Out of Control by Shannon McKenna Read Free Book Online

then?”
    His bland smile made the words sound silly and frivolous to her own ears. What a ditz she must seem. His waiting silence had such a calm, patient quality. He looked like he could wait for hours and not get restless or bored.
    She probably revealed more by holding back than she would by spilling her guts. McCloud was the meticulous type that fed every twitch of the eyelid and slip of the tongue into the database in his mind and then, crunchity-crunch, churned out conclusions that she could neither predict nor control. She might as well distract him by throwing him a few random facts. Like chunks of meat to fend off a wolf. She was a piss-poor liar anyhow.
    â€œI told you most of it.” She avoided his eyes. “The rose petals started two weeks days ago. The break-in was six days ago. Three days ago the dead dog showed up. That’s how long it’s been since I slept.”
    â€œWhat kind of dog? Did you know it?”
    She shook her head. “It was hard to tell, under all that blood. No collar. A big dog. Shepherd mix, maybe.”
    He nodded, and gestured for her to go on.
    â€œI found it when I woke up,” she went on. “From the amount of blood, I figure whoever killed it must’ve done the deed right here on my porch, while I was sleeping. How creepy is that?”
    McCloud reached behind himself and took another beer out of the fridge. He popped it open with an effortless twist of his enormous hand and placed it in front of her.
    â€œWhat, are you trying to get me drunk?” she demanded.
    The corners of his mouth twitched. “You need to unwind.”
    She rolled her eyes and took a swig. “Bad idea, McCloud. If I unwound, I’d drill myself six feet into the ground. It wouldn’t be pretty.”
    His dimple flashed. She suddenly wished she could make him grin again. A big, crazy out-of-control grin. She pictured him laughing so hard that he rolled on the floor. Gasping and snorting while she tickled him, maybe. The silly image triggered a funny jolt of longing.
    â€œGo on,” he urged. “How about the break-in?”
    She yanked herself back into focus. “I came home from work one night and found the place trashed. Furniture slashed, everything torn off the shelves. Books, dishes, the stuff in the fridge, the cupboards. But the only thing they took was my laptop. And my sketchbooks.”
    â€œSketchbooks? What was in them?”
    She widened her eyes. “Um…sketches?”
    Her sarcasm didn’t make the slightest dent in his focused calm. “How about jewelry? Money?”
    She shook her head. “Don’t have any.” Except for the evil snake pendant, of course, but that entailed talking about unspeakable stuff, and the wretched thing hadn’t gotten stolen anyway. Worse luck.
    â€œCould they have been looking for something?” he prompted.
    His tone was neutral, but her stomach still lurched with guilt. Here it was, the blank wall beyond which she had to start fudging with half-truths. “If they were, I can’t imagine what for. I haven’t seen anybody lurking. Haven’t gotten any love notes. Haven’t been asked on any dates. Haven’t pissed anybody off…that I know of.” She hoped the quaver in her voice sounded scared, rather than guilty.
    He nodded calmly. “Vindictive ex-husbands?”
    â€œNever married,” she said promptly.
    â€œEx-boyfriends?”
    She thought about Craig, and swallowed over a hard, hot lump in her throat. “No one who’d be that mad at me.”
    â€œHow about angry women? Involved with any married men lately?”
    â€œHah. I’m no masochist,” she snapped.
    â€œBlackmailing anyone?” His tone was supremely casual.
    â€œExcuse me?” She jumped up and pointed to the door. “Out!”
    Mikey chose that moment to jump up and leaned against McCloud’s knee, trembling with the force of his wags. Traitorous