Beware Read Online Free PDF

ties.
    He tugged open the back door. “Nobody there now,” he announced, and flung the door shut. “I’ll look around the back.”
    Lacey held out the revolver. “You’d better take this.”
    “Couldn’t hurt.” He took it, and started up the driveway toward the rear of the house.
    Lacey followed. “I’ll go with you.”
    He nodded.
    She hurried forward until she was beside him. “You’ve got to know, Cliff,” she whispered. “I think he’s a murderer.”
    “For real?”
    “I just came back from Hoffman’s Market. Elsie was killed there to night. So was Red Peterson.”
    Cliff’s heavy brows lowered. “Fella that offed Red’s dog?”
    “I guess so. I think he hid in my car when I left there.”
    “Maybe he high tailed it.”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Well, if he’s around here, we’ll get him.” Cliff grinned. “Save the taxpayers the expense of a trial.”
    They followed the driveway past the back of the house. Cliff stared ahead at the garage.
    “It’s padlocked,” Lacey said. “The laundry room’s open, though.”
    “Let’s have a look.”
    Walking near the front of the garage, Lacey scanned her yard, the lounge chairs and barbecue, the hedge along the far side.
    Cliff took her arm. He pushed her against the wall, close to the laundry room door. “Don’t move,” he whispered. He knelt in front of her. Reaching up, he slowly turned the knob. He threw open the door and leaned forward to peer in. Then he rose to his feet. He entered the laundry room, crouching. Lacey stepped in after him.
    “Do you want the light on?” she asked.
    “It’d wreck our night vision.”
    He went to the far end, then hurried back. Together, they cut across the yard. They walked singlefile through the narrow space between the side of the house and the hedge. Then he led her to the front door.
    “Any chance he got inside?”
    “No, I don’t…”
    Cliff opened the front door.
    “Oh no,” Lacey sighed. “I unlocked it just as you came along.”
    “I’d better have a look.”
    “Yeah, please. Damn, that was stupid.”
    They entered the house, and she locked the door. Cliff walked ahead of her, glancing behind furniture, lifting draperies. In the lamplight, his back was glossy. The band of his gray shorts was dark with sweat, and Lacey caught herself wondering what—if anything—he wore beneath them. She suddenly became very aware of her own nakedness inside her jeans and flimsy blouse, a body beaten, soiled by another man’s filth.
    She tried not to think about it.
    She followed Cliff around the dining room table, and into her bedroom. The lamp was still on, the nightstand drawer still open. She stood against the door frame, watching him. On the far side of the bed, he dropped to his knees and lifted the coverlet. Then he got to his feet again, and came back. His eyes met Lacey’s, and he smiled as if to reassure her. When he looked toward the closet, Lacey lowered her gaze. His chest was muscular, his belly flat. His shorts hung low on his hips. They fit snugly. She glimpsed his bulge, and quickly looked away, a warm thickness of revulsion in her stomach.
    He opened the closet door and looked inside.
    “So far,” he said, “so good.”
    Lacey backed out of the doorway. She followed him into the kitchen. He walked through, glancing to each side, ducking to peer under the heavy woodentable that barely fit into the breakfast nook, opening the utility closet door and shutting it again after a quick inspection. He checked the back door. Locked.
    Glancing at Lacey, he shook his head.
    He had, she realized, a dangerous face: deep-set, dark eyes, jutting cheekbones, thin lips, a blocky jaw. A somewhat handsome face, but not a face to inspire any special feeling of tenderness.
    He stepped past her, his arm brushing against her breast. She flinched away from the unwanted contact. Had he done it on purpose? Staying farther away from Cliff, she followed him around the corner and into her study. He walked