December Frost (A Southern Romance Monthly) Read Online Free PDF Page A

this guy.  
    He'd managed get his gun up first and fire before the Phantom did, but before he could pull the trigger again, the man was gone. Thomas had stepped forward from his place of refuge and approached the statue. It was where it was supposed to be, but on the floor beside it was a suit jacket identical to his own.  
    So the guy had been moving among the guests before he came up here. And no one knew what he looked like.  
    He heard the sound of a zipper a second before the shot. Luckily he ducked in time as the glass case behind him shattered and the ceramic piece inside was destroyed. Thomas turned and caught sight of the hoodie and fired.  
    A noise behind him made him spin and he came face to face with Phantom.  
    The hoodie was still up, the jeans, and sneakers, all in place. But where a face should be, there was just one of those smooth, white masks. Thomas hated those things. The only thing he could see was the man's eyes.  
    But the shadows from the hoodie made it impossible to tell the color.  
    "You have failed again, Thomas Carr. This is good bye." The man ducked as Thomas fired.  
    And then he was gone behind one of the pedestals. The other door across the room was closing so he took off after it.  
    That's where she came in.  
    His gorgeous brunette in the black dress of his dreams. Only she had a gun. And a badge. And wow had she looked sexy. He had visions of using her handcuffs in so many interesting ways. But then as he came back to himself and realized his predicament in the back of the squad car—he doubted she'd even give him the time of day again.  
    Twenty minutes later he was walked upstairs and placed in a holding cell and handcuffed to a bench with six other questionable people. He figured…half an hour, tops.  
    Four hours later, with a numb ass and an irritated disposition, his arresting officer—Saxx something?—showed up and took him to a room with a table, two chairs, and a microphone. He was handcuffed to the table and left there.  
    Why was it taking so long for his employer to get him out?  
    After another half hour, a tall man in a suit and the hot Detective Inzmann stepped into the room and closed the door. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, and to his surprised, she eyed him as well.  
    Though…she was eying him like a piece of spoiled meat.  
    "I am Captain D, and you've already met Detective Inzmann."  
    Captain D? Was this guy for real?  
    "Mr. Thomas Carr, a.k.a. Jeffry Mason, a.k.a. Timothy Richter, a.k.a., The Phantom."  
    Thomas sat back and blinked several times. "My name is Thomas Carr. I've never gone by any of those names, and I am not the Phantom."  
    "Really?" The man sat down in a chair, but Inzmann leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn't wearing the dress anymore. She'd changed into jeans, a shirt and a killer bomber jacket. She looked even sexier covered up. "We found your suit jacket at the scene. And it had several passports in it, including one for Thomas Carr. All of them had your picture. It also contained an interesting flash drive. Cracking it wasn't easy, but we managed." He sat forward and clasped his fingers together. "We found your records, your notes, the numbers for your Swiss bank accounts. You've been a busy man, Mister Phantom. Seven thefts of priceless artwork in two years. And this is the first time you've ever been caught."  
    Thomas shook his head slowly. "No. I am not the Phantom. I was hired by a Professor Ludlum Taylor of Georgetown University to make sure the La petite fille de fleur wasn't stolen. He had intel that it was the Phantom's next target."  
    Captain D glanced back at Inzmann and the two of them shared a secret smile. "Mister Phantom, we contacted the Professor. He insists he's never heard of any Thomas Carr or the other names you've gone by. But he did tell us that an item was stolen from him by the Phantom. A painting worth a hundred million. And he's willing to file