Deadly Intentions Read Online Free Page A

pointed, her hand shaking.
    â€œAnybody in there?”
    â€œShe’s dead! Oh my God. She’s dead. The kitchen . . .”
    Brian didn’t need to ask who.
    â€œAnybody else in there?”
    â€œNo, my . . . I don’t know,” the woman stammered.
    Brian quickly moved her to the side and cautiously went inside.
    â€œStay with her,” he told the cabbie.
    â€œI got your back, man.”
    â€œStay with her,” he repeated.
    Inside he listened for movement but found silence. Nothing in the hall, the living room or dining room. Then he moved to the kitchen, rushed across the room, seeing nothing, no one. He glanced out a side window, then a window facing the back of the house....
    Harriet was lying on the back deck in a pool of blood.

    Brian dialed the police and reported the incident. Then he glanced around searching for clues. Judging by the bullet hole, he guessed Harriet had been shot with a .45. No bullet casings. “This wasn’t done by an amateur,” he murmured, continuing to glance around. The paintings were still on the walls. TV, computer, and stereo. Even an iPod his grandfather never used. Items thieves fenced.
    What were they looking for? Did they find it? Had Harriet interrupted them? Her body was still warm. Brian estimated it happened within the last hour.
    He briefly looked through the rest of the house. No broken windows. Had she let her killer into the house? Did she know him? Nothing obvious was stolen.
    He returned to the deck. There was a card on the floor near the back door. He picked it up by the edge. Ocean Wave Motel. He placed it back on the floor.
    Finally he heard sirens. By the time the police arrived, he was standing on the front steps. He glanced at the cleaning woman. She was near her car pacing and smoking a cigarette.
    He had to keep her here long enough to have a talk with her. Brian made his way down the steep steps toward her.

4
    Lisa’s face hurt like hell. He could have found another way to get my attention . She glared at him with mixed feelings of regret and anger. Obviously in pain, he was leaning hard on the cane. If he wasn’t already looking near death’s door, she’d knock the hell out of him.
    That poor woman. Lisa was so distraught over finding Harriet’s body, the bowl had flown right out of her mind. Now she wondered if the thieves had taken it—if that was the purpose for breaking into this particular house.
    The bowl wasn’t worth all the lives that had been lost. At least three people were dead and if it was the reason for Harriet’s death, the number climbed to four. It was just an antique bowl with meaning to her family more for the length of time they’d owned it than any monetary value.
    She puffed on a cigarette she’d bummed from the cab driver. He’d offered her one, but she’d shook out several into her hands. She had quit smoking, but in a situation like this nothing else would calm her nerves. No way could she get her hands on a drink. She took a long satisfying drag.
    She also wondered what she should say to the police—if she should even mention the bowl. But she wasn’t a hundred percent certain it was there. She was going on a hunch.
    Lisa leaned against the hood of the car. She’d been waiting for two hours. Finally, the man she’d plowed over at the door limped down the steps to her. She’d already been questioned by the police, but the guy—he said his name was Brian Knight—told her he wanted to talk to her after the police left. The cab driver had left ages ago, and Lisa admired the play of muscles in Brian’s shoulders and arms. Jesus, he was definitely well-built. She wanted to reach out and touch. She tore her gaze away. He was trouble with a capital T.
    Brian threw his bag into the backseat of her car as if he had a right to. “I need a ride,” he said before he shut the door and climbed into the front passenger seat.