Cat Got Your Tongue? Read Online Free Page A

his workload. Tired, he could handle. The restlessness and agitation unnerved him.
    Bored.
    Before he could process that fleeting thought, the car alarm stopped its annoying shrill and the street fell quiet again.
    Relieved, he stifled another yawn and shuffled his way back to bed, but came to an abrupt stop when the bright red light flashing on the alarm keypad caught his eye.
    The silent alarm had been triggered.
    Damn.
    Instantly alert, he took three quick strides to the bedroom door. Heart beating rapidly in his chest, he quietly opened it and listened for any signs of an intruder.
    Silence.
    He slipped quietly into the hallway and crept downstairs, glancing into every room he passed. The house was eerily silent and in complete darkness but nothing seemed disturbed.
    False alarm?
    With a frown, he turned toward the stairs and made a mental note to have Charles test the alarm in the morning.
    A soft thud from the library had him pausing at the bottom of the stairs. His heartbeat quickened and tilting his head, he pinned the door with a fierce stare.
    The first thing Cole saw as he pushed open the door of the darkened library was the shadow skulking at the back of the room.
    The Renoir.
    Before he could consider slipping out unnoticed and letting the cops handle it, blind rage swept through him and he slammed on the light. The room remained in darkness, the main power supply for the lights on the bottom floor disabled, but the sound was enough to alert the intruder to his presence.
    “What are you doing in my house?” Cole growled. Every nerve ending in his body was at attention and his heartbeat screamed against his chest.
    “Back off, Anderson.” The startled voice belonged to a man.
    A cat burglar. “How do you know my name?”
    “I said back off. Now.”
    “Get the hell out of my house.”
    The sound of a gun being loaded filled the brief pause. “If you play this smart, I might not have to shoot you.” The cat burglar nudged the gun toward the corner of the library. “Move over there.”
    Shit, shit, shit. Why hadn’t he thought of retrieving his gun before deciding to play Detective Clousseau? And where were the damn cops? A fierce combination of adrenaline and anger surged through his body, sending all his senses into overdrive. “Be cool.”
    “Shut up. Turn around.”
    “Not on your life.”
    The cat had one hand on the gun and the other on the wrapped Renoir. Realizing that he was about to lose either the Renoir or his life, Cole’s mind began spinning.
    “Be smart, Anderson. I won’t hesitate to shoot.”
    Cole’s shoulders heaved more so from anger than from fear. “I will hunt you down, you thieving piece of crap.”
    His words seemed to aggravate the thief who struggled with the weight of the Renoir. Although the gun didn’t waver, the cat looked away for a brief second but that’s all it took for Cole to charge forward, knocking him off his feet.
    The gun went off as it fell to the ground and both men froze for the briefest of moments, staring at each other in the darkness. In sudden unison, there was a mad scramble for the weapon but the cat was closer. He grabbed it and whirled toward Cole who stood in the doorway of the library.
    Cole’s stomach lurched as he realized the cat’s intentions and he backed into the hallway.
    Without a sound, the thief raised an arm, took aim, and pulled the trigger.
    The air was smacked out of Cole’s lungs a split second before the gun went off as a force came out of nowhere and shoved him hard, pushing him to the ground and out of the aim of gunfire.
    A quick scuffle of feet and the cat was gone; leaving Cole sprawled on the floor beneath a heavy weight.
    What the hell?
    “Who the hell are you?” he growled into the darkness and shoved against the weight, his fist connecting with flesh and bone.
    He heard the sharp intake of breath as the intruder rolled off him and straightened in a swift, smooth motion.
    “Open up! Police!” a voice bellowed