The Fifth Victim by Beverly Barton Read Free Book Online Page A

the people who lived here were at home; if not, he’d have no choice but to do something illegal—break in.
    The moment he set foot on the porch, he shook the snow from his head and brushed it off his overcoat. After a couple of seconds searching for a doorbell, he realized there was none, so he lifted his hand and knocked. Instantly the sound of deep, rumbling growls alerted him that there was a dog in residence. From the sound of its powerful bark, a very large dog.
    The door swung wide open. His gaze bounced back and forth from the massive dog, who vaguely resembled a wolf, to the small, black-eyed woman standing beside the animal, one hand tenderly stroking the fierce beast’s head. The howling wind blocked out soft sounds, so when the woman spoke to him he couldn’t quite make out what she was saying.
    He leaned forward. The dog bristled and bared his sharp teeth. The woman soothed the animal with words Dallas couldn’t understand.
    She motioned to Dallas to come inside, which he did immediately, entering to the woman’s left, since her pet stood guard on her right.
    “Thank you, ma’am,” Dallas said as he waited just inside the doorway. “My car skidded off the road not far from here and my cell phone isn’t working, so—”
    She slammed the door closed, bent down and whispered something to the dog, then turned and looked directly at Dallas. “Please, come into the living room by the fire and warm yourself.”
    Dallas stared at her, into the darkest, most hypnotic eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes the color of rich, black earth. Why was this woman not afraid of him? Did she think her dog could protect her from any and all harm? Surely she knew there was a killer on the loose in Cherokee County. Perhaps he should identify himself and put her totally at ease, just in case she had any qualms about having a perfect stranger in her house.
    “I’m Special Agent Dallas Sloan, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation.” He unbuttoned his overcoat and reached inside his sports jacket for his ID and badge, then held it up so she could inspect it.
    She glanced at his ID, then smiled. “You’re the agent who called Jacob, aren’t you?”
    “Jacob?”
    “Sheriff Jacob Butler.”
    “Yeah, I’m the one who called him. You know the sheriff?” He supposed in a rural area like Cherokee County everybody knew everybody else.
    “Jacob is my cousin, but we’re more like brother and sister.”
    She smiled. A warm, soft expression that radiated gentleness. Dallas studied her, from her long, free-flowing black hair, down her small, delicate body covered in denim jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt, to her booted feet. She was an exotically beautiful creature, with skin the color of rich café au lait. Full, naturally pink lips, slender nose, and almond-shaped eyes completed the package.
    When he realized he was gawking at her, he looked away abruptly. “Is your phone working?” he asked gruffly, aggravated at himself for allowing her extraordinary beauty to affect him. “I can call a wrecker service or maybe a taxi—”
    She giggled, the sound like tingling wind chimes. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not laughing at you. My phone is still working, for the moment. But no one will venture up the mountain on a night like this. Besides, I’m afraid Cherokee Pointe has no taxi service. Old John Berryman ran the only taxi in town, and when he died, no one took over his business. Just not enough calls for a taxi in these parts.”
    Huffing, Dallas ran his hand over his face and found his beard stubble rough against his palm. “Are you saying I’m stuck here?”
    “Yes. At least until the storm passes and the roads clear. The county will send out a crew in the morning and begin clearing the roads.”
    “Would I be imposing if I—”
    “You’re welcome to stay here,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “I have plenty of room. It’s just Drudwyn and me in this big old house.”
    “Ma’am, you