Killer Heat by Brenda Novak Read Free Book Online Page B

Samuel, who was older by six years and had a wife and three children.
    Francesca: “In other words, leave my home unprotected.”
    Jonah: “Your safety is more important than your house.”
    Francesca: “But I can’t leave the house to him. Who knows what he’d do? He could install video cameras in my attic, sabotage the window locks, drill peepholes.”
    Jonah: “You can have it inspected before you go back.”
    Or she could defend her turf, refuse to let him disrupt her life.
    Francesca: “Thanks for the advice, but it never pays to run from a bully. That would only endanger whoever I chose to stay with. All he’d have to do is follow me from the office.”
    Finch: “There’s strength in numbers. It certainly beats staying alone.”
    Francesca: “Giving him the upper hand won’t make me any safer. I’m not going to run and hide.”
    Jonah: “You haven’t changed a bit. You had too much pride for your own good ten years ago, and you’ve got too much now. Don’t you have a boyfriend you can stay with for a few weeks?”
    Roland Perenski, her last love interest, had appearedin her mind in that moment, but she hadn’t been with him in two years. She hadn’t even heard from him. She was pretty sure he’d married the woman he’d dated after her.
    Francesca: “Just stop. I don’t want to talk to you anymore, especially about my love life.”
    Jonah hadn’t spoken again, even to say goodbye when she got out of the car. She’d slammed the door, climbed into her BMW and headed directly home, but she was still thinking about him. Why, she couldn’t say. So what if he looked better than ever? With that thick dark hair falling across his forehead, the slight cleft in his chin and the perennial five-o’clock shadow that was such a marked contrast to his light green eyes and wide sexy smile, he’d always turned heads.
    No, it was never his looks she’d had a problem with.
    A noise outside her window sent her heart pounding, so she threw off the covers and sat up. Forget trying to sleep; this was torture.
    Grabbing the cordless phone from her nightstand, she called her best friend, Adriana Covington, and refused to feel the slightest bit guilty for disturbing her. If anyone deserved to be awakened in the middle of the night as a result of Jonah’s reappearance, it was Adriana.
    â€œHello?” her friend mumbled.
    Grateful that Adriana’s husband hadn’t answered, Francesca toyed with the locket she wore around her neck. “You sleeping?”
    â€œIsn’t that what most people do at three in the morning?” There was no irritation in her voice, only curiosity. “Where are you?”
    â€œHome.”
    â€œWhat’s going on? I thought maybe you were in trouble.”
    Francesca led a very stable life. She wasn’t currently in a relationship so there was no romantic angst. She worked too much to date very often and rarely hung out at bars or other singles’ gatherings unless it was to stop by for a few minutes after work with Heather, her twenty-two-year-old receptionist. That gave Heather a break from the constraints of her single-parent life. Francesca didn’t consider herself a success in the “popular girl” category, but she’d established quite a glowing reputation in the investigative industry, especially after finding Janice Grey’s remains. That investigation hadn’t ended the way anyone would hope, but she’d been able to give Janice’s family resolution and justice. Sometimes that was all a client could ask.
    Anyway, it wasn’t as if late-night calls were usual for her. “I ran into Jonah today.”
    A long silence ensued. Finally, Adriana muttered, “Hang on. I’m going into the other room.”
    Francesca probed her sore lip with her tongue while she waited. When Adriana came back on the line,