Out of Circulation (Hemlock Creek Suspense Book 1) by Heather Day Gilbert Read Free Book Online

pitch-dark night sky seemed to amplify every little noise outside her window. She was positive someone was creeping around, but the dogs next door were silent, so she finally turned on her box fan around three in the morning and drifted into turbulent dreams.
    Reba had asked her to come to the library for a half-day, but she and Ace could hit the shooting range after that. She didn't want to admit it, but being around the buff bodyguard made her feel secure.
    Stepping out of her morning shower, she thought about the threatening note she had handed off to him. If she contemplated the scrawled message inside, an icy wedge of fear stabbed at her.
    A song from her childhood came to mind—a Bible verse set to music. "When I am afraid, I will trust in Thee." She hummed it to herself, over and over, trying to displace the anxiety. Yes, even more than Ace, she had to trust in God. But that didn't mean she had to drop her guard. Shooting practice would come in handy, giving her confidence to conceal-carry the Sig, at least until the threat blew over.
    But she knew it wouldn't blow over until Anatoly's thugs got their money.
    Donning her favorite khaki jacket and brown pants, she twisted her hair up and glanced at her reflection. All she needed was a pair of black glasses to scream Librarian . If only she could glam it up like Molly. She had a brief image of herself at The Greenbrier restaurant, dressed to the nines, across from Ace in a tuxedo. He would look a little like Cary Grant, she decided.
    A knock on her door pulled her back to reality. "You ready?" Ace sounded impatient. "I already got breakfast but we're running late."
    She sighed. Ace didn't phrase things like a Southerner. He didn't soften his bluntness or coddle her. He never called her honey or sweetie like most men did. And yet somehow that made him seem more trustworthy.
    She grabbed her purse and slipped into brown ballet flats. She would try not to think of oversized thugs and threatening notes. Today she would focus on the children at the library and rest in the quiet presence of the strong man who watched her every move.
     
    ****
     
    Ace hated to waste more time at the library, but searching the house without Katie would never fly. He could only hope the half-day passed quickly so he could get down to the business he came here for.
    He covertly observed Katie as she drove. Her face seemed to radiate a peaceful glow. How did she find that peace in the middle of the storm raging around her? She and Mrs. McClure were still eating regular meals, but his own appetite had dwindled after a late-night follow-up call from his boss. The gist of it was find the money... or else .
    He wiped sweat from his forehead. It must be ninety degrees in this piece-of-junk car, but it was probably all she could afford. Unbuttoning the sleeves on his yellow Brooks Brothers shirt, he haphazardly shoved them up to his elbows.
    The heat served to fuel his frustration. If only Katie would work up her confidence and move to a larger city, she could have a decent-paying job that utilized her obvious people skills. That limp seemed to control her life. No one should let anything control them...trap them.
    And yet here he sat, trapped. Controlled by a cruel and wicked man. He stretched his leg and kicked the door, not accidentally.
    She shot a glance at him. "You okay? Sorry it's so hot. The A/C hasn't worked for years so the car vents just blow hot air around. You want to open windows instead?"
    "Sure." He tried to mellow his tone, but couldn't. What was she doing sitting here with him, trusting him? Why hadn't her mom been more wary of a strange bodyguard, no matter how perfectly his credentials had checked out?
    Because Ace was too slick, that's why. His boss had chosen him because of that.
    The wind tugged strands from her updo, whipping them around her face. What a contrast she was with the Manhattan up-and-comers he had dated. Those meticulously-coiffed women would have run screaming from