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Authors: Anita M. Whiting

Tags: #Romantic Suspense

BOOK: A Killer's Agenda
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“What?”

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A Killer's Agenda

“He was outside that apartment, waiting. He knows we were

there.” Her eyes flashed to his, fear mirrored in their green depths as she slipped a pair of shoes on. “If he’s harmed that boy, I swear to God…”

He grabbed a tee shirt as he followed her out the door, sliding his arms into it. “You sure about this?”

She didn’t answer but simply raced down the hall, flying down the curved stairway and past a startled Betty Malone. Brad was barely in the car before she backed out, tires squealing. Minutes later, they turned down the street where the apartment was

located. Alex slowed, pounding the steering wheel.

“Damn it!”

The night was almost festive with the blue and red lights that flashed continuously from the two police cars and ambulance that was parked directly in front of them. People were huddled in small groups up and down the street, curiously facing the scene. Brad was just behind Alex as she sped up the concrete sidewalk, only stopping when her way was blocked by a uniform.

“Sorry, ma’am, you can’t go in there just yet.”

“I
have
to go in there. Is he hurt? Damn it, get out of my way!”

Brad pulled her back, tucking her under his arm. “I’m Brad

Norton and this is Alex Leahy, a private investigator. We have reason to believe someone might have harmed the young man who lives here as a result of an investigation we are currently in the middle of. A senior by the name of Tom Lakins.”

Alex’s heart stilled when she saw the expression in the

policeman’s eyes. He was saved from answering, however, as they were shoved aside to allow room for a gurney to squeeze through the door. Alex shrugged out of Brad’s arm and rushed to its side,

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Anita Whiting

taking in Tommy’s pale face. Despite that, he gave her a crooked grin.

“Tommy, I’m so sorry,” she said, squeezing his arm, fighting back tears.

“Hey, I’m okay.”

She took a deep breath. “Where are you hurt?”

He grimaced as he turned his head away from her and pointed

to bloody gauze on the side of his head. “Caught my head on the edge of the desk.” He turned back, his blue eyes finding her green ones. “You know that Irish thing we were talking about?” When she nodded, he continued. “Well, I think I owe my life to my ancestry.

Something told me to duck moments before a bullet plastered my computer screen.”

A quick flood of fury rushed through her. “Anyone else hurt?”

“No one else was home.”

“How did he get inside?”

“He didn’t get in,” he said, wincing as he shook his head. “My roommate left one of the windows open earlier and I hadn’t shut it when I started working on the computer. Bullet went right through the screen.”

She moved out of the way as the two men guiding the gurney

began to move forward and then walked swiftly alongside. “Wait, just a moment,” she said before they lifted him inside the

ambulance.

They glanced at her curiously as she placed a hand on each

side of his head.

She looked up shrugging. “Yoga technique of sorts,” she

explained hoping they would buy it. “Mind over matter stuff to relieve pain.”

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A Killer's Agenda

Closing her eyes, she absorbed the pain, allowing it to enter.

She almost enjoyed the way it forced her to concentrate on only that and not the tremendous guilt that lurked just beyond.

Moments later, she let her hands slide away and opened her eyes to find Tommy staring at her, his eyes widening for a brief moment.

“I’d say that you got a heck of a lot more of that Irish magic than I did,” he murmured, touching his head. “Whatever you did, I’d like you to do again when I have my next hangover, okay?”

She laughed, amazed at his resiliency. “You got it.”

Brad came up to put an arm around her as the ambulance

sped away. “The kid’s pretty amazing.”

She turned to him, a set look on her face. “It’s time to finish this before anyone else gets hurt. I think I know a way to flush Ferron out if you’re willing to go along.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

The dark was still illuminated by the cruiser bars as she

glanced back at the apartment building. She hated to keep the authorities in the dark but she couldn’t risk being seen.

Regretfully, she tugged Brad’s arm, pulling him into the shadows.

“Come on, I’ll explain when we go back to the house.”

“You aren’t going to talk to the police?” he asked in surprise.

“I can’t. Not if I want my plan to work.” She glanced around, moving toward the car quickly. “I imagine our gunman took off once he thought he’d hit Tommy, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

They drove into town and quickly grabbed a pizza, heading

back with Alex keeping a sharp eye in the rear view mirror.

