’d heard. She strained to listen over the sound of blood pounding through her veins. The car continued to idle harmlessly.

Shots? Or backfires like she’d first thought? Ilona wouldn’t thank her for calling the police and drawing attention to the shop needlessly.

Nicki practically jumped three feet in the air when the telephone sliced through the silence. She hurried to the office, shutting down lights as she went. She didn’t want to draw attention to the store from the outside. Everything was okay, she told herself. Ilona’s boyfriend could not have found her. Ilona was safe.

But she had to be terrified.

As Nicki reached for the receiver, she saw both phone lines were lit. The business line flashed with the incoming call. Ilona? Calling from the apartment phone? Nicki lifted the receiver. A click filled her ear. She frowned, her pulses racing.

The house line was no longer lit. But why would Ilona hang up? She wouldn’t have.

Unless she didn’t have a choice.

Nicki snatched her purse from the bottom desk drawer. In her rush to get upstairs, she tripped over the edge of the large box she’d left sitting out. Stumbling sideways, she knocked into a cardboard display and nearly fell. With an oath, she shoved the box to one side.

She wasn’t usually clumsy, but a sense of urgency practically overwhelmed her. Nicki couldn’t explain why, but she needed to get to Ilona. She had to be certain her friend was all right.

Nicki fumbled for her keys, dropping them, then stepping on them in her frantic hurry. As she locked the shop door, a figure dashed out of the alley and raced across the street. For a second, her breath caught in her throat.

Was it the same man who’d been watching her shop? Though she’d never had a clear view of his face, there was something hauntingly familiar about the form that sprinted out of sight.

With an impatient shake of her head, she opened the communal door leading up to her apartment and the one across the landing.

Her apartment door gaped open, showering the steep staircase with light. She scooped up her cat, who’d taken the opportunity to try to sneak outside, and rushed up the stairs.

“Ilona!”

Silence met her call.

Nicki set Ginger down inside and closed the door. She didn’t have to search her small apartment to know Ilona was gone. The emptiness struck her immediately.

She nearly tripped over the handset of her portable telephone that lay on the carpet. Had Ilona dropped it as she fled? But why had she run? Nicki picked it up, trying to stem the apprehension hammering in her throat. There were no signs of struggle.

The telephone in her hand shattered the silence. Jolted by surprise, Nicki answered cautiously as if the instrument itself presented some danger.

“Hello?”

“Nicki!” Ilona’s usually sultry voice came over the line as if she was out of breath.

“Ilona! Where are you?”

“He found me!”

Fear welded the handset to Nicki’s fingers.

“I tried to go out the back but a man started shooting!”

“Your boyfriend shot at you?” The bruises and threats made that a frightening possibility.

“No! The other man.”

“What other man?” Ilona’s rush of words weren’t making any sense. “Slow down, Ilona.”

“Oh, God, Nicki, I just saw a man get killed. Right in front of me!”

For a second, fear nearly made Nicki deaf. “What?”

“A man walked up to the car and shot the driver. I saw the whole thing.”

Gunshots. Not backfires.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course not! I’m terrified! Don’t you understand? A car pulled up and a man walked up to it and opened fire. I was standing right there! I’ve never been so scared.”

“But you aren’t hurt?”

Ilona didn’t seem to hear her. “I can’t believe it! It was so incredible! Then I did something really stupid, Nicki. I called the police!”

“That’s not stupid. You—”

“No! It is stupid! They’ll have a record of the call! They’ll know there was a witness!”

Nicki tried to stay calm. “It’s okay.”

“No! It’s not okay! I can’t be a witness!”

“Take it easy, Ilona. Who was the man?”

“Which man? Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’ve never seen either of those men before.”

“But you said your boyfriend found you.”

“I’m rattled, Nicki. Will you just listen a minute?” Almost calmly, Ilona began to describe the man in the car. Nicki thought about the man she’d seen run across the street.

“Nicki, I can’t tell the police what I saw!” Ilona concluded.

“Of course you can. You have to. A man is dead. You have to tell them—”

“No! You’ll have to tell them.”

Nicki stared at the flowers on her coffee table. The cut crystal bowl rested precariously near the edge of the table. “Ilona, I didn’t see the murder, you did.”

“I know that, but the police don’t. You have to pretend to be me. You can tell the police what I saw. I’ll describe everything to you.”

Nicki sank down on the couch and shoved the flowers back into place. “You can’t be serious.”

“You have to! Please, Nicki! They’re going to think the caller was you anyhow. I didn’t give them my name.”

“But—”

“Is that sirens in the background?”

