Alone in the Dark Read Online Free Page B

word,
    each letter breathlessly woven to the one before and the one after.

    Feeling the dog stiffen beside him, Brady looked down at his companion. The fur on King's
    back was standing up as he stared intently at the carrier. Had he not been as well trained
    as he was, Brady was sure the animal would have gone after the cat, carrier or no carrier.
    The cat obviously sensed it, too. Hissing noises began to emerge from the carrier.

    In contrast to King, Patience's dog seemed bored and trotted over to the far corner to
    catch a nap beneath the rays of the early morning sun.

    Taking a firm hold of King's leash, Brady spared Patience one last look.

    "Report it," he told her much in the same voice that he used on King when he verbalized
    his commands.

    "I'll handle it," Patience repeated firmly. She turned her attention to the frantic older woman. Work was the best thing for her right now. "Right this way, Mrs. Mahoney. As it
    happens, my first patient of the day isn't here yet."

    And neither was her receptionist, she added silently. But then, Shirley had a very loose
    concept of time. Too bad. The young woman had a crush on Brady that was evident to
    everyone but the man himself. Shirley was going to regret not being here a tad early this
    morning.

    Patience turned to look back at Brady and mouthed, "Thank you" before she disappeared.

    She could thank him all she wanted, Brady thought as he exited the clinic. In reality, he
    hadn't done anything. Doing something was up to her. He unlocked his car. The hell with it,
    this was her business, not his.

    Holding the door open, he gave King a nod. The dog jumped into the back seat.

    "Not our concern, boy," Brady said as he got behind the steering wheel.

    He placed his key in the ignition. Glancing up into the rearview mirror, he could see King
    staring at him. Brady tried not to read anything into the intent brown eyes, but the dog
    seemed to be saying that he was wrong, that she was their concern. Because they knew
    her.

    Brady sighed. King always had a way of setting him straight. But this time, the dog was
    wrong. Couldn't help someone who wouldn't help themselves. He'd learned that a long time
    ago.

    It had been one hell of a long day from start to finish. A bad night's sleep didn't help
    matters. Not that he ever really got a good night's sleep. His sleep pattern would have
    sent any self-respecting hospital-affiliated sleep clinic into a tailspin. He amassed his sleep
    in snatches, never getting more than a couple hours at a clip, usually less. Each night
    turned into a patchwork quilt of sleep and wakefulness.

    The trouble was that he couldn't shut off his mind, couldn't find peace even in repose.
    Half the time he dreamed of what he had experienced during the course of the day or,
    more than likely, during his earlier years.

    He supposed, in comparison to that time period, anything he experienced now was a
    cakewalk, even if he did deal with the scum of the earth at times. At least he had the
    consolation of knowing that he was ridding the world of vermin, making it safer for people
    inAurora, people like Patience Cavanaugh, to sleep at night.

    Contributing to the restlessness he now felt was the fact that Dr. Patience Cavanaugh
    hadn't been off his mind for more than thirty minutes at a stretch. Usually less. He just
    wasn't comfortable about her lack of action with this stalker thing.

    The first free minute he'd had, he'd deliberately investigated if any new stalker
    complaints had been filed today. They hadn't. Big surprise. Maybe she'd turned to
    someone in her family with the problem. No, he had a bead on her. For all her friendliness,
    all her vibrancy, Patience Cavanaugh was stubborn and independent like the rest of the
    Cavanaughs. That meant that she didn't relish appearing as if she were vulnerable, as if
    she couldn't take care of whatever was going on in her life all by herself.

    "Still not our problem," he told the dog that went home with him every