The Dying Game by Beverly Barton Read Free Book Online Page A

lift the hot liquid to her lips. After several sips, she sighed.
    “Ms. Hughes, I must remind you that Mr. Powell is not affiliated with the FBI or any law enforcement agency,” Nic said, trying to keep her voice calm and friendly. “I must advise you that it isn’t in your sister’s best interest for you to discuss what happened with anyone other than—”
    “Special Agent Baxter is right,” Griff said. “I’m a private detective, not a law enforcement officer. But one of my best friends lost a wife to the killer whom we suspect tried to murder your sister. I’ve been working on his behalf for nearly four years to try to find and stop this maniac.”
    When Barbara Jean looked deeply into Griff’s eyes and offered him a trusting smile, Nic knew she had lost this particular battle.
    “I know all the residents where Gale Ann lives,” Barbara Jean said. “There are only ten apartments in the building. Two are divorcées, like Gale Ann. Two are widows, one is an old bachelor, and the other four are young couples, but only two of the couples have children.”
    “This man you saw, he wasn’t one of the residents?” Griff asked.
    Barbara Jean shook her head.
    “Could he have been a friend of one of the residents?” Nic inquired.
    “I don’t know. But I do know that in the six years my sister has lived there, I’d never seen this man before.”
    Nic opened her mouth to ask the all important question, but Griff beat her to the punch and asked pointedly, “Could you identify this man if you ever saw him again?”
    Dead silence.
    Nic gave Griff a heated glare.
    “It’s all right,” Nic said. “If you can’t ID the man—”
    “What if I can?” Barbara Jean’s gaze locked with Nic’s.
    “Can you?” Griff asked.
    “You think he’s the one who tried to kill Gale Ann, the one who cut off her feet?” Barbara Jean dropped her hands into her lap and entwined her fingers, trapping Griff’s handkerchief between her palms.
    “Possibly,” Nic said.
    “Does he know she didn’t die?”
    Nic shook her head. “The local police issued a statement to the news media that Gale Ann Cain’s body had been discovered by her sister. Nothing more. But the hospital staff could let something slip, although they’ve been warned to be careful. And there are reporters trying to get to you to find out more details. But I or another agent will be with you twenty-four-seven. There is an agent posted at the hospital, outside the nurses’ entrance to the ICU, to protect your sister.”
    “If this man knew I could identify him, he’d come after me, wouldn’t he?”
    “Yes, he might,” Nic admitted.
    “But we are not going to let anything happen to you,” Griff told her. “Between the FBI and the Powell Agency, you’ll be protected at all times.”
    Barbara Jean didn’t say anything for several minutes, her mind obviously absorbing all the information and mulling over her choices. “I don’t think I could identify him if I saw him again.”
    Nic groaned inwardly. She had been afraid of that. Either Barbara Jean really couldn’t ID the guy or she was so scared that she had convinced herself she couldn’t ID him.
    “Could you describe him to us?” Griff asked.
    “I already told Special Agent Baxter—”
    “Call me Nic, please.” Two could play the “let’s be friends” game.
    “I told Nic—” she offered Nic a fragile smile—“that as I was going in the front door of the apartment building—I always use the elevator since Gale Ann’s apartment is on the second floor—that I saw a man in a tan trench coat coming down the stairs. He had on a hat and wore sunglasses. I didn’t see his eyes. I think his hair was brown, but I can’t be sure. He was walking pretty fast, as if he was in a hurry.”
    “Did he see you?” Griff asked.
    “I don’t know. I—I don’t think so. He never looked my way. And I was already inside the elevator by the time he reached the sidewalk.”
    Nic’s cell phone rang.