Only then did Nicki process the sound of the siren turning down the alley. The police were here already.

“Promise me, Nicki! You have to promise me!”

“Ilona, this is crazy. Just come back and tell them what you saw.”

“I won’t. I can’t! If you don’t give them the description then the murderer will get away free. Is that what you want? Because I’m not coming back, Nicki.”

Nicki gripped the telephone even more tightly. Ginger jumped up beside her on the couch, her feline eyes staring with unwinking intelligence. Nicki reached out to stroke the comforting fur.

“Look, Ilona, I know you’re scared, but be reasonable. All you have to do is tell the police what you saw. They’ll protect you. I keep telling you they’ll protect you from the man who hurt you too.”

Silence.

Finally, in a stilted voice Ilona said, “The man who hurt me is a policeman, Nicki.”

The words filled her ear like a tidal wave of destruction. No wonder Ilona had refused to discuss going to the police. No wonder she was so frightened. Who do you turn to when the protectors turn on you?

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Ilona continued. “I was afraid you wouldn’t let me stay if you knew.”

“Of course I would have let you stay,” Nicki said automatically. But she realized she would have been even more nervous if she had known the truth. “Look, Ilona—”

“Don’t tell me I should report him. I’m not going to and that’s all there is to it. Now, are you going to cover for me or not?”

“But I can’t be a witness when I wasn’t even there.”

“All you have to do is describe what I saw. No one will know it wasn’t you in the alley. Please, Nicki. I’m so scared. I don’t want that man’s murderer to walk free just because I’m afraid.”

“Then come back and—”

“Nicki!”

Nicki realized her options were down to two. She could refuse, but then she’d have to explain the phone call. And that might put Ilona in harm’s way if her boyfriend found out. Only, to agree to this preposterous plan…Nicki envisioned the figure running across the street and hesitated. Maybe she had seen the killer after all.

“Tell me exactly what you saw.”

Nicki listened closely this time. The general description could fit a dozen men right here in Fools Point. The dark jeans, T-shirt and wavy black hair also fit the man Nicki had seen standing across the street. The man who had looked so hauntingly familiar.

But it couldn’t be Alex. He’d been in town for months now and he hadn’t once come to see her. She shelved the tiny seed of hurt. Rumor had it that he’d taken up with Vic Unsdorf and some other unsavory friends. The men were nothing but trouble. In fact, Alex had already been questioned in several incidents lately. Her stomach clenched.

“Give me that description again,” she demanded.

Jeans, dark shirt, dark wavy hair, six feet, muscular.

Alex.

“Ilona, I can’t!”

She heard Ilona sigh. “Then you can’t. Take care of yourself, Nicki.”

“Wait! What about you? Where are you going to go?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll find another place to stay.”

Nicki gripped the portable phone more tightly. “Are you absolutely sure about what you saw?”

“I was standing right there!”

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t.

“I’ve got to go before he finds me. Thanks for everything, Nicki.”

“Wait!”

Ilona hung up before Nicki’s common sense could offer more of a protest. She shut her eyes trying desperately to think. An authoritative pounding sounded on her back door. Nicki quivered in reaction. Time was up. She had a choice—betray her old friend or her first lover.

Taking a deep breath, Nicki slowly stood and went to admit the police.

“ON YOUR FEET, Coughlin.”

Alex stared at Sergeant Thad Osher’s boyishly round face and thought about how good it would feel to plant his fist in that smugly satisfied expression. Keys jingled in the lock. The cell door parted. Alex came off the cot in one unhurried motion. The fast movement was enough to make Osher take a quick step back. His hand automatically went to the weapon at his side.

“Planning to shoot me, Thaddie?”

Red-faced, Osher glared at him. “Just give me a reason. Turn around.”

“Restraints?” He tried not to let the other man see how angry he was. “You really are afraid of me, aren’t you? My lawyer’s going to have a field day with this one. I don’t imagine Chief Hepplewhite’s going to be any too pleased either. He cares about things like a prisoner’s rights.”

“Shut up.”

Osher clamped the handcuffs around his wrists tight enough to pinch. Alex didn’t make a sound, not even when he was given a shove forward that caused him to crash against the far wall.

Down the hall, a cluster of men waited outside a room. Alex recognized Jake Collins right away. Collins had recently converted the old Perry place into a local bar and restaurant. There were a lot of wild rumors circulating about the newcomer and where he’d earned the money to pull off such a feat. But Alex knew that was mostly because Collins tended to keep to himself.

Alex’s gaze shifted. Another man was Officer Derek Jackstone, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. He almost hadn’t recognized the man. Jackstone would do well if he ever tried undercover work. Put him in different clothing and he tended to blend in.

