The Undead Next Door by Kerrelyn Sparks Read Free Book Online Page B

famous designer and a death threat all in one evening. She replayed the night’s events in her mind as she dragged her desk chair over to her closet. Why would a deadly assassin pick on a fashion designer? Unless…he was more than a fashion designer? Jean-Luc did have a James Bond aura of mystery about him.
    With a snort, she rejected that theory. International espionage was not interested in Schnitzelberg, Texas. She climbed onto the chair, located the shotgun on the top shelf of her closet, then took it to her bed. Didn’t Jean-Luc say something about Louie’s other names? Cadillac? No, something else. She inserted two shells.
    Maybe if she relaxed a bit, she could remember. She’d always had a great memory. She’d given her ex-husband, Cody, the shock of his life when she’d recalled his every insult and threatening remark in court.
    She undressed and put on her favorite green silk pajamas. She adored the feel of silk against bare skin, and the sensation always calmed her. She sat on her fuzzy chenille bedspread, snuggled against the pillows, and closed her eyes. An assassin who had taken many names. Not Cadillac, but Ravaillac. Jean-Luc had admitted to stopping Louie, and that was why the assassin wanted revenge.
    What kind of fashion designer stopped an assassin from carrying out his evil plan?
    James Bond music started playing in her head. No, it couldn’t be. She was letting her imagination go crazy.
    She turned on her computer, then dragged her chair back to the desk while it booted up. She Googled “Ravaillac” and sat there, stunned. This was even crazier than her James Bond theory.
    François Ravaillac had been executed in 1610 after assassinating King Henri IV. Four horses had ripped him into four parts. Sheesh, did they do his death certificate in quadruplicate? One thing was for sure, the man was definitely dead. Even if Louie managed to live four hundred years, he couldn’t be Ravaillac. And the French government had ordered the infamous name never be used again.
    At the bottom of the web page, there was a link to another assassin named Damiens. That was another name Jean-Luc had mentioned. She clicked on the link.
    Robert-François Damiens had tried to kill King Louis XV in 1757. He’d failed, but had still won the grand prize—death by drawing and quartering. Once again, the French had ordered the name never to be used again.
    A search for Jacques Clément yielded similar results. He’d killed King Henri III in 1589. He’d been quartered and burned. As a history teacher, Heather found it all fascinating, but confusing. It just didn’t make sense. Either Jean-Luc was mistaken or purposely lying or…something very strange was going on.
    That brought Jean-Luc’s list of flaws up to number five: ambiguity. How could she trust him if his story didn’t make sense?
    There was a soft knock on her door, and Heather quickly minimized her screen. “Yes?”
    The door cracked, and Emma peered inside. “I just wanted you to know everything is safe. You can relax for the night. I’ll be leaving shortly before dawn.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Fidelia woke up, so I told her what was going on. She insists on reading my future.”
    “Oh, right.” Heather nodded. “She does her tarot cards for anyone who comes to the house. It’s her way of protecting us.”
    “Along with her guns? This should be interesting.” Emma glanced at Heather’s computer. “Catching up on e-mail?”
    “Yes. I’ll be down in just a minute.”
    “All right. Please keep the door open a bit, so I can check on you during the night.”
    “Okay.” Heather waited for Emma to leave, then turned back to her computer. She Googled “Jean-Luc Echarpe” and found a few sites that sold his clothing. She ignored those and looked for personal information. She found a picture taken a year ago at his annual show in Paris. Dark curls, blue eyes, a hint of a dimple with his debonair smile. Sheesh, could the guy get any more gorgeous? Back