I'm Watching You by Karen Rose Read Free Book Online Page B

couldn’t have done any better. He found both spare bedrooms devoid of vigilante murdering peeping Toms, as was the bathroom with its neat stacks of makeup and hairspray. She’d left it so neat, almost as if she expected company. He instantly wondered who, irritation pricking at the thought of shaving cream and a razor littering the neat vanity top. But there was none. No sign of a man. He laughed at himself. Harshly. If there existed such a person, she would have called him to pick her up instead of trying to take a cab.
    And even if there existed such a person, it was none of his damn business.
    Abe pushed open the door to her bedroom, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement. There was none. He hadn’t expected there to be. He flipped the light switch and saw Kristen’s skill lent itself to picking furniture as well. Art deco pieces filled the room, giving it a solid feel. There was no lace, no trace of ribbon, but still there was a feminine air. Perhaps it was the old-fashioned quilt on her bed. Or maybe the scent of her perfume, still hanging in the air. A sleek black cat sat on her pillow, watching him with eyes as green and cautious as Kristen’s.
    Abe swept his flashlight under her bed and around the closet filled with black suits, dark navy suits, charcoal gray suits. Her knack for color didn’t extend to her wardrobe, or maybe there was an unwritten dress code for officers of the court. Still he wondered at the absence of party dresses, evening gowns, shiny shoes. He paused long enough to scratch the cat behind the ears before making his way back to the kitchen where Kristen stood spooning loose tea into a china teapot with big pink roses. She still wore her winter coat and he wondered if she planned to stay after all.
    „This floor is clear,“ he said and she nodded mutely. „Basement door?“
    She pointed to the wall behind him. „Be careful. It’s a bit of a mess down there.“
    Kristen Mayhew’s mess was cleaner than any of his siblings’ houses, he thought. The fireplace mantel was scraped and sanded down to its natural wood. A set of stained wood samples rested on the top, propped against the wall. Abe sighed. Their humble servant was indeed correct. The cherry was the best choice.
    Kristen jumped when his footsteps sent the stairs from the basement creaking. She wasn’t sure what made her more nervous, the knowledge that a killer routinely stalked her movements in her own home, or that there was a man in the house for the very first time ever. She drew a breath, the aroma of the brewing tea settling her nerves enough that she didn’t appear insane. Abe Reagan reappeared, sliding his pistol into his shoulder holster.
    His pistol. He’d drawn his weapon. A shiver raced down her spine. „All clear?“
    He nodded. „No one’s here except for you, me, and the black cat on your pillow.“
    Kristen smiled, just a little. „Nostradamus. He lets me sleep in his bed.“
    Reagan choked on a laugh and her heart did a little trip that had nothing to do with vigilante psychos. He was an incredible-looking man. And he seemed kind. But he was still a man. „You named your cat Nostradamus?“ he asked with a grin.
    She nodded. „Mephistopheles hasn’t come home yet. He’s out chasing mice.“
    His grin widened. „Nostradamus and Mephistopheles. The Prophet of Doom and the Devil Himself. Whatever happened to Huffy or Snowflake?“
    „I never could bring myself to name them something cute,“ she said dryly. „It just wasn’t in their nature. The first week after I adopted them they destroyed the carpet in three rooms.“
    „So if you ever got a dog, you could name him Cerberus and have a full set.“
    Her lips twitched as he’d meant them to and she felt a sudden rush of appreciation for his effort to lighten her mood. „The three-headed guardian of Hades. I’ll certainly keep it in mind. Would you like some tea? I drink it at night when I’m all wound up. I’m hoping it will settle my nerves