Agent with a History Read Online Free PDF

it.
    So it hadn’t all been a dream. My strange
encounter with a murder suspect had really happened last night. He
wasn’t the murderer, I knew that, but he was involved in some way.
I needed to find out how.
    The sun showed more writing on the card and I
turned it over and read in a bold cursive script, ‘PS, if you need
a safe place to run to for shelter go to this address. The door
locks automatically so don’t freak out when it does. Again, a
onetime only use.’ The address was listed below.
    I got up feeling very much like a new person,
although my cheek was sore, as well as my rib cage, where I’d taken
an elbow. I went to the bathroom and lit a match to burn the card,
having already memorized its contents.
    He’d said I was a good cop. I wasn’t so sure,
seeing as how I was currently destroying evidence. I watched the
cursive writing on the back burn to ash in the sink. Then it hit
me. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a safe house last night,
just a phone number. Which meant what?
    I walked past my bed to the open living room
beyond. The pillow at the one end of my couch had a dent in it!
He’d come back, why? One of my kitchen chairs was missing and I
glanced over at the door to see it sitting beside it ready for use.
He hadn’t wanted me to be here alone without the chair in
place!
    My stomach rumbled reminding me of how long
it had been since I had really eaten something. I went to my small
kitchen. The first thing I noticed were the dirty dishes in my
sink. He had eaten breakfast in my apartment!
    I opened the refrigerator; there was a glass
of orange juice already poured sitting on the top rack with a
sticky note on it that had an arrow pointing toward the stove. I
picked up the glass and cautiously opened the stove. A small oven
dish sat there. I pulled it out. He’d made some kind of a breakfast
egg quiche it looked like. It was still warm.
    I stood there looking at the baking dish in
my hand in a state of profound shock. Why? He’d come to warn me,
and I think he was entirely on the level when he had done that, but
why all of this? The answer was there even though I didn’t want to
acknowledge it. He must like me was the simplest answer. I wasn’t
sure I was ready for that kind of relationship, if I’d ever be
ready, and beyond that he was a suspect in a murder investigation.
Not exactly boyfriend material. Even if he wasn’t the murderer, he
was waist deep in something highly illegal. And yet why, even after
considering all the facts against the man, had I known yesterday
when I saw the sketch that this man was going to profoundly change
my life.
    I glanced at the clock. It was going on
twelve. I had to get out of here! I sat down and ate, then got
ready for the day in a hurry.
    As I stepped up to the door I saw that
cooking breakfast wasn’t the only thing he had done. He had
switched out my door lock and replaced the deadbolt. A key for each
sat on the chair by the door, which meant that he had the duplicate
keys. Somehow that didn’t bother me as much as it should have.
    I picked the keys up and stepped outside and
locked the door. I let my head fall forward against the door. I had
burned a sample of his writing and he had no doubt left finger
prints all over my apartment, but was I calling anyone to report
it, no.
    How would I explain why he’d spent the night
in my room anyway? It was too embarrassing to even contemplate. He
had been wrong. I was a terrible cop, at least where he was
concerned.
    Old Mrs. Thachet came out of her apartment
two doors down and when she saw me her face lit up and she gave me
two thumbs up. My face completely flushed, she must have seen him!
I tried to hurry past, but she reached out and snagged my arm. What
must she be thinking?
    “So nice to see you settling down dear, but
remember,” she tapped her wedding ring. “This first and then…...”
She patted my stomach with a knowing nod, as her voice trailed
off.
    My face felt like it was about to