Deathwatch Read Online Free PDF Page A

out of her sight.  
    He flicked on lights as he went. She noted the trail of clothes on the hardwood floor in the hallway, then the duffel bag that stood where he’d said it would be, next to the small hall table that held her keys and the junk mail. He reached into the bag, rifled around for a few seconds and pulled out a beat-up wallet, held it open for her.
    She inched closer, tightening her fingers on the gun. He sure took up a lot of space. Seemed even bigger up close and personal. She inspected his driver’s license and military I.D. The picture matched, a younger version, but definitely him. Murphy Dolan, the address the same as where she was living.
    He wasn’t the hit man who was hunting her, and it didn't look like he was some serial killer slash rapist fresh out of prison either.
    She backed into the kitchen, collapsed into the nearest chair, then set the gun on the table as her hands began shaking. “I’m sorry. You scared me.”
    “ No harm done. You didn’t shoot.” His masculine lips twisted into a wry smile.  
    “ I could have.” Her stomach clenched. She could have killed an innocent man.  
    “ Chances were slim. You're not a professional, and you don't look like some gung ho hothead. Professionals shoot before the target has time to think about it. Hothead amateurs shoot before they have time to think. You took the time to scream before you went for the gun, then you gave me time to explain myself.”  
    He crooked a dark eyebrow. “On the other hand, if I meant to harm you, you’d be dead. Something to remember for when you're in trouble for real. Don’t give ‘em a chance to get you.”
    He might have said more, but the sound of sirens cut him off, a police cruiser flying up the street.
    Cold sweat beaded on her back. She shouldn’t have rushed to make that 911 call. No cops was her motto, pretty much. Her fake driver’s license, obtained when she’d lived in a college dorm for two months, posing as a student, was okay for everyday use, but it might not stand up to scrutiny.  
    “ I did rent this place. From your brother. I swear.” Not that she had an official rental agreement.  
    She’d met Doug at Finnegan’s, Broslin’s pretty little Irish pub, while scouting the town. Her need for an available place had come up, he offered, and she took the house. The price was right and Doug wasn’t the type to insist on credit checks and references, or formal contracts for that matter.
    She gathered herself and straightened her spine. “I just got a new job in town. I’m definitely going to need to keep this place.”
    “ We’ll talk about that in a minute.” Murphy Dolan stepped into his boots. “I’ll be right back.” Then he walked outside, all muscle and power like some medieval warrior, heaven help her.  
    She slumped back in the chair as the door closed behind him. Without a rental agreement, if Doug couldn’t be found or decided not to back up her story, she was nothing but a squatter. She could be arrested for breaking and entering. And if the police ran a background check on her…God, she’d be so busted.
    She dug into the fruit bowl on the table and pulled a small foil packet of chocolate from the bottom. She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth. One, if eating chocolate at two o'clock in the morning was wrong, she didn’t want to be right. Two, emergencies were emergencies, right?
    ‘ Keep hiding, stay alive,’ had been working for her pretty well so far. The FBI was hunting Asael. Someday either the agents or one of the hit man’s enemies would catch up with him. A professional assassin had to have a few. Then she could return home to her family. All she had to do was keep running until then, trust no one and let no one find out her secret.  
    The last of the chocolate melted on her tongue as she pushed to her feet and moved to the window to watch the two men outside. She stood still, even as her instincts screamed to pack fast and run now, disappear out