The front porch light was still on as Brad opened the door for Alex. They could hear the television in the parlor and the low

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Anita Whiting

murmur of voices. Alex put a finger to her lips as they crept up the stairs. It was only after she had turned the lock to their room that she allowed herself to sink down on the mattress.

Brad set the pizza down and dug a thick piece out and handed it to Alex, helping himself as well.

“Care to tell me what it is you have in mind?” Brad asked,

leaning against the tall post of the bed and taking a bite.

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I don’t like any of this,” he said grimly.

“I think our Mr. Ferron might be quick and accurate with a gun but I also think he’s running scared right now. Going after Tommy doesn’t make any sense.
We
know he had Cory’s computer but Ferron had no way of knowing that. He’s just scared enough to be careless and just smart enough not to get caught. I’ll guarantee he’s got an alibi all set up if someone were to start asking questions. He’s banking on the fact that even if he didn’t kill Tommy he’d scare him into silence.”

“You want to set him up?”

She nodded, catching a dripping piece of cheese as she finished chewing. “I think he believes he injured or killed me earlier. My idea is to let him continue to think that.”

Brad’s eyes narrowed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

She curled her legs underneath her, looking up at him. “We

both know that since Corey didn’t leave his backup CD’s with Tommy, the only other person that makes sense would either be Wendy Rinaldi or her father. If her father had them, it’s a good bet she has them now.”

“So you want me to meet with them without your being there?”

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A Killer's Agenda

“He’s got to figure we’re going there next.” She leaned forward to pull him down beside her on the bed, smoothing his frown away with her fingers. He smiled for a brief moment, capturing her hand, but the frown returned as she continued. “He doesn’t have any idea we’re emotionally involved, Brad. As far as he knows, I’m simply the agent hired to investigate your aunt’s murder. It won’t seem unusual for you to continue without me.”

“So where will you be?” he asked.

“In another car following discreetly behind you. While you’re inside I’ll be watching and waiting.”

“You sure it’s Ferron that’s stalking us?”

“No, but I think it’s a pretty good possibility. Rosa believes, like I’m beginning to, that the man is a sociopath. He kills because he can, because he’s richer than God. Probably gets a high from that kind of sick power. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility he’s discovered his hired gun is dead and has decided to take care of things himself.” She glanced out the window and then back at the man sitting next to her. “You’re next on his list,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

“You do?”

He nodded. “We stop the investigation, case closed and end of story. I’m the only one left to prevent that if he really believes he’s eliminated you. It sounds as if he’s got this Wendy Fox running scared. No one else is in possession of all the facts and he’ll make damn sure in whatever way he needs to that it stays that way.”

“Very good, Holmes,” she said, trying to lighten the suddenly tense atmosphere. “Keep it up and I just might hire you.”

The smile didn’t materialize as she expected it to. Instead he looked past her, scowling. “All those lives changed forever, people

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Anita Whiting

killed, families destroyed for no reason other than one man’s greed.” His gaze flipped back to hers, fire smoldering in their dark depths. “I want him, Alex. I’d like to take my hand and smash it into his face just so I can mar that pretty boy image he’s worked so hard at.”

“I had no idea you had such a violent temper,” she said, feeling, sensing, his restrained fury and understanding it, yet wanting to ease the pain she felt underneath. “As an investigator, I could only ignore that kind of behavior on one condition.”

“Yeah? And what’s the condition?” he asked lifting a brow.

She raised one slender leg and contemplated it. “When you’re finished, you allow me to aim one well-placed kick.”

He was silent for a split second and then pulled her backward with him onto the mattress, laughing. “I had no idea you would resort to such primitive measures. I hope you don’t make a habit of doing such things.”

She inhaled his clean male scent, her eyes dancing as they met his. “Primitive measures? You mean like this?” she said, tugging on his hair to pull his lips to hers. “Or this?” She murmured against them, scratching her nails along his chest just hard enough to leave a trail of heat.

“Nope,” he said, sliding over her and capturing her arms above her head. “Like this.”

He started a slow journey with his lips down her neck, nibbling and tasting