ChasingShadows Read Online Free PDF

for her to think
or to see everything a perpetrator did while in an excited state, when his
transference was the strongest. But it was rare that she felt his emotions,
felt what he felt. This man reached out to her in all ways possible ¾ the strongest psychic connection. She didn’t
like it one bit. Fear chilled her thoroughly, and she pulled the comforter over
her.
    Juliana wished she could determine the kidnapper’s identity,
but the puzzle pieces only trickled into her mind. At least she could appease
herself with the fact that consistency patterned her premonitions and visions.
She‘d eventually dream enough to ID him.
    An unwelcome thought surfaced, and she rolled on her side to
the edge of the bed. Pushing her hand past the bed skirt, she groped on the
floor until she felt cold, hard steel. She pulled the gun out from under the
bed and examined the .38 revolver. It was loaded, safety catch on. Frowning,
she returned the weapon to its hiding place.
    She exhaled deeply, expelling the taint from inside. She
hated guns, hated the reasons she possessed one.
    * * * * *
    The phone’s jarring ring scarcely registered in Alex’s
brain. As much as he willed it, the sound refused to stop. His head throbbed
and lava spread through his gut.
    Three beers and a night obsessing about Juliana had reduced
Alex to shambles.
    Muttering, he fumbled for the cordless phone on the
nightstand, knocking the lamp against the wall. “Shit,” he groaned. His mouth
tasted like sawdust, his throat scratchy.
    He grabbed a bottle of antacids from the nightstand and
dumped a couple in his mouth. The phone continued to ring until he finally
clicked it on. The antacid bottle dropped out of his uncooperative hand. He
cursed as the multicolored tablets scattered across discarded clothes carpeting
the floor.
    “Better be damn good,” he managed to say between bites of
the bone-dry tablets.
    “Alex?” a familiar high-pitched female voice questioned.
    Gravity pulled at his lethargic muscles and his arm refused
to cooperate with his brain. “Yeah?” Alex reclined back on the bed and wedged
the phone between the pillow and his ear.
    “It’s Sharon Douglas.” Urgency vibrated in her voice. “You
need to get over here. Lisette’s missing. Andrea—”
    The words shoved Alex fully awake. He leaped from the
disheveled bed, stumbling on a pair of jeans pooled on the floor. He caught the
nightstand with his free hand, preventing a head-first crash into the wall.
    “What do you mean, missing?” Cold iron edged his words as
terror gripped him. He grabbed his rumpled pants and pulled them on one-handed.
    “Andrea woke up this morning and found Lisette’s bed empty
and her window wide open. Matthew and I heard her screaming and rushed over.”
    The last vestiges of sluggishness cleared from Alex’s mind. Andrea’s
hysterical crying in the background on Sharon’s end nearly crushed him. With
fierce determination, he forced the experienced cop in him to take over and
grab the reins.
    “Listen to me, Sharon,” he said in a level, authoritative
voice. “Don’t let anyone inside the house or backyard. Stay out of Lisette’s
bedroom. Don’t call anyone. Can you stay with Andrea until I get there?” He
waited for her affirmative response, then flung the phone on the bed and
shouted for James.
    “I’m up, man.” James sauntered out of the bathroom, hair wet
and a towel wrapped around his waist. “You look like shit.” He laughed, but
stopped when he caught sight of Alex’s grim expression. “What—”
    “Lisette’s gone.” Alex snatched a clean black polo shirt off
the top of his laundry basket, not bothering to waste time dressing in his usual
suit and tie.
    Color drained from James’ face. “What?”
    Alex wasn’t going to sugar-coat it, knowing that James
harbored a crush on Alex’s widowed sister and loved Lisette perhaps as much as
Alex himself did. He seized his service revolver tucked in its holster from the
headboard