When He Was Bad... by Anne Oliver

Author:Anne Oliver [Oliver, Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-01-26T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

DARKNESS was already swallowing what little day was left when Matt dropped her outside her apartment building to change for dinner. The rain clouds had blown away, leaving a hard indigo sky. The aroma of damp bitumen and a charcoal grill somewhere hung on the still air.

A car cruised the street, slowing as it neared. Ellie tugged her tracksuit jacket a little higher. She never let thoughts of murder and mayhem bother her. If she did, she’d never go anywhere. But she breathed a little easier when it passed by.

Climbing the stairs in the dimness—the darn stairwell light hadn’t been replaced for three weeks—she dug in her pocket for her keys. Her thoughts were focused on a quick shower in her draughty bathroom, a little make-up…

But rational thought evaporated when she lifted her hand to put her key to the lock. Splintered wood. Her whole body tightened and her blood drained into her legs.

While she’d been overnighting at Belle’s place someone had intruded on her sanctuary. The one place she should be able to feel safe. How long she stood there she didn’t know— listening for noises from within, hearing only her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

Gradually she became aware of other sounds. Down the hall the reassuring sound of Mrs Larson’s TV and, intermittently, Toby’s voice. Outside, city sounds. Inside…silence.

Scarcely aware that she was holding her breath, she reached out, fingers touching the scarred wood. The door opened with a light push. Keeping her gaze dead ahead, she felt for the switch to her left. Light flooded the room and spilled into the bathroom beyond. Empty. The one advantage to having a studio apartment was the ability to see everything in a single glance, she thought grimly, stepping inside and pushing the door closed behind her.

The inspection didn’t take long. Then she sat on her bed and started to laugh, a touch hysterically. The laugh was on them—financially challenged Ellie Rose had nothing of value to steal. But they’d obviously taken exception to the time and effort they’d wasted and left the contents of her fridge strewn over the floor.

She realised her hands were shaking and her throat was dry. Someone had touched her things, breathed the same air, invaded her space. Chills crawled over her flesh and down her spine. Grabbing her quilt, she tugged it around her, then almost as quickly pushed it away—irrational, but it felt dirty somehow and a chill shuddered down her spine. What if whoever-it-was had touched it? She felt violated and alone.

Jerking up, she paced to the kitchen sink, adrenaline and anger pumping through her body.

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