Beneath the Badge. Rita Herron
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Название: Beneath the Badge

Автор: Rita Herron

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика

Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue

isbn: 9781472060464

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ from the lived-in look and feminine furnishings, he guessed it was Taylor’s room. A black satin robe lay draped across the bed and a pair of slippers peeked from beneath the footboard. The room looked like her—tasteful, classy, soft.

      For a moment, he imagined her sprawled on the satin sheets wearing nothing but a skimpy teddy or…nothing at all, and his body hardened with desire.

      He quickly shook off the image. What in the hell was wrong with him?

      An iPod and speaker system sat opposite the bed on a cluster of shelves holding candles, and in the corner a dresser held a silver brush and comb set and a jewelry box. He wondered if Taylor kept all her jewelry so accessible, but assumed she had a built-in safe somewhere in the house for her more expensive pieces. When she was released from the hospital, he’d have her check the house to see if anything was missing.

      A bay window with chaise and reading lamp occupied one corner with a window seat separating two oversized chairs. He bypassed them and entered an elegant bath in blue and white, and a set of closets. Inside, he clenched his jaw at the sight of glittery gowns, expensive wraps, designer shoes and business suits. The second closet held Taylor’s casual clothes, he assumed, since it was filled with sundresses, slacks, designer sweaters, and one wall housed shelves holding bathing suits and summer wear.

      He snarled. His yearly salary wouldn’t equal her monthly clothing allowance.

      It didn’t matter. He had to focus on his mission.

      The rooms were empty, and didn’t look as if they’d been touched by an intruder, meaning the perpetrator probably hadn’t attacked her with the intention of theft.

      So not a break-in gone awry. The perp’s intentions had been more sinister—murder.

      Moving on, he searched the other rooms, sighing as he descended the steps. Just as he was bypassing the office, he noticed a broken fingernail caught on the edge of the rug by the desk. He stooped and picked it up, wondering who it belonged to. The phone jangled so he bagged the fingernail, then hurried to the desk and checked the caller ID. An international call. Her father?

      He picked up the receiver. “Taylor Landis’s residence.”

      A long moment of silence. “Who in the hell is this?”

      “Sergeant Hayes Keller, Texas Ranger. Whom am I speaking with?”

      “Lionel Landis. What’s going on? Why are you at my daughter’s house? And why are you answering her phone?”

      Hayes grimaced at the man’s condescending tone. But he had a right to know his daughter had been attacked. And Hayes had to explore every angle. If the assault on Taylor wasn’t related to Kimberly’s murder, it might have something to do with the wealthy Landis family. Then he’d need information on the family and their business dealings.

      “Sir, I hate to have to tell you this, but your daughter was assaulted tonight.”

      “What? My God, is she all right?”

      “Yes, sir. But the paramedics transported her to the hospital for X-rays and observation.”

      “I heard about those break-ins in the community. Was that what this was about?”

      “I don’t know yet, but I can assure you I’ll find out.”

      A long pause. “Maybe I should hire a bodyguard to watch her around the clock.”

      Hayes clenched his jaw. Odd that her father didn’t offer to fly back to see her himself. Instead, he wanted to send hired help.

      A private bodyguard would mean Hayes wouldn’t have to spend time with Taylor himself.

      But damn. He was a ranger, and he had to finish this case, find the man who’d tried to kill Taylor. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Landis. I’ll personally provide protection for your daughter 24-7.”

      He hung up the phone but noticed the desk drawer ajar and examined it. The bottom drawer had been jimmied, papers tossed around.

      The killer had been in this room. He’d have CSI dust it for prints.

      What had he been looking for?

      EXHAUSTION WEIGHED ON TAYLOR as the nurse helped her settle into the hospital bed. She’d been treated, had blood drawn, undergone an EKG, then wheeled to X-ray where they’d x-rayed her chest and lungs. Thankfully all the tests were clear.

      Other than nearly dying tonight, she was healthy.

      Still, they’d hooked her up to an IV, checked her vitals, then the nurse offered her a sedative. But Taylor expected Sergeant Keller to show up any minute to question her, and she wanted to be coherent.

      Besides, she avoided taking pills or medications unless it was absolutely necessary. Too many people she’d met at parties relied on drugs or alcohol for recreation and survival, and she was determined not to fall into that dangerous lifestyle so often portrayed in the tabloids as the rich and careless.

      Still, fatigue pulled at her, and she finally dozed off. But nightmares of the attack haunted her, and she tossed and turned, battling the terrifying memories.

      She was running, fighting, struggling for air, being pushed under the water, held down…drowning.

      She woke, gasping for air, her heart racing. Gray had settled over the room like a fog, the sound of someone breathing echoing in the quiet. Panic shot through her.

      Oh, God, her attacker had come here to finish killing her.

      She threw off the covers to run, but suddenly two firm hands gripped her arms. “Shh, Taylor, it’s me. Hayes.”

      She was just about to scream, but the sound of his husky voice registered, and she stifled a sob.

      “I didn’t mean to scare you, but you were sleeping.”

      She relaxed against him, but her heart was still pounding. “I was dreaming about the attack….”

      He smoothed her hair from her cheek, then eased down onto the edge of the bed. “It’s over now. You’re safe.”

      She nodded and forced herself to block out the terrifying images from her nightmare. Despite her efforts, her hand went to her throat.

      “You didn’t find him at the house?” she asked.

      He shook his head, and she noticed he was wearing the same jeans and shirt he had on when he’d pulled her from the pool. They were still damp, and he must be uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem to notice.

      “Your assailant caused the power outage by tampering with the circuit breakers, but I didn’t find anyone inside. CSI is dusting for prints and searching both the inside and outside, as well, for footprints, fibers, anything that might help us identify him.”

      “He didn’t steal anything?”

      “Not that I could tell. But you’ll need to inventory your valuables, jewelry, etcetera, to verify if anything is missing.”

      “I’ll do that tomorrow when I get home.”

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