Undercover Love (The Women of Manatee Bay, Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page B

the path like the scuttling of insects. What was wrong with her? Bad pizza, she decided, and kept going.
    Then the heel of her sandal stuck in the cobblestones. As she lurched forward, a dull pop split the air. She hit the ground hard. Her palms scraped against the rough stones and her chin smacked the cobblestones.
    Trying to ignore the stinging in various parts of her body, she gaped at a twig resting inches from her nose. At least no one was around to see her sprawled like a broken puppet across the path. She stood, grimacing when her hair brushed against her stinging neck.
    She hoped her heel hadn’t broken. Twisting, she saw the shoe intact on her foot. Which meant the pop had been something far different.
    It took a second for the meaning to register. When it did, her skin prickled. She dropped down. A silencer. She’d heard that sound years before in a gun safety training course. Or maybe it had been in a movie? Whatever . She wasn’t staying to find out what the sound was.
    She dove into the woods. Branches gouged her palms, dug into her knees. Quietly, she kneeled behind a tree and carefully picked her way through the crowded underbrush. Her lungs hitched painfully as she struggled to breathe in slow, calm breaths, rather than frantic gulps. Sweat trickled down her neck. The musky scent of dirt filled her senses, punctuated by the occasional high-pitched call of a coot.
    Time blurred for her. Every few seconds she’d stop, hear nothing, and then keep going. Eventually she reached the edge of the parking lot and realized she’d paralleled the path.
    She surveyed the paved area. Empty. Just her Escalade, sitting there like a beacon, screaming her presence. She sat back on her heels. Took a slow, shuddering breath.
    Nothing moved behind her. It was probably safe to go to her car. But her limbs were paralyzed. Heavy and shaking.
    She patted her hips and groaned. She’d left her cell in the car. She always kept her iPhone in her pocket but she’d planned on just dashing over to meet Mrs. Owens. Besides, her capris only had shallow pockets. No room for a cell phone. The one time she needed it…
    Rachel smoothed hair back from her face and tried to pray.
    “Jesus, I need help here.” It came out a quivery whisper. She didn’t hear any kind of whisper in return but a measure of peace filled her. She stood, brushing leaves from her bottom, and cringed at the pain radiating through her arms. Her legs wobbled so badly she could barely walk but somehow she made it to the car. She slid in, locked the doors. Gunned the engine and got out of there.
    It didn’t take long to get to the police station. Not that it was much of one. Just a small building on the edge of Manatee Bay, plopped between the library and Al’s Garage.
    She screeched into the parking lot. Jerking to a stop, she turned off the car and rushed into the station.
    It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the difference in light. Bulbs couldn’t compare to the summer sun. First face that came into view was Charlie’s. His glasses caught the glare from the lights and hid his eyes. His lips stretched into a familiar broad grin.
    “Well howdy, Miss Rachel.” He slapped his cowboy hat on his head and stood. “I heard about your shenanigans the other night.”
    Rachel ignored him and moved further into the station, letting the door slam behind her. The gray walls, the bland carpeting; for once they comforted rather than annoyed.
    “I need to talk to Chief Weathers.” She tried to say it firm, strong, but frowned when her voice came out little more than a croak. She cleared her throat. 
    Charlie’s thick brows pulled together. His grin melted. “You alright? What’s on your neck?”
    To Rachel’s right a door squeaked open. She turned and met Grant’s mocking gaze head-on.
    “Come to say hello?” His eyes twinkled, belying the sarcasm in his voice.
    Rachel swallowed, alarmed when her legs wouldn’t stop shaking. “Is the chief