Truth or Dare Read Online Free PDF

and was now living under an assumed name somewhere.
    Just as she was doing.
    Very slowly she extended one arm, reached down and found the pistol that she always kept beneath the bed at night whenever Harry was away. The feel of the grip in her hand was somewhat reassuring. After the escape from Candle Lake, she and Zoe had each taken steps to acquire a greater sense of security. Zoe had signed up for self-defense lessons.
    Knowing that Grant might someday decide to return from the grave, Arcadia had opted to buy a gun and had learned how to use it.
    Pistol in hand, she slid her legs out from under the white sheets, got to her feet and went to the doorway to look down the hall. The light that was always on in the living room cast a gentle glow across the white carpet and the pale furnishings. None of the familiar shadows shifted.
    She went forward cautiously, the silver-gray silk nightgown drifting around her ankles. When she reached the bank of electrical switches, she flipped all of them at once, illuminating every room of the condo, including the closets.
    Methodically she checked every lock and every alarm on every window and the front door. When she was certain that all was secure, she turned off the lights again and went to stand atthe window. She had deliberately chosen a condo on the second floor, not only because she thought it would be harder for someone to crawl through a window, but also because it gave her a better view of the pool and garden in the center of the complex.
    She looked out into the desert night. In common with Sedona and several other Arizona communities, Whispering Springs did not have a lot of streetlights. Officially the idea was that heavy illumination of the residential and commercial neighborhoods interfered with the citizens’ and tourists’ enjoyment of the glorious nighttime skies. Arcadia suspected that was an excuse. She had a hunch that the local governments liked the notion of saving money on electricity bills. The good people of Arizona were not real keen on taxes.
    The homeowners’ association to which she belonged had put in some low-level lamps along the walkways and around the fence that enclosed the pool. The glow from the weak bulbs did not extend far. When she looked down she saw a lot of shadows.
    She watched for a long time, but with the exception of a prowling cat, nothing moved.
    The phone warbled, startling her. She was annoyed to feel her pulse kick up again. Irritated by her own reaction, she walked across the room and hesitated before she willed herself to pick up the instrument. Damnit, she would not allow her nerves to control her.
    â€œHello?”
    â€œYou okay?” Harry Stagg asked without preamble.
    She was surprised by the monumental relief she felt at the sound of his voice. She released the breath she had not realized she had been holding.
    The muffled beat of heavy rock music played somewhere in the background on Harry’s end of the connection. She almost smiled. Harry was not a big fan of rock. Like her, he was a jazz aficionado.
    â€œI’m fine,” she said. She allowed herself to relax against the back of one of the pair of white leather chairs that sat in front of the coffee table.
    â€œYou don’t sound fine,” Harry said. “You sound tense. Did I wake you? Thought you’d still be up.”
    They were both night people. It was one of the many things they had in common. She did not want to explain that she had not been sleeping well since he had left and that she had tried to make up for it tonight by going to bed earlier than usual.
    â€œNo. I was awake.” She put the pistol down on the table and carried the phone back to the window. “How’s the job going?”
    Harry Stagg was unlike any other man she had ever met; a far cry from the sleek, wealthy, powerful financiers and investors who had populated the world in which she had once moved. The exact opposite of Grant.
    She had met him last