One of the other two men also looked vaguely familiar, but Alex couldn’t place him or the fourth man immediately.

The room they waited outside of served as the interrogation room. Alex had graced the insides before. He didn’t have to wonder why they were all being herded in there now.

“I’m going to take these cuffs off in a minute for the lineup, Coughlin, but just remember, one false move—”

“What lineup?”

“Shut up.”

Osher gave him another shove. All four men looked up. Jackstone took a quick step in their direction. He was a good cop. “Problem, Thad?”

“No problem. Right, Coughlin?”

Alex met Jackstone’s eyes. “Osher arrested me, but he won’t tell me the specific charge. He also won’t let me call my lawyer.”

Derek’s frown deepened. Osher scowled. “Plenty of time for that after the lineup.”

Alex spun around fast enough to make Osher back up again. “What lineup? I want to know why I’m being held.”

“You read him his rights, Thad?”

“Of course I did.”

“Osher’s never heard of illegal harassment,” Alex told Jackstone. “I think my lawyer is going to have to instruct him.”

“Take the cuffs off, Thad,” Derek said. “Mr. Coughlin isn’t going to cause us any trouble. Isn’t that right?”

“Not at all,” Alex told him pleasantly. “I plan to cause Osher here a great deal of trouble, but all of it will be legal, I promise.”

When Osher would have shoved him again, Jackstone quickly stepped between them.

“Back off, Derek,” Osher demanded.

“You’re letting him bait you, Thad. Let him go.”

“No way. I’m personally going to see this smart-mouthed punk is put away until he’s too old to hold a fork.”

Alex stared hard at Osher’s ruddy complexion. “Even if it means you have to manufacture evidence?”

Osher shoved Jackstone aside. He gripped Alex’s shirt-front. Coffee foully laced his breath. “I don’t have to manufacture anything, Coughlin. We’ve got an eyewitness to that shooting last night. That should put you away for a very long time.”

“That’s enough, Thad,” Jackstone said quickly. “Let him go and get those cuffs off him. We’ve got an audience, in case you forgot. The chief isn’t going to like this.”

Osher muttered a vicious oath, but he released the cuffs. Alex rubbed his chafed wrists openly, while trying to think back to the events of the night before. Eyewitnesses were notoriously unreliable, but what if this one did pick him out?

“Come on, Coughlin,” Jackstone said quietly. “Let’s get this over with.” He opened the door to the interrogation room.

“This is your idea of an official lineup?”

“We aren’t equipped with all the bells and whistles, but this will do,” the young officer replied.

“My lawyer’s going to be rubbing his hands with glee.”

Osher cursed again, but allowed Jackstone to lead Alex into the room. Alex heard the lock click on the door behind them. The room was empty except for a table and three chairs. One wall had a two-way mirror. Alex resisted the urge to make a childishly rude gesture in that direction. Instead, he sauntered over to perch on the edge of the tabletop.

He stared directly into his own face, careful to keep his features as expressionless as possible, while mentally reviewing his actions the night before. Who was their witness? And exactly what had the person seen?

The witness could be one of the shop owners who’d stepped out back, or a customer in the parking lot, or even someone in one of the apartments over the shops. None of the stores had rear-facing windows. Fortunately, that meant the witness couldn’t be Nicki. She’d been inside her shop all night, right up until the gunshots had sounded.

Alex frowned. Once he’d learned about her craft shop, he’d deliberately stayed away from that part of town. The last thing he could afford was the complication of running into Nicki Michaels again after all this time. But everything had changed last night with a single phone call. All his good intentions dissolved. He’d stood across the street and watched her move around inside her store while he remembered things that were better left forgotten.

“Stand up, Coughlin.” Osher’s voice came from a speaker on the wall in the corner. “Everyone needs to stand against the rear wall and face the mirror.”

Jake Collins frowned. So did one of the other two men Alex didn’t know. In fact, that man looked decidedly nervous. Alex paid him a little more attention, especially when he found himself sandwiched between Collins and the stranger. The man’s jeans were crusted with dirt and greasy stains. He smelled of motor oil and sweat and stale cigarettes. He had a working man’s hands. Dirt was caked under the split and broken fingernails. Alex wondered who he was and what he was doing here in Fools Point. A drifter? They didn’t get many of those here in town.

One at a time, Osher had the men take a step forward and stand in profile. Despite the fact that all of them had dark hair and were of a similar build, if someone had seen Alex in the alley last night, they weren’t going to be fooled by this charade. Most police forces didn’t bother with lineups any more. They showed victims or witnesses pictures instead, but Osher was making it blatantly clear who he wanted this witness to point out. Chief Hepplewhite had picked a bad week to take his wife into D.C. for medical evaluation.

