Triumph by Janet Dailey Read Free Book Online Page B

saw no one.
    But a sports car was racing toward her, an expensive model with slanting headlights. The blinding halogen glare hurt her eyes until the car whizzed past in a spray of dirt and gravel. Blinking, Kelly looked down and brushed at her dress. No harm done.
    She straightened the evening bag on a thin chain over her shoulder and looked up at the same second as a man stepped out of the darkness and came toward her.
    Instantly, Kelly unclasped the bag, searching for the slim canister of Mace she carried before he stopped a little distance away. She palmed it, hoping she wouldn’t have to use it. Her well-honed reporter’s skills tried to peg him.
    Tourist, maybe. Staying at a pricey hotel if so. Good suit. Conservative tie and haircut. Middle-aged, going gray. Regular features. Pale-colored eyes. His face betrayed no particular expression.
    “Hey there. Aren’t you Kelly Johns?”
    Be nice to the fans. She wasn’t sure if that applied under the circumstances.
    “Just making sure,” he added in a polite voice.
    “Yes, I am.” She stepped sideways toward the street to go around the man. “But I can’t chat, sorry. My driver is waiting for me around the corner—”
    “Is he?” He looked over her shoulder.
    She pointed and kept going with a fast lie. “He’s right there—”
    “Watch out!” He reached out to take her arm and stop her. His grip conveyed a strength that scared her—and made her drop the Mace.
    In another second a black sedan sped by in silence, the whoosh of air ruffling her dress. The man watched it go.
    “Must be one of those hybrids,” he said pleasantly enough. “I didn’t hear it coming, did you?”
    “No. Now let go of me,” she snapped, thoroughly rattled when he released her and bent down to pick up the Mace, holding the cylinder out to her.
    “You dropped this.” He still blocked her way. His courteous tone didn’t hide the fact that he stood a fraction too close, even without touching her. She felt violated by his nearness and angry—but she took the Mace.
    He moved around her and went on his way. Kelly stared after him. At the end of the block, another man, not as tall, materialized out of the shadows and joined him. Neither looked back at her before they walked quickly around the corner.
    Her moment of unease before the man had stepped out of the dark came back to her with startling clarity. She had been followed. The two men must have communicated somehow with each other as she walked, moving closer until she had been unknowingly caught between them.
    Kelly ran the rest of the way to the garage. She’d never been so happy to be under glaring fluorescent lights and wait in line for her car. The attendant rolled up fast with it when the other customers were gone. The Lone Star decoration on the mirror was still swinging when she got in. That and the headrest-high stack of file boxes on the front passenger seat was how she picked it out from other, similar vehicles. Other than that, there was nothing special about her car.
    Driving home, she kept looking into the rearview mirror, partly because she was scared and partly because she was speeding. Through her rolled-up window, she nodded to the doorman at her condo building when he stepped forward. He was a big guy. She felt fractionally safer just looking at him. He welcomed her with a tip of his hat and turned away to ring for a valet who would park her car in the adjoining multistory garage. They were good about keeping her car near the elevators. Once in a blue moon they put it on the roof of the garage where she could see it from her window high above.
    Right now she didn’t care where they left it. Kelly stuck an arm through the front seats to retrieve a knit poncho from the back before she got out. Yes, she was almost home, but she wanted to be wrapped in something huge and shapeless.
    Yanking the poncho over her head, she made sure the key was in the ignition and got out, moving past the doorman and through the