Her Midnight Cowboy (Keeper's Kin Book 1) by Beth Alvarez

Author:Beth Alvarez [Alvarez, Beth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Beth Alvarez
Published: 2017-09-18T16:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

* * *

FELICITY WOKE WITH a start, confused when she opened her eyes to darkness.

The clock on the wall pointed to four. She didn’t usually sleep so long without waking. Her eyelids still drooped, heavy with fatigue. Almost worse than living the nightmare of the night before was the day that had followed, filled with people coming and going, prying into her business, heaping on condolences and sympathy. Even more dreadful were the times she had to herself, where guilt and regret plagued her and her mind whirled over what she was supposed to do next. It had been exhausting, and with that in mind, it was no wonder she’d slept most of the night.

What woke her? Something prickled at the edge of her senses, something out of place. She used to wake like that when her mother was up at night because of her illness. More than once, they’d whiled the night away in the living room, talking in whispers to keep from waking her father.

Rubbing her eyes, she listened to the quiet of the house on the other side of the door. Nick and Penny had come in late, but they were surely sleeping now. Emmett wasn’t the type to be up at night, either. But the nagging sense of something off kept pulling at her, until she threw back her covers and sat up. The creak of the bedsprings gave way to something shy of silence.

Water.

The pipes ran to the second floor through the wall beside her bed. That was what woke her; the pipes hissing, carrying water upstairs. Her shoulders slumped and she nestled back into her bed. A late-night trip to the bathroom was no reason to be concerned. She huddled under her blankets and waited for the sound to stop.

It didn’t.

She got up again, pulling on her robe and creeping out into the house. The upstairs toilet got stuck sometimes. The water would run all night if she didn’t shake the handle, and with the noisy pipes in her wall, she doubted she’d sleep any more if she left it.

Except it wasn’t the guest bathroom upstairs where the water ran. She stopped at the top of the stairs and stared at the sliver of light beneath the suite’s door. That wasn’t right; it had to be coming from the bathroom off the hall. She crept down the hall to look.

The guest bathroom was silent, and when she stole back to the top of the stairway, the narrow sliver of light still shone against the polished wood floor.

There couldn’t be anyone in there. The suite stayed locked when a guest booked it, and there were only two keys.

Panic made her heart leap. Maybe it was whoever took him, scouring his room for any evidence that might point the police in their direction.

Only they wouldn’t have any reason to be in the bathroom, running water. Standing right outside the door, she could hear the shower.

She was dreaming, then. A horrible, tortuous dream to go with the wretched day that preceded it.

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