Hepplewhite was a good cop. Smart, thorough, with no axes to grind. Osher, on the other hand, couldn’t find a clue if he was stepping on one. Alex stepped back and waited to be denounced. Minutes later, Osher’s voice filled the room again. This time, he sounded disgusted.

“Okay, let’s do it one more time.”

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. The witness hadn’t picked him out. But then, what had the witness seen last night? He was going to have to find the person and have a little talk.

“TAKE ANOTHER LOOK, Ms. Michaels. A good look this time.”

Nicki couldn’t do anything else. Her insides had twisted the moment the four men had walked into the room. Alex Coughlin, big as life and twice as sexy, had strolled over to perch on the edge of the table. He stared straight into her eyes. Suddenly, she was sixteen again and desperately in love.

He had to be almost thirty-four by now. And he still needed a haircut and a shave. She almost smiled. Then she realized her fingers were half-raised as if to stroke that cheek. She clutched her hands together as Sergeant Osher spoke to the men.

Nicki shook her head to rid it of the wash of bittersweet memories. This was hardly the time or the place.

“Ms. Michaels, you aren’t even trying,” Osher protested. “You don’t have to be afraid. We’ll protect you.”

She pulled her arm away from his annoying touch. “I’m not the least bit afraid, Sergeant Osher. But, like I told you, it all happened fast. It was very dark outside. I’ve complained to city hall about that broken streetlight behind the store several times. No one does anything.”

“Ms. Michaels, I know it was dark, but you were right there. You saw the murder.”

Stubbornly, she shook her head. “I can’t point a finger at anyone, I told you that. I never got a clear look at his face.”

At least she could say that and speak the truth. She had never seen the murder let alone the murderer’s face. In her heart, she knew it was Alex she’d seen running across the street. But that didn’t mean he’d pulled the trigger, despite what Ilona had said.

Nicki would go to jail herself before she’d make a positive identification of anyone. She’d given the police the description Ilona had passed on to her. That was as far as she was willing to go. Her mind refused to reconcile the Alex she had known with a man who could walk up to a car and kill someone in cold blood.

Her Alex had been tough. Ready to defend himself—or anyone weaker if it came to that. But he had never sought trouble. Of course, he hadn’t needed to. It always came looking for him.

She shrugged off that memory. She was now certain Alex had been across the street right before the shooting. If she was right, he would have had to run across the street the minute she started back to her office with the cash drawer in order to be in position to fire those shots.

Okay, it was possible. Barely. She didn’t want to believe it. Nicki chewed on her bottom lip. Anyone witnessing a murder would run away. That didn’t make Alex a killer.

Did it?

“Try, Ms. Michaels. Try real hard.”

She glared at the policeman and decided even if she had seen the murder with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have said so to this bully. Thad Osher made her skin crawl. She didn’t like the way he almost leered whenever their paths crossed. He seemed to think he was irresistible to women, but he made her feel dirty and undressed.

“I’m sorry. I just can’t say for sure.”

She stared at Alex. A pang of loss held her transfixed. She’d thought him unbearably sexy at nineteen. Cocky. Sure of himself. Running all over town on that secondhand motorcycle he’d bought. Refusing to let the scandal surrounding his father’s death touch him, despite all the whispers and pointed fingers. Alex had been bitter and angry as a teenager, but he’d never been anything but kind to her.

She’d never forgotten the day he’d picked wildflowers for her down by Trouble Lake. He’d talked about his dreams for the future. A future that hadn’t included a sixteen-year-old girlfriend, she’d finally realized. Back then, she’d been so sure he’d return for her one day. But he never had.

Osher brought his fist down on his thigh in a gesture of frustration. “Did you see the guy or not?”

She looked into his glittering eyes and wanted to run. Instead she squared her shoulders defiantly. “Badgering me isn’t going to change a thing, Sergeant. I told you what I saw. I’ve looked at your suspects. Now, I need to open my shop.”

He stood too close. Nicki decided he had mean eyes. She fought down an instinctive need to back away and held her ground. Sergeant Osher was the type to take advantage of any perceived weakness.

“You know, Ms. Michaels, once the word gets out there was a witness, that shop might not be a safe place for a woman like you.”

A trace of fear mixed with her loathing. “Are you threatening me, Sergeant?”

His eyes flickered. “Not at all. Call it a friendly warning. You’ll be a lot safer once the murderer is behind bars.”

