No One Lives Twice (A Lexi Carmichael Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

gun and I didn’t like it much.
    Slowly he removed his hand from my mouth and I half fell, half sat on the couch. I got my first clear look at my attacker thanks to the moonlight streaming in through the window and saw dark hair and dark clothing. I didn’t recognize him. But the soft accent I heard when he spoke made me pretty sure he was of Middle Eastern descent. Moonlight also glinted off the steel barrel of the gun he pointed at my chest.
    “Where are the papers?”
    “Papers?” I squeaked.
    He shoved the gun into my chest, painfully squishing one of my breasts. “Don’t play dumb with me.”
    Like I had to play at it.
    “Answer me,” he demanded. “I know she sent them to you.”
    She? As in Basia? Oh, God, I thought, my heart hammering. What in the world had she become involved in?
    “Look,” I said as calmly as I could, given the fact that my nipple was in imminent danger of being blown off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Perhaps if you could be a little less cryptic it would help.”
    “Basia Kowalski,” he growled. “Is that clear enough?”
    I considered for a moment. “Yes,” I said. “Actually, that’s quite clear.”
    “So, where are the papers? You are trying my patience.”
    I exhaled noisily. “I haven’t spoken with Basia for about a week and she didn’t mention any papers. Look, I already told the other guy I don’t have them. I don’t even know what you are—”
    “What other guy?” he interrupted.
    “I don’t know. Some big white guy with a beefy neck, gold tooth and dark blazer. He accosted me in Georgetown and said he was trying to retrieve the papers for his client.”
    My attacker said something under his breath. I didn’t understand the language, but it sounded like he was using lots of swear words. Then he strode to where I had dropped my purse in the entranceway and rifled through it. Apparently he didn’t find what he was looking for because he turned his attention back on me.
    “What were you doing in Georgetown?”
    “If you must know, attending a miserable dinner party at my parents’.”
    “How did he know where you were going?”
    I considered for a moment. “Good question. I don’t know. He could have followed me from work, I guess.” The thought gave me the creeps.
    “Did you give him the papers?”
    “I just told you, I don’t have the papers,” I said in exasperation. “I don’t even know what the papers are. Besides, why would Basia mail them to me anyway? She doesn’t live that far away and she could drive them over if they were that important.”
    “I know she mailed them to you,” he said, his voice angry again. “But they weren’t in your mailbox today. Did you get them yesterday?”
    “Hey, isn’t mail supposed to be private?” I said, a nanosecond later realizing what a dumb statement it was given the fact that this guy was assaulting me in my own apartment with a gun. Snooping around someone else’s mail was probably small peanuts for someone like him.
    “You didn’t receive any packages from her today?”
    “No. I swear. Cross my heart and hope to live,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “You can look around if you don’t believe me.”
    He exhaled a deep breath. “I already did. And so did someone else.”
    While I pondered that, he stood quietly, apparently thinking. The gun still was pointed at me but at least it wasn’t pressing against my boob anymore.
    “If you receive the papers, call me immediately,” he finally said. “Don’t call anyone else. If you do, I assure you, you’ll pay with your life and the life of your friend.”
    I swallowed hard. “Okay.” I could be mega agreeable when a gun was pointed at my chest.
    He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket and then grabbed my arm. He scrawled a number on the inside of my forearm. “Don’t wash that off,” he warned.
    “Who me? Take a bath?” I joked weakly.
    He leaned down close to my face. “I know you work for the NSA,” he said,