J.A. Konrath / Jack Kilborn Trilogy - Three Scary Thriller Novels (Origin, The List, Haunted House)

Author:Konrath, J.A. & Kilborn, Jack [Konrath, J.A.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: General Fiction
Published: 2013-12-17T16:00:00+00:00

This was worse than being attacked.

Joan watched as Rod removed another listening device, the third, from the electrical outlet in her bedroom.

“I think that’s the last one.” The bodyguard got up from one knee and eyed the bug in his palm.

“How long do you think they’ve been here?”

“Hard to tell. Could have been a while. To be honest, I’ve never seen a device this high-tech before. I’ve done a lot of corporate work, rival companies stealing secrets and such, but this is a different league.”

Joan was sick. The thought that someone had been listening to her every word, her every private moment, was a violation unlike any she’d ever known.

“I know, it’s a shock. These are some real bad people.”

“I don’t even want to live in this house anymore.”

“A perfectly natural reaction. It will pass. Sometimes the truth is hard to take, but knowledge is power. We’re on to them.”

Joan didn’t feel empowered. She felt helpless.

“Maybe I should call Tom. He’s the one who told me to look.”

“Bad idea. He showed up at the same time all the trouble started. He also knows the man who attacked you. It’s likely he’s involved.”

“Then why would he tell me about the bugs?”

“To gain your trust. Believe me, I’ve seen it all in this line of work. Stay away from that one, he’s bad news.”

Joan glanced out the window, into her back yard. Earlier, she spotted Tom poking around through the woods behind her house. There was no sign of him now.

“So I can’t trust anyone anymore? How am I supposed to run a business?”

“Someone is trying to kill you, Ms. DeVilliers. You can still go about your day to day life, with some slight modifications. As for trust, the only person you need to trust is me. That’s the service you’re paying for. I’m a professional.”

No kidding. Joan had been with Rod for almost two hours now, and hadn’t seen him smile once. She had no doubts he was formidable—the man was tall, muscular, proficient in six different martial arts, a weapons expert, a former Green Beret, extremely expensive, and serious as cancer. But his presence felt more like an invasion than a relief.

“Your intruder bypassed the alarm panel by manually disarming the system. He probably hid somewhere in the backyard and got the code by watching you through the window. That was a bad place to put the keypad. The new system will be much harder to beat.”

Joan heard a beep. Her pager, in her purse on the kitchen counter. It was Marty—his home number, followed by 911. She picked up her phone and found it still wasn’t working.

“Can I borrow your phone? Mine’s in the car.”

“Sorry, I have to keep it free for emergencies.”

A glance at his face showed Joan he wasn’t kidding. Irritated, she went into the garage and got her cell phone.

“Marty, it’s Joan.”

“Joan? Is that you?”

Marty was breathy, seemed out of it.

“You sound terrible.”

“You remember, I had a checkup last week?”

“You did? What’s wrong?”

“I got the results. Joan, it’s bad.

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