Femme Fatale (Black Rose Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

is if the man she accused is actually guilty. Everything in me screams gold digger when I look at her, and I don’t understand why I feel so let down. Why am I feeling disappointed at the thought of Richard Roundtree being innocent? I know the reason is because I want the bond that will develop by working together with my husband. Maybe he’s right about the shadows lurking in my soul. He’s the only person who has ever been able to make me see myself for who I really am. If he knew this about me, though, it makes me wonder why he waited all these years to reveal this vigilante, who’s been hiding in obscurity within me. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the day would come when I’d be working with him to clean up the streets. I push the thoughts out of my head, just for the mere fact that my husband isn’t a man who can be figured out, not even by me. One thing is for sure; the agent who’s become intrigued with Black Rose certainly has his hands full. My husband is anything but an easy read.
    The woman we’re watching chats on her phone like she doesn’t have a care in the world as she pulls out of her driveway, unaware she is being followed by a killer. She appears oblivious to everything around her, busy enjoying the benefits only the privileged are accustomed to. Once again, I find myself hoping she hasn’t wrongfully accused Richard Roundtree. If she has, all of this will be for naught. Is she a gold digger? Is she merely a woman who saw an opportunity for advancement and used Richard’s high profile life against him? She strikes me as the kind of woman who wouldn’t hesitate to go for the jugular of a man who could give her the prestige only money can achieve. I’m not quite sure what it is about her that’s giving me that opinion, but I learned a long time ago to not question my instincts. Working in a hospital has taught me a hell of a lot about people in general. No matter what her motives were, by the time my husband and I get done stalking her and studying her habits, I’ll know more about the woman than she knows about herself. Even my husband acknowledges women pick up on things that men don’t see.



Chapter Eight
    The Killer
    Standing over her body, with nothing but the pale moonlight falling over her visage as she sleeps in the hospital bed, is an aphrodisiac like none other. Knowing I have been able to sneak into her room without anyone’s knowledge feeds the darkness in me. I reach down, taking the pillow that’s been thrown to the side. Her head is resting on just the mattress alone, and she has failed to lay the adjustable hospital bed down flat. I wonder why. Perhaps the narcotics running through the IV in her arm have put her to sleep before she could lower it. I reach over with my gloved hand and press the button to release the allotted amount of drug into her system. I don’t want her waking up as I smother her. I want it to appear as if she peacefully died in her sleep, not killed at the hands of a murderer. Though she is well aware of my kidnapping escapades, she has no idea she’s pissed off a very prolific serial killer.
    My fingers clench tightly around the pillow, and I begin the process of taking away her breath, killing off the only witness to my crimes.
    “Hey, what are you doing in here?!”
    The voice behind me startles me, but I make no movement. I lay the pillow down, grateful for my large frame that hid my intentions from the nurse who entered the room unaware.
    “I’m sorry.”
    I turn and smile at the nurse with short brown hair, who’s eyeing me with suspicion. I continue speaking in an effort to win her over with the same charm I use on my unsuspecting TV viewers.
    “My flight arrived late, and I just couldn’t wait to see how the patient is doing.”
    “Are you family? How do you know her?”
    “I host a local TV program, and I had her on as a guest. She volunteers for a local soup kitchen.”
    “Well… like I was saying, it’s way