Blood Red by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online

T-shirt, she started to turn off the TV and the lights.
    Then she hesitated.
    She left the TV on, wanting the sounds of a sitcom to lure her to sleep. She left the bathroom light on, then turned off the others. When she was done, she found herself walking to the window that looked out onto the courtyard and pool.
    She had intended to reassure herself. Instead, she felt a jolt of ice rip along her spinal cord.
    There was someone out there.
    A man.
    Watching their cottage.
    He was leaning against a utility pole out by the street, but, despite the high fence, she could see him, and she knew he was staring at the cottage.
    What was worse was the fact that she knew who he was.
    Tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes.
    It was the man she had crashed into at the bar.
    A scream froze in her throat. But then, as if he knew he was being watched in return, he stepped away from the pole and walked away. She saw the breadth of his back for a few seconds, and then he was gone.
    She realized a few seconds later that she had a death grip on the curtains, and that she was still staring out at the night, which now appeared completely calm and normal.
    She bit her lower lip, wondering if she should call the police. And tell them what? That she had no evidence, but she was certain a man she had met in a bar had followed them home and stared at their cottage? Like that would be a pressing concern to men who had to deal with real problems, drugs, thugs and nasty drunks. But no matter what the police would think, she was sure that they had been…
    Stalked.
    She glanced toward the bedroom. The door was ajar and the room was quiet. Heidi and Deanna were probably sound asleep already.
    All right, she would just call the police and ask if an officer could do a few drive-bys during the night.
    They would undoubtedly think she was a jumpy freak. But better that than…
    Determined, she walked over and closed the door to the bedroom. Then she did call the police, using the non-emergency number. A very polite officer took her information, assured her that she wasn’t an idiot and promised that a car would check the property throughout the night.
    When she hung up, she felt almost smug. She got a can of Coke from the refrigerator and curled her legs beneath her on the sofa-bed to watch TV.
    But as she sat there, the cold from her soda seemed to seep into her bones. She couldn’t help but replay the her fading memories of the strange scene in the fortune teller’s tent. Now, alone in the dark, the details seemed to be coming back.
    She had the strangest feeling that the evil being in the crystal ball had been real.
    And that a dozen police officers couldn’t stand against the soul—stealing danger that he presented.

    She had seen him. Great. Now she would think he was stalking her.
    He was still in shock himself. It was impossible for anyone to look so much like Katie, and yet…It was as if his fiancée had been cloned. Even her smile, the way she flushed slightly, the slight hike of her brow…all were simply Katie.
    As he walk away from the B and B, he was all too aware the woman in question was probably still watching him from the window.
    Then, to his surprise, he noticed that there was a light on over the door to the main house, and several lights still blazing inside.
    He made a point of walking away, then doubling back. The curtain at the cottage had dropped. He was free and clear. He walked up the porch steps of the main house and tried the door. It was open.
    â€œHello?”
    A long hall led back to a desk. He admired the main house as he walked in; it reminded him of the Cornstalk, another bed and breakfast, and one of the loveliest in New Orleans. A curved stairway led to the upper rooms, while the hall branched off toward several more. He knew that each one would be a little bit different. That was the beauty of such a place: nothing was cookie-cutter; every room would have something all its