Page 62 of His Forgotten Colton Fiancee
She fetched him a dog biscuit. He ate it in one gulp and then pushed his cold, wet nose against her leg. Tears burned in the back of her throat. Dogs were so loyal and good. They weren’t suspicious anddidn’t have ulterior motives.
People, such as the man whom she’d identified to the police sketch artist, were not good.
West seemed like one of the good guys. He’d demonstrated concern the entire time since she’d been awake. And yet the cold, calculating way he’d interrogated her brother at the station indicated West Brand wasn’t all he seemed. And he’d failed to answer her question.
If only he hadn’t made that phone call in her hospital room! Better to be safe and wary of him, than caught off guard like before.
West rubbed a hand over the slight bristles on his high cheekbones.
“I have to get back to work and I’ll be working late now that we have a suspect. Are you certain you’ll be all right on your own?”
Quinn stirred the tea with a desultory gesture. “I’mfine. Go. Go find the bastard who did this. The sooner you catch him, the safer I am.”
He bent his head, gave her a quick, smooth kiss on the cheek. “Wish I could leave Rex here, but we have to get to the training center. Don’t leave the apartment unless you take someone with you. Stay here, watch those movies you love. I’ll try to make it back around midnight.”
With a last look aroundthe kitchen, he left.
Quinn sipped her tea. Hard to watch movies when she didn’t remember what she enjoyed.
Taking a nap might help.
She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Dreams danced in her head, a cruel-faced, dark-haired man turning as he bent over Tia.
“You’re next,” he whispered.
She awoke in a start. Sweat dampened the mattress beneath her. Quinn releasedthe fistful of sheet she’d grabbed in her sleep.
Her nostrils twitched as she smelled peppermint, sharp and sweet, as if someone munched on strong breath mints. Odd.
And then she heard it.
A slight, but audible cough, coming from inside her closet. Bone-chilling fear curdled in her stomach. Quinn gripped the sheets tighter.
Someone was in her closet. Hiding. Watching her throughthe slats as she slept...
Waiting to pounce on her.
Don’t be a sissy. There’s nothing there. Remember West’s security cameras? No one can break inside, not without the security cameras recording it.
Still, she wondered if she had imagined that cough. Was her mind that muzzy still?
Only one way to find out. Quinn opened the door.
Nothing.
With a shaky laugh, she pushed thecurls out of her face. Now she was imagining monsters hiding in her closet. What was next, checking under the bed?
She padded into the kitchen for another cup of tea. Hunger grumbled in her stomach, reminding her she’d skipped lunch at the barbecue.
After heating and eating leftover pasta, she felt restless again. Caged. The killer was out there, and no one had an idea who it was. Buther brother and West agreed on one thing. The man would be gone by now, knowing police were searching for him.
It had been a long day. Suddenly she felt an urgent need to get out, get free, explore. There was a cozy, cute-looking bar she’d noticed earlier. It looked safe and friendly, a neighborhood bar where one could grab a sandwich and a beer. Nothing pretentious.
Surely West couldn’tforce her to stay here all day and night while he worked. She wasn’t a child.
Walking over to the window, she looked down at Main Street. A throng of pedestrians hurried along the sidewalk. So normal. Ordinary.
Safe.
