Touch-Me-Not Read Online Free

driving right past,” said Casey.
    Victoria leaned forward. “The State Police cruiser is out front. Sergeant Smalley may need our help.”
    “I doubt it.” Casey pulled in next to the cruiser.
    Victoria opened the door and eased out. Sitting down, she appeared short, but when she stood up, she was just shy of six feet. Her height was in her long, still-fine legs.
    “I’ll go first, Victoria, just in case. You wait.”
    But Victoria followed close behind. Casey knocked briskly on the door. “Hello, everything okay?”
    Inside the shop, Victoria heard what sounded like a chair falling over.
    LeRoy Watts opened the door. His eyes darted from Victoria to Casey and back. “Mrs. Trumbull . . . Monday . . . ? The outlet . . . ?”
    “Monday’s fine,” said Victoria. “We were driving by and saw your lights on.”
    “I see the State Police vehicle is here,” said Casey.
    Sergeant Smalley stood up. “Social call, Chief. Stopped by on my way home. Some meeting, hey? Good speaker.”
    “Excellent. I didn’t realize stalkers can have more than one way of going after their prey, like the paparazzi who follow, phone, and photograph celebrities.”
    Victoria added, “And the fact that most stalkers are perfectly ordinary people otherwise.”
    LeRoy shifted his weight from one foot to the other and cleared his throat. “Smalley and I are having a nightcap. Can I offer you something?” He backed into the room and picked up the stool that had fallen over.
    “Not me,” said Casey. “Victoria?”
    Victoria was studying LeRoy. “No, thank you.”
    “Everything’s under control, then?” said Casey.
    “Thanks for stopping by.” LeRoy brushed his forehead with the back of his hand. “Good to know the Island’s law-enforcement officers are on their toes.”
    “Is there anything we can do before we leave?” Casey asked. “Sure you’re okay?”
    “No. No, yes. Thanks,” said LeRoy.
    Casey opened the door. “Guess we’ll be going, then.”
    “Thanks again,” said LeRoy. “See you Monday, Mrs. Trumbull.”
    “See you,” said Smalley, and resumed his seat.
    Back in the Bronco, Victoria said, “Something didn’t seem quite right.”
    “I agree.” Casey reversed out of the parking space and continued up Circuit Avenue. “Maybe because we caught Smalley drinking in uniform.”
    “It wasn’t that, I’m sure. There was an odd odor in the shop, not at all like electrical goods.”
    “You pick up on a lot of stuff I miss, Victoria,” said Casey. “But Oak Bluffs is out of our jurisdiction, as you well know. We’ve got enough to keep us busy in West Tiz.” She looked at her watch. “It’s late. I’ve got to get home.”

C HAPTER 4

    Earlier that evening, the mathematical knitters’ group had met at the West Tisbury Library. Eleven members were in the group altogether, but only eight were present this Thursday. Maron Andrews, the newest member, a honey blonde with wide-set brown eyes, had graduated from MIT at eighteen the previous June and was now doing graduate work in rock mechanics at the Oceanographic Institution in Woods Hole.
    She laid her knitting down, a fat figure eight that resembled a brain coral. “I can’t concentrate,” she said.
    “What’s the trouble?” asked Casper Martin, one of two male members of the group. “All those good-looking guys pestering you?” Casper himself was an attractive man in his late thirties with the broad shoulders of a swimmer and was wearing funky little round glasses.
    “Ha, ha,” Maron grunted. “Not funny.”
    “Sorry. I was trying to be complimentary.”
    “Well, it wasn’t.” She picked up her knitting.
    Jessica Gordon, a radiologist at the hospital, set her own work aside. “Come on, you two. I’ve got enough on my mind without your bickering.” Jessica was a nicely built redhead with a scattering of freckles across her nose.
    Casper pushed his glasses back into place and looked up. “Still having problems with your boyfriend,