Prey of Desire Read Online Free PDF Page B

Seven... Six…
    Okay, she
decided. I'm calm. Straightening her back, she regained her composure. First,
she shut the refrigerator, then looked for a phone.
There was one on the wall at the end of the counter.
    She
picked up the receiver and dialed “0”
    “Operator,
this is an emergency,” she said quickly. “I need the number for People Magazine.”

 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    A week
later...

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    4
    A Cold Day
    For Murder

 
 
 
 
    Monday,
January 10, 2000
    7:35 AM
     
    “INVESTIGATION
CONTINUES OF MURDERED CONGRESSMAN, EX-MISS STILLWATER QUESTIONED BY POLICE”  screamed the headline. Kim couldn’t believe it,
picking up the morning paper from her doorstep.
    Slamming
the front door, she unfolded it and scanned the article. It had been a week
since the body was found and it still shocked her. Police had questioned her a couple of days ago. They had stopped by the old folk’s
home where she was visiting her grandfather, and she told them everything she
knew. Everything except for the handwritten note she’d received.                               
    Kim knew
the love poem was not connected to the murder, and even though Ross still
hadn’t called her or come home, he was out there. It was just a matter of time
before he came for her. And she wished that she knew where he was.
    Zeus’
barking distracted her, and she put the newspaper down beside her school books
on the kitchen table. The Doberman was growling at the overalls and work boots
sprawled out on the linoleum floor, the man’s upper-half hidden under the sink.
The garbage disposal was acting up again, and the landlord swore he’d fix it
this time.
    “Zeus!”
she yelled. Rushing to the sink she grabbed the dog by the collar. “I’m so
sorry! How’s the faucet?”
    “What?”
his voice was muffled under the sink. He strained to be heard over the barking.
    “I said,
‘How’s the faucet?’”
    “Missy,
you’re a fine tenant” He flipped out from under the sink and held a ratchet in
his right hand. Like all landlords, he was simultaneously crotchety yet a
knowledgeable southern gentleman, in his late sixties and the product of
another era. Kim had known him for several years now and, in all that time, had
never seen him wear anything but the same ole blue jean overalls and weathered
straw hat. He picked the hat up off the kitchen floor and placed it on top his
bald head as he continued his lecture. “But the good Lord knows I’m seriously
considering adding a ‘No-Pets Clause’ to your lease.”
    Zeus
barked again and he cringed. Kim gripped the collar to hold back the dog.
    “I’m
sorry. I gotta get to class, but I’ll take Zeus with
me.” She dragged the dog backwards across the linoleum as he let loose a spasm
of barks, yelps and a copious string of slobber.
    “What?”
The landlord cupped a hand to his ear as if he couldn't hear a thing over Zeus’
tantrum.
    “I gotta go to class!” With one hand gripping the leash and
holding back her growling dog, Kim grabbed her text books from the kitchen
table. She left the newspaper behind.
    “I can’t
hear you over the dog!” he yelled again.
    And
again, Kim apologized, dragging Zeus out of the kitchen.
    “Just
consider this payback for the dress your garbage disposal ruined on New Year’s
Eve,” she said to him. “That cost me a hundred fifty dollars.”
    The
landlord ignored her. “I’m serious about the No-Pets Clause.”
    Zeus
growled again. Kim tugged on his collar, pulling him to the front door. With
books in hand, she and Zeus were outside and walking across the lawn toward the
sidewalk leading to the gated entrance.          The
Doberman, sighing, finally complied with her direction, until he saw a
Pekingese named Rosie that lived in the townhome across the street. Mrs. Roundtree was walking the little dog, and Zeus immediately
scrambled in that direction. Kim yanked hard on the leash,