When the Smoke Clears (Deadly Reunions) Read Online Free PDF Page A

step toward her. And thanks to a gleam of light, she finally registered what he held in his right hand.
    A knife.
    Dark liquid flashed on the blade. Blood?
    She glanced around. All alone.
    With someone who’d just been inside her mother’s house.
    Someone who was heading straight for her, knife in one hand and . . . something in the other.
    Breaking out of her frozen state, Alexia instantly realized her stupidity in giving chase. Heart pounding, she backpedaled, spun on her heel, and snagged her Blackberry from her pocket. “I’m calling the cops,” she yelled over her shoulder.
    Pounding footsteps echoed behind her. She raced for the front door as a car pulled into the driveway across the street.
    Panting, she looked back as her feet hit the front steps and saw her pursuer pause under the next-door neighbor’s motion light, masked head swiveling between Alexia and the woman getting out of her car. With one last threatening look, the person turned and disappeared into the surrounding darkness.
    “Hello? 9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
    She realized she hadn’t answered the operator. “12 Lockwood Lane,” she breathed. “Someone was in my house. He just ran out of my basement. He has a knife.”
    “Are you in a safe area?”
    Alexia looked around. Was she? “Well,” she cleared her throat and ordered her pulse to slow down, “he’s gone, so I suppose I’m pretty safe at this point.”
    A glance across the drive showed the woman who’d arrived at just the right time had gone into her house, unaware of the drama playing out across the street. “Yes, I think I’m safe.”
    Just saying the words calmed her.
    “I’m dispatching a unit. Please stay on the line with me.”
    The operator’s voice faded as Alexia walked back to the house. Once again, she stood on the threshold, wondering if she should wait on the police.
    A stirring of anger swirled within. Her jaw tightened. Who felt like he had the right to just violate someone else’s space like that?
    She flashed to the incident that nearly took her life. Someone had messed with her air tank. Now someone was messing with her mother’s house.
    The anger built—and built. She refused to be a victim again. She stepped into the house and made her way into the kitchen.
    “Ma’am, are you there?” The 9-1-1 operator. Alexia had forgotten about her.
    “I’m here.”
    She looked around for a weapon. Nothing. A can of wasp and hornet spray sat on the counter.
    That would do.
    Ignoring the shouting of her common sense and clutching the can of spray, she headed straight for the basement door. She yanked it open and stepped down the first three steps, automatically skipping the squeaky fourth one, and arrived at the bottom.
    What had the intruder been looking for? Her fingers found the light switch and she flipped it.
    Brightness bathed the area. The door that led to the outside yard stood open. She paused and pressed a hand to her stomach, reason bullying its way to the surface of her mind. What if he came back?
    Dodging the accumulation of junk blocking her path, Alexia cautiously made her way to the door to look out. Darkness, broken by the bright light over the door, greeted her.
    Her nerves tingled, the hair on her neck stood at attention. What if he hadn’t been alone?
    Was there someone down there even now? Watching her? She whirled to face the basement.
    Her breathing quickened, her adrenaline rushed as she realized she was framed quite nicely in the doorway with the light on. She stepped to the side behind a large box, looked down . . .
    . . . and screamed.

7
     
    Monday, 6:40 p.m.
     
    Hunter pulled behind the nearest cruiser and got out of the vehicle. His partner, Katie Isaacs, followed. Chad was still sleeping it off in the front seat.
    Keeping a lid on his emotions, Hunter took in the scene. Four police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck.
    And every available neighbor who happened to be home during all the commotion. Well, good.