“Mind if I look around?”

“Be my guest,” she said, and he stepped into an attached bathroom with sunken tub, shower, and sauna. Next to it was a walk-in closet the size of his living room. It was cut up by different shelves and rods, even drawers. Long gowns, slacks, blouses, dresses, sweaters, all hung above cubbyholes filled with shoes and shelves lined with handbags. More clothes than any one woman had the right to own. One of the drawers was open slightly, revealing a red lace bra. His throat tightened a second and he visualized her in the garment, then brought himself up short and walked out of the closet to the bedroom again.

She was standing near a bedside table, waiting for him.

“This is where I found the note,” she said, opening a drawer gingerly. It was empty now. “As I said, no one uses it. I don’t think it’s been opened since I moved in.”

“Except by whoever left the note.”

“Yeah.” Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her middle and walked to the windows. “You know, when I first came here, I felt so free. As if this was a haven. But lately…” She turned, faced him, and stared at a rug for a half a second. “I know this sounds paranoid, but I’ve had this feeling…a sense that someone’s watching me.” She bit at the edge of her lip. “And I had it before I got this note, even before I got the first one. It’s…just…this strange sensation. I get cold inside just thinking about it.” She blushed a little. “I know—paranoid, huh?”

“Maybe not.”

“Yeah.” She stole a glance at the nightstand. “To think that he was here. Inside my house. My bedroom.” Her voice quivered a bit. “He could have been inside when I was sleeping. God, he could have been in the girls’ rooms. Do you know how creepy that is?”

He nodded and heard the sound of a truck’s engine rumbling closer. “You might consider moving into a hotel for a while.”

“I’m not letting some…weirdo push me out of my own home. No way. I’ll hire people. I called a locksmith this morning. He’s already changed all the locks. Wes Allen worked on the security system earlier today, and I bought shells for the shotgun.”

“You did what?” He was shocked. This little woman with a weapon? “Do you know how to use one?”

“I’m hoping I won’t have to.”

“But you have kids in the house and—”

“And I’m going to protect

them. I did learn how to shoot years ago, for my part in Resurrection. Anne Parks was a killer. She usually used other weapons, but there were two scenes with guns. My director wanted me to look like I knew how to handle a handgun, so I took lessons. Have I ever shot a living thing? No. Would I? Yeah. If it meant protecting my kids.”

“That was a handgun, right?”

“Yes.”

“You might want to practice with the shotgun. Shot scatters and…it wouldn’t be my weapon of choice.”

“It’s what I had and better than nothing.”

He thought of all the statistics about gun owners killing themselves or their loved ones with their own weapons. “Just be safe.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she said as the dog lifted his head, then growled loudly. Nails clicking as he scrambled over the hardwood floors, Critter began barking his fool head off and took off down the stairs.

“He takes his job seriously,” Jenna quipped as she followed Critter downstairs.

He’d better, Carter thought, he’d damned well better.

Harrison Brennan was on the back porch, peering through the window mounted into the door.

He was also looking angry as all get-out.

Great, Jenna thought as she opened the door and the dog let out a disgruntled woof. Critter had never been a fan of Harrison Brennan, but then neither had either of her girls. With all his good intentions, he was still irritating.

“The sheriff here?” he asked. “He stopped by my place earlier.” Brennan looked over her shoulder and his jaw tightened slightly, his lips becoming a flat, unhappy line.

“Harrison,” Carter said, close enough behind her that she felt his breath against the back of her neck. A little tingle danced down her spine, but she ignored it.

“Guess that answers your question.” Jenna tried not to be irritated with her neighbor. After all, Harrison always seemed to have her best interests in mind. Critter didn’t seem to be of the same mind and growled at Harrison.

“Shh,” she warned the dog, “or you’ll be out in the snow.”

Tags: Lisa Jackson West Coast Mystery
Source: readsnovelonline.net