High-Risk Homecoming. Alison Stone

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СКАЧАТЬ as if someone had thrown the roller across the room.

      Whoever had been here was long gone. He twisted the handle on the back door and found it unlocked. He peered into the alleyway. Other than a large Dumpster and some trash cans, it was empty. He strode over and checked the Dumpster. The pungent smell of garbage clogged his nose, but there was no sign of any stowaway.

      The shop’s alarm went silent. He returned to the back entrance of the storage room to find Ellie standing in the doorway leading to the shop. She was using the top of her shirtsleeve to wipe at the paint dots on her face. “I turned off the alarm. Police should be here soon.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “He’s gone?”

      “Yeah.”

      “Well, thanks for coming to the rescue. The police should be here. You can go.” She crossed her arms and studied the gun in his hand. A mix of caution and concern pinched the corners of her mouth.

      “I’d rather wait for the police to arrive if it’s all right with you.”

      Ellie rubbed her forearms and narrowed her gaze at him, and seemed to look at him for the first time. Really look at him. A shadow of emotion crossed behind her eyes. An emotion he couldn’t quite read.

      Johnny scratched his forehead and decided he better identify himself. “I met you a long time ago. I was a friend of your brother’s.” Was being the operative word.

      “Johnny...Johnny Rock. Yeah, I recognized you as soon as my nerves calmed down and I realized my life wasn’t in imminent danger.” Her eyes grew dark. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved to Buffalo.” The brutal sting of accusation was evident in her tone, suggesting she wished he had stayed in Buffalo.

      Johnny tucked his gun back in its holster. “I’m an FBI agent assigned to the Buffalo office.”

      Ellie made a soft sound at the back of her throat but didn’t say anything.

      “I’m back in Williamstown to help my grandfather move.” It was the truth, but not the entire truth.

      Her perfectly groomed eyebrows shot up. “He’s selling the house on Treehaven Road?” A faraway look descended into her blue eyes and a smile curved her pink lips. “I always liked that house. I tried to paint it a time or two.”

      “Paint it?” Johnny’s gaze dropped to the upturned paint tray on the floor.

      She laughed.

      He liked the sound of it.

      Ellie shook her head. “I paint walls out of necessity. I prefer to paint landscapes. On canvas. It’s my true calling.”

      Johnny nodded. “What happened here tonight?”

      “I had the door propped open.” She shrugged. “Yeah, I know. Stupid.” She took in a deep breath, then wrinkled her nose. “I can’t stand the fumes. I get migraines. Never thought someone would sneak in and attack me.”

      He thought he noticed her shiver.

      “Are you hurt?” He took a step forward and stopped when she flinched.

      “I’m fine.”

      “Have you had any problems at your shop before?”

      She shook her head, her auburn hair with red highlights dropping over one eye. She wrapped her arms around her middle. “I haven’t even opened the shop yet.” A look—an apology, maybe—crossed her delicate features. A faint splash of freckles dotted her porcelain skin.

      “The person who attacked me said something about a package.” The color drained from her face.

      “Do you know what he was talking about?” Johnny studied her closely.

      “No, I have no idea.”

      “If someone was in here, they exited through the back.” He hated to be Captain Obvious, but he didn’t know what else to tell her. He pulled open the door and checked the alley again. He had a clear view east to Eagle Street and west to Spring Street. “Whoever was here is long gone.” He closed the door and locked it.

      Johnny opened his mouth to say something when he noticed a green-and-white police cruiser pull up alongside the curb out front. “The police are here.”

      Ellie and Johnny walked through the shop and out onto Main Street. The window on the police cruiser slid down. Johnny recognized Officer Mickey Bailey, now a decade older and a few pounds heavier than when they’d first met, but easily identified as the right fielder on the only Williamstown High School baseball team that might have made it to the state championship.

      Until the scandal.

      Mickey didn’t bother to get out of the cruiser, preoccupied as he was with the laptop open on his console. “Alarm go off here?”

      “Yes. I shut it off before you arrived,” Ellie said, her voice more confident now than when she’d first run out of the shop.

      “Hey, Mickey.” Johnny approached the cruiser.

      Mickey’s eye twitched and he looked up from the computer screen. Recognition swept over his ruddy features. His lips tightened as if to say, “Why doesn’t it surprise me that you’re here?” Mickey collected himself and hid his apparent disdain behind a smug smile. There was no love lost between the two men.

      Mickey tapped the door with his open palm, then pushed it open. “Hey there, Johnny. What brings you to town?” The officer stepped onto the sidewalk and pulled on the waistband of his pants.

      Johnny wondered briefly if the officer was taunting him. Mickey knew exactly why Johnny was in town. He was here to track the source of illegal drugs. The police department had agreed to keep his presence quiet.

      Easier to catch the bad guys that way.

      Ellie spoke up before Johnny had a chance. “He’s helping his grandfather move.”

      Johnny detected a bite to her tone.

      Mickey jutted his lower lip out and gave her a curt nod. “Is that so?” No doubt, several of the officers resented the FBI working what they considered their case. Rumor had it that a few of the officers had had their backsides handed to them in a sling for not tracking down the source of drugs before the nasty stuff claimed the life of a promising high school student.

      Johnny jerked his thumb toward the shop. “Ellie was attacked in the back of the shop.”

      The officer’s eyes showed the first sign of interest. “Did you see the guy? Can you give me a description?”

      Ellie’s cheeks grew flushed and she shook her head, as if she somehow was to blame. “He was wearing a black hoodie, which now has orange paint on it. He was muttering something about a package.” She plucked at her own orange-stained T-shirt. “I whacked him with my paint roller.”

      “Good for you.” The officer gave her a once-over that made Johnny suddenly feel possessive; a feeling he didn’t have a right to. “You hurt? Need an ambulance?”

      Johnny lifted his hand to touch Ellie’s back, СКАЧАТЬ