“Then I suggest you find him.”

She half expected him to grab her arm as she stalked from the room, but he didn’t. She could feel twin spots of color on her cheeks as she strode quickly past Carolyn. The pretty receptionist, who also served as the police dispatcher, watched with a frowning expression of concern. Another time Nicki would have stopped to chat. Now, she just wanted to escape.

Nicki hung on to her haughty pose as she left the building and stepped into the wilting heat and humidity of the August sunshine. She was trembling with reaction, so furious she couldn’t think straight.

How dare he threaten her? Because no matter what he said, Osher’s words had been a threat. He was supposed to be a police officer. One of the men who protected the people. But he was the kind of man who gave policemen a bad reputation. How could his wife stand to be around him?

Nicki clung to her anger as she crossed the street and walked briskly past the General Store. Bianca Tooley waved to her from inside the post office a minute later. Nicki didn’t pause to talk with the lonely woman as she often did. All she wanted was the sanctuary of her safe little store.

Seeing Alex again had brought back all sorts of memories. Hot nights and even hotter kisses. He’d been the town’s bad boy and her first lover. And she’d cried enough tears to overflow Trouble Lake when he left. But Alex had never once looked back, just as he’d sworn. As far as she knew, this was the first time in all those years that he’d ever returned to town. He hadn’t even come home for his mother’s funeral. Was he here now because of his sister?

Ironically, Kayla was engaged to marry a D.C. police officer. And according to Mildred Kitteridge over at the General Store, the town council had approved Chief Hepplewhite’s request to hire more help. Alex’s soon-to-be brother-in-law was about to become the second in command of the Fools Point police force.

Could Alex really have killed a man in cold blood?

The question plagued her all day long as she taught a decoupage class, a knitting class, and two ceramic classes between waiting on customers. By the time the last brush had been cleaned, the last jar of glaze put away, and the large kiln loaded and turned on, Nicki was more than ready for an early night.

She ate dinner without tasting a bite. She was too edgy to settle down with her needlepoint project. Her cat stropped her leg in sympathy.

“Thanks, Ginger. If only Ilona would call so I could be sure she’s okay.” But the telephone remained obstinately silent.

Ginger parrumphed and butted her lightly. Nicki scratched behind the cat’s ears, then went to check the locks. She drew a tub of steamy water and added the new bath oil she’d been meaning to try. The scent really did remind her of gardenias.

Lighting several fat candles, she piled her hair on top of her head, selected a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and picked up her novel. She would read and soak and dispel these useless memories that had haunted her all day.

Less than twenty minutes later, she knew it was no use. She simply couldn’t keep her mind on the printed pages. The story deserved her attention, but thoughts of Alex kept intruding. He was a mature man now. Still cocky and full of swaggering confidence, and still irresistibly attractive.

Maybe Hope was right. Nicki was turning into a spinster. She’d even started talking to her cat. Smiling, she patted herself dry and pulled on her long satin robe.

“I wonder if other single women like satin lingerie and sleep in the nude, Ginger.” The cat raised her head inquiringly from the rug. Seeing no food in the offing, she curled again and closed her eyes. Cats had their priorities straight.

Nicki refilled her glass and settled down to watch the news. When she found herself almost nodding off, she turned off the TV and the light. Going to the front window that looked out over Main Street, she paused. Her heart began to pound. Was there someone standing in the shadows beside the appliance store once again?

Nicki stared so hard her eyes began to burn, but no one and nothing moved. It must have been her imagination. There wasn’t anyone there. Still, she remained standing for several more minutes just watching to be certain.

Feeling a bit foolish, she rechecked her door locks and headed for the bedroom. Maybe she and Ginger should get a dog. A large dog, like Spider, the Labrador retriever Bianca Tooley always kept at her side.

Good grief. Hope was more right than she knew. Nicki was turning into Miss Tooley.

Nicki tossed her robe over the nightstand and climbed into bed. Was Ilona safe? Had Alex Coughlin really walked up to a car in the alley and shot a man in cold blood?

Her last thought was that she hoped not.

The dream began with a memory. Alex’s soft kisses slowly awakened her passion. His arms held her, the way only his arms ever had. But now they were a man’s arms. Hard. Protective.

She was dreaming and she knew it, but she clung to the dream, not wanting to wake. She was on the brink of something wonderful. She tried to ignore the sense of wrongness that disturbed the dream and tugged at her half-conscious brain.

The creak of the floorboard next to her bed snapped her eyes open. Too late, she felt the presence inside the room. A hand came out of the darkness to clamp over her mouth.

“Don’t scream.”