Stranger At My Door (A Murder In Texas) Read Online Free

okay here?”
    “I’m fine.” More water dripped from the ceiling.
    He hated to leave her alone in this dark, leaky old house, but she seemed hell bent on staying put, and he had a patrol to finish. “Better get yourself some buckets. We’re in for a wet night.”
    “Maybe I will as soon as you get out of here.”
    His good humor drained away. “There are a couple things we need to straighten out first. The fine for littering in El Royo is twenty-five dollars per item. Let’s see.” He pulled a small notebook from his shirt pocket. “We’ve retrieved forty-three flyers so far, which brings your fine to just over a thousand dollars. A thousand, seventy-five to be exact.”
    Her smart-ass attitude disappeared faster than his mother’s Sunday supper. Those intriguing green eyes grew round, and her mouth popped open. “Look, uh, Rafe, you can’t fine me. Please.”
    “Why is that?”
    She bent her head, and her ponytail slipped forward, exposing a long neck. “I’m broke right now.”
    Rafe’s annoyance eased. He’d made his point, but he wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. “Are you asking me to break the law?”
    Her head jerked up, and the pain he’d seen at the quarry filled her eyes.
    Why was he being such an ass? She was just a down-on-her-luck girl with an edge to her. But he knew why. Because she reminded him of Sam.
    Outside, lightning flashed through the trees followed by a crack of thunder. Rain fell from the sky in a steady stream and dribbled from the ceiling. Dinah Pittman had enough on her hands without him piling on. He took a step forward. “Look, I didn’t mean—”
    Crunch.
    The sound came from the kitchen. “What was that?” he asked.
    Her eyes widened, and she brought her face closer to his. “I dropped a cracker on the floor,” she whispered. “Someone or something just stepped on it.”
    He raised a finger and looked hard at her. “Stay here.”
    She had the brass to arch an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to use your gun this time?”
    Good question.
    He spun away from her. He’d been through enough of these old bungalows to know their layout. The kitchen would be across the entryway, behind the dining room. He switched off his flashlight and felt his way around the dining set.
    The kitchen door yawned like the gates of hell, and the day’s humid heat lingered at its threshold. He pushed his shoulder against the doorjamb and flattened himself against the wall. He should have his weapon drawn. His hand drifted down to his right hip. His throat squeezed, and a faint tremor started in his arm. God help him, he’d have to go in unarmed.
    He tightened his grip on the flashlight. The tension in the air dropped like a hundred-pound weight on his shoulders. Sweat ran down his forehead and blurred his vision. His damp undershirt clung to his chest. He inched his head close to the frame until he could see into the kitchen with one eye.
    Despite the heavy rain, a thin light from a neighboring house seeped through an open door. Framed against the screen was the slight figure of a teenager or maybe a small man, dressed for burglary in head-to-toe black. Rafe’s flashlight slipped in his sweaty fingers and tapped against the wall. The kid shifted. A hunting knife glittered in his gloved hand.
    “Rafe?” Dinah’s whisper came from close behind him.
    His throat constricted, and he struggled to breathe. What is she doing? I told her to stay put. He wouldn’t let anything happen to her, not like Sam. He waved Dinah back and felt her move. His breathing eased, and he risked another quick scan of the kitchen. The boy was creeping closer, one soundless step at a time.
    Dinah’s body heated his arm, and the scent of soap filled his nostrils. Puta madre. Then her mouth was at his ear.
    “Your gun.” She breathed the words into him.
    His hand groped for her shoulder and shoved her behind him roughly. He twisted and pushed his face into hers. Her eyes, wide and startled, stared at him,