Hunted Read Online Free PDF Page B

not a single wrinkle in the coverlet. He stepped to the bathroom, noticed immediately that her makeup case and toothbrush were missing. A sick feeling of dread took hold, smothering the flames of his anger. Pushing open the door to the walk-in closet, he held his breath and flipped on the light.
    A gap on one of the shelves caught his attention. There were several gaps in between the hangers on the rod next to it as well. He glanced up at the top shelf, noticed the largest of her suitcases was missing. Oh yeah, she was gone all right. And from the looks of it, not just for the weekend.
    Disappointment and betrayal warred inside him, along with a heaping of guilt. He’d made her run. He’d scared her away by being too forceful too soon. She was different than any of the other women he’d been with, more headstrong and confident. He’d known early on that she wouldn’t come to heel quickly or easily, which was half the reason he’d wanted her so bad. She was the only woman who’d ever stood up to him and held her ground, even knowing him and his reputation. What he was capable of. He loved that about her.
    But now she’d left him. Run from him with her mouthy brat who had caused all this in the first place.
    He’d teach her there was nowhere she could go that he couldn’t find her. And when he found her…
    He shut off the light and closed the closet door. If she came back he didn’t want her to know he’d been here. He couldn’t risk spooking her to bolt again before he caught her and taught her a lesson. No woman ever walked out on him.
    Locking the front door behind him, he let himself out back through the side gate, his attention snagging on the garbage can lid sitting askew next to the garage. Walking over, he lifted the lid, every muscle in his body going rigid when he saw the broken picture frames inside. Pictures of them together, the images obscured by the shatter marks in the glass. All from the fireplace, the few from her bedroom.
    The symbolism of it hit him in the chest with the force of a bullet. She’d not only run from him, she’d thrown them away.
    He dragged in a slow, deep breath to ease the pressure in his lungs, the fury choking him, and dug his phone out of his hip pocket. “She’s gone,” he said when Rick answered.
    “Sorry, man,” Rick said, sounding apologetic.
    Carlos swallowed past the thickness in his throat. “Trace her phone and find out where she is.”
    “Hang on.” The sound of fingers clacking on a keyboard came in the background.
    Carlos stood there waiting in the smothering heat, and even though his body was sweating, inside he was ice cold. His jaw tightened again as he stared down at the ruined photos.
    Tossing the lid aside, he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder and tied the black plastic bag shut with an angry tug, then yanked it from the can. He wasn’t leaving them here for anyone else to find. Later he’d come back and sweep the place for other personal stuff that might hint at his connection to Leticia, wiping any fingerprints and erasing himself from the house. DNA was a problem, but he had the resources and he’d call in a cleaning crew to scrub any evidence of his presence from the premises.
    There could be no proof left behind once he located and went after her.
    “You sure you put the tracker on her phone?” Rick asked.
    Carlos straightened, held the phone in his hand once more. “Yeah, why?”
    “It’s not working. Think she might have found it and disabled it?”
    “No.” He’d put it inside the SIM card slot himself when she wasn’t looking. “She might have ditched it and gotten a new one though. Trace her call records. Find out who she’s been talking to and where she called from. Call me back once you find something.” Jealousy, suspicion swirled in his mind. If she’d been calling one guy more than any other, he’d find out. If the guy had touched her, he was a dead man walking for touching what was his.
    Carrying the