The Witness (Harlequin Super Romance) by Style Linda

Author:Style, Linda [Style, Linda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2012-01-17T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

ALEX DROPPED CRISTA off at the Travis Street entrance of the HPD, and she got the distinct feeling that he wanted to lecture her about taking time to have a little fun instead of working so much. But he kept his opinions to himself. Good boy.

As soon as he drove off, she tucked her chin and hurried the six blocks to her Jeep hoping none of her colleagues drove by and saw her.

The walk was invigorating and it gave her time to process some of the information from the boys who worked for Alex, spare as it was. She felt a couple of them knew more than they had said. And now that she’d been there, she might be able to go back and talk to them again—without Alex. While Alex thought they’d be more comfortable with him there, she knew the reverse could be true.

The boys revered and respected Alex, and if any of them had information, they might not say so in front of him because he might think less of them.

The ride home seemed longer than ever and she felt a sense of relief when she pulled into the parking lot. It had been a long day, and she was both mentally and physically exhausted. She hadn’t felt that way for years.

She went inside and trudged up the stairs, each step an effort. Almost to the third floor, she noticed the hallway light was out. Her pulse accelerated. She glanced around, her gaze circling, scanning. The shadowy halls were eerily quiet, but nothing seemed out of place. When she was tired, she sometimes overreacted.

As she continued toward her apartment, she fished in her purse for her key. At the door, her breath caught. It was open a fraction of an inch.

Without flinching, Crista drew her gun and flattened her back against the wall, listening. Nothing. She glanced at the lock and the door frame. No evidence of a break-in. Inching the door open with her toe, she reached inside and switched on the light. Waiting, she heard nothing but the hum of the fluorescent light. She kicked open the door, making as much racket as possible—a police tactic used to intimidate and scare the hell out of anyone who didn’t expect it. Gun raised, she edged inside.

Her gaze shot first to the right and then to the left. Nothing. Had the caretaker come in for something and forgotten to close the door when he left? What reason would he have for coming inside? She eased her way from the living room into the kitchen. Nothing out of place there, either. Still skirting the wall, she crept down the hall toward her bedroom, stood out of range beside the door and shouted, “Don’t move or you’re a dead man!”

Still nothing. Slowly, cautiously, she placed one foot in front of the other and entered the room, gun poised for action.

Everything was exactly as she’d left it. Weird. Just plain weird. She went back to the living room, double-locked the door and stood with her back against the wall.

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