Cheyenne McCray - Point Blank (Lawmen Book 4) Read Online Free PDF Page A

giving out and her car flying off the parking area and onto the houses below.
    She parked in front of the old railroad ties in the parking area designated for her and her neighbor, with a little room left over for any guests they might have. After she set the parking brake and turned off the car, she grabbed her purse, locked the Beetle, and jogged down the set of concrete stairs to her home’s kitchen door.
    The house had been built on the mountainside over seventy years ago, and strangely enough, it didn’t have a front entrance. One door led into her kitchen, and the second door was off of one of the bedrooms. It was a bit of an odd house on a weird-shaped lot, but she loved it.
    It was much warmer inside her home, and she shed her jacket. She retrieved the mail from her purse and hung the yellow cloth bag on the back of a chair.
    One of her least favorite things to do was cook, so she threw together a salad. She’d been a vegetarian since high school, much to the distress of her meat-loving family. She’d considered going vegan, but didn’t have a problem with cheese, milk, and eggs. However, they had to come from organic farms.
    She took her salad and a glass of ice water, along with her mail, and sat on the colorful Bohemian chair in her living room.
    The chair was near one of her favorite mixed media pieces. The artist had named the framed art “Explosion of Butterflies” and that was what it looked like. A countless number of the small creatures in brilliant colors shot upward to the yellow-tinted sky.
    She settled her glass on the round solid mango wood table. While she munched on her salad, she flipped through her mail and tossed it a piece at a time onto the table. Advertisement, advertisement, advertisement—she hated the use of paper spam. In this day and age no one should be chopping down trees when electronic mail was so much easier and efficient, and saved paper.
    She paused and set her salad bowl on the table when she reached the last piece of mail, an envelope with her name hand printed in blue ink, a cancelled first class stamp in the upper right hand corner. No return address. Who mailed real letters in this day and age?
    Not one for being patient enough to get a letter opener off the desk in her spare bedroom, she tore off one end of the envelope. She pulled out a folded sheet of plain white paper with a handwritten note in bold blue print.
    She scanned the note and her mind swam. She blinked, unable to believe what she was reading. She felt like her head might float off.
    Natasha,
    I have no choice but to be cryptic in this message, in case the letter falls into the wrong hands.
    No matter what happens, do as you are told. Do not involve law enforcement of any kind, including family members and friends.
    This means especially Trace and Christie. If you tell them, their lives, and the life of their daughter, will be in danger.
    This is not a prank or a joke. You are in a deadly serious situation, even though you do not know it. If something happens at one of your tradeshows, remember what I have told you.
    Your life depends on it.
    A friend
     
    Natasha swallowed hard as the paper shook. It took a moment to realize her hands were trembling.
    Your life depends on it.
    She took a deep breath and gathered herself. No matter what the note said, this had to be some kind of sick prank.
    Yet she couldn’t shake it off. Why would someone send her a note like this?
    The letter slipped from her now cold fingers, onto the tabletop. She pushed her salad away and read the message over and over again. The more she read it, the tighter her chest became. She wanted to show it to Trace, but the message had warned her against it.
    This couldn’t be real.
    But what if it was?
    She bit down on her tongue, as if that would keep her from spilling a word about the letter. She should go straight to the Bisbee Police Department and show them the message.
    What if it was true? The question kept peppering her mind. What if