Call Me Killer

Call Me Killer Read Online Free PDF

Book: Call Me Killer Read Online Free PDF
Author: Linda Barlow
Tags: Romance
cell phone in my backpack, and recalled the dramatic gesture of taking it apart. Ok, good for me. My phone was untraceable now and my computer, assuming I got it back, was as secure and well-cloaked a device as anything connected to the net could be.
    I wondered if Griff would let me stay.
    And what he’d expect in return.
    I sat down at his desktop computer. It was password-protected, so I already had a problem to solve. I threw myself into it.
    As I'd expected, his security was trivial. Took me a little longer than average to work out his password, especially since I didn't have any fancy tools with me, but I got it eventually. It wouldn’t take me long to improve his security—that was one thing I could do for him in return for saving my ass last night.
    While downloading some useful utilities, I made a quick search of his files. I wasn't planning to snoop; I just wanted to make sure he wasn't a child pornographer or something skeezy like that. Or a misogynous asshole troll. I didn't think so, because he’d seemed nice and he’d treated me with respect despite the condition he’d found me in.
    Well, maybe not respect, exactly, but with tolerance.
    Still, you never knew. If there were any nasty surprises waiting for me here, I wanted to know about them right from the start.
    And, holy shit, I sure didn't expect the surprise I found.
    Jeremiah Griffon O’Malley had killed his former girlfriend.

     

Chapter 5
     
    Rory
     
    Shit. Had I dived into the deep end, after all?
    I was so surprised that I started to laugh. Had I really run away from a guy with the shovel and a shotgun only to end up in the lair of a serial killer?
    I almost fled, despite not having my laptop.
    He hadn’t seemed like a killer.
    Yeah, right, how did I know how a killer behaved?
    Would a murderer pick up a stray and offer her food, a bed and a shower?
    Maybe, if she was his next victim.
    But I’d been alone with him all night, and nothing awful had happened to me.
    Maybe he preferred to do his killing after a good night’s sleep.
    I leaned my elbows on the computer table and thought about it.
    I couldn’t claim to be a good judge of people. At least, I didn’t always pick up on the way they were trying to behave. I was pretty empathetic, with a good sense for what others were feeling, as long as their faces or eyes gave some indication.
    But some folks were good at hiding their true selves. Talented actors were hard for me to fathom and I’d grown up surrounded by some very gifted actors. I’d been fooled by them more often than I liked to admit.
    I ought to be more socially adept than I am. My family was full of charismatic extraverts, but I was the odd duck who hadn’t inherited the people-pleaser gene. Nor did I get the height, the perfect body or the shining hair and eyes of my siblings.
    I did end up with the brainy gene, but that had turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing. Sure, it had gotten me into college and given me useful skills like math and computer science, but my high school years had been pure misery. No boys would date me. I was voted Most Likely to Grow Old In My Mom’s Basement. I’d had a mad crush on the quarterback of the football team, but the only awkward fumbling sex I’d had in high school was with the treasurer of the Chess Club.
    I didn’t think my brains were going to help me much in this situation. Logic told me I shouldn’t stick with a man who was the only suspect in his girlfriend’s disappearance. Because odds were, he’d killed her. It was usually the husband or the boyfriend, right?
    On the other hand, if they’d been able to prove it, he’d be locked up.
    My head was aching again.
    Was the dude I’d met last night smart enough to commit murder and get away with it? Not many people were.
    He’d given me peanut butter. Hot coffee. Dry clothes. A safe place to sleep.
    What if he was innocent?
    I don’t know exactly why, but that idea seemed to punch me directly in the chest. In the
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