Deep in the Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

her. She began to shake. And because the fear had returned, it made her answer sharper than she’d intended.
    “Hell yes, Johnny! They saw it. They saw it all.”
    “Then why didn’t they act on it?”
    “Because ultimately, they decided it was a put-up job. That I was faking my own threats for some unnamed reason.”
    “Why would they think that?”
    She wilted before his eyes, and he had an unreasonable urge to comfort her. But he stayed the thought. He needed to get to the bottom of the story, and emotion would just get in the way.
    “Because all of the early calls could be traced to a phone in an empty apartment taken out in my name, and most of the letters were typed on the typewriter in my office, that’s why,” she said. “Before you ask, I have no explanation as to how that could be. I damn sure didn’t write them to myself.” She started to shake. “And I’m not crazy. Do you hear me, Johnny? I’m not!”
    He shoved his fingers through his hair, ruffling the even black lengths into wild disarray. Once again, he resisted the urge to touch her. She seemed so desperate and so small.
    His lips narrowed into a hard, thin line. “But I still don’t get it. What the hell are you doing with the actual clues to your case? They should be on file as evidence. It should have been checked for fingerprints, possible sources of—”
    “It was. According to the detective in charge, they doubt that the threats were valid. No one ever made a move to harm me physically. I never saw anyone. And they’d checked and ruled out practically everyone I’ve ever met as a possible suspect. All that did was enforce their belief that I’d created the monster who was after me all by myself. When they suggested I see a psychiatrist, I got angry and demanded it all back.”
    “And they handed it over, just like that?”
    She laughed harshly; the bitterness in her voice was unmistakable as she continued. “Why not? After all, it wouldn’t be the first time someone in Hollywood staged a stunt to promote themselves. Remember, Johnny, this is the land of make-believe. This is California, home of Disneyland, of Hollywood, of Sunset and Vine, and Rodeo Drive. This is where the Peter Pans of the world come to stay. Don’t you know that, Johnny? Don’t you…” Tears poured down her cheeks, but her anger was alive. It was the first time since his arrival that he’d seen even a glimmer of the old Sam he once knew.
    “Stop! Dammit to hell, stop it, Sam! I wasn’t blaming you.” He grabbed her by the arms and shook her, rougher than he’d intended. His voice softened as he slowly released his grip and cupped his hand against her cheek instead. “I wasn’t blaming you.”
    “Well they did,” she said, and yanked away from his touch. She couldn’t let his sympathy envelop her as much as she wanted or she’d never get a grip on reality again. It would be too easy to just let go in the presence of someone stronger than herself.
    “What’s the detective’s name? Who was in charge of your case?” he asked.
    “Pulaski. Mike Pulaski.”
    “Get your purse,” he ordered.
    “Where are we going now?”
    “LAPD. To pay a visit to Detective Pulaski. He’s going to tell me what he told you. And I can promise you, Sam, when we leave, I’ll have answers.”
    She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “We’d better call a cab.”
    “Hell, no,” he said, remembering his last cab ride in L.A. “We’ll take your car.”
    She nodded. “The police station is a long way from here. I haven’t driven much since all this began because I didn’t want to be caught out alone in the car.”
    “Give me the keys. You point, I’ll steer. I’m not getting in another damned cab again.”
    In spite of her fears, in spite of the knot in the pit of her stomach, she smiled.

    The room at the police station was just as Samantha remembered. Rows of desks decorated with everything from stacks of files to three-day-old cups of coffee.