Deception by Sharon Cullen Read Free Book Online Page B

else?” Tony said.
    Alex wanted nothing more than to stand up and pace. He settled for tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair and shook his head. “Not a damn thing. It’s like a word you can’t remember but you know the letter it starts with. The memory’s there, but I can’t get to it.”
    Upton sat back and twisted his wedding ring around his finger. A sure sign he was thinking.
    “Tell me about the investigation. What’s going on?” Alex asked.
    “Nothing. With you not remembering, things have stalled.” Upton’s razor-sharp gaze pinned Alex. “Tell me about that night.”
    They went through it again, from the moment Alex walked between the dark warehouses until Tony showed up at his side. The retelling didn’t get easier and neither did he remember more.
    “He’s out there,” Alex said. “He knows where I am and Tess is caught in the middle.”
    “We could move her out,” Tony suggested. “No one but us would need to know where she went.”
    Alex had considered it, but didn’t like the idea of being separated from her. “She has a business to run and I’d rather she was near me, where I can keep an eye on her.”
    “There’s no proof these incidents are connected,” Upton said.
    Alex pushed at the arms of his chair to stand, but a sharp pain in his leg had him sinking down. “I don’t want to think there’s a person out there bent on destroying me. I don’t want to think I brought this to Tess’s front door. Literally. But I have no choice. Come on, Upton, this has to be more than coincidence.”
    Upton shook his head. “I know it looks that way, but nothing concrete points to any connection. Think about it, Alex. Would a drug lord waste his time painting your door? Or running through your backyard?”
    Alex clenched his jaw. His gut was telling him differently, but he couldn’t prove last night’s intruder or the person who painted his door was the same man who shot him, and Upton had a point. Why would the guy hang around and torment him?
    There was a quick rap on the front door and all three turned to see Roger step through. “What happened?” he asked, looking at the spray-painted words.
    “Graffiti artist,” Alex said. Why the hell was Roger here?
    Roger sat on the hearth. “Word is you had some trouble last night. Anything I can do to help?”
    You should have died, Juran. Alex shook his head. Damn the memories, they popped up at the oddest times. If only they were new memories and not the same ones.
    Roger looked at the door. “That the problem I heard about? Kids spray-painting your door?”
    At one time Alex had liked Roger. They’d worked in the same district on the same shift and Roger had been an okay guy. And Alex couldn’t totally hate him because it was at Roger’s wedding that he’d met Tess. However, lately Alex had noticed a swagger in Roger’s step, a condescending look to him. Over the years his opinion of Roger had slowly eroded into dislike. He’d hid it because the guy was his brother-in-law, but he still felt it when they were together. And obviously Upton and Tony were of the same mind because the easygoing camaraderie changed to a slight hum of tension.
    “I don’t think it was kids,” Alex said.
    “Then who do you think did that?” Roger asked.
    “The same guy who shot me.”
    Roger blinked. “I don’t know. Seems pretty juvenile for a guy who runs drugs.”
    Alex partly agreed but he wouldn’t admit that to Roger. Besides, who else could it be?
    Tony stood. “Come on, Upton, let’s get that new door in. Wanna help, Sheffield?”
    After the door was installed and the house finally quiet, Alex swung his legs up onto the couch.
    The snow was falling heavily, blanketing everything. Cars were cutting deep ruts in the street, and theirs was usually the last to be plowed.
    The tick-tock of the clock counted the minutes as they struggled by. Othello, curled in a ball, snored by his post at the hearth. Alex reached for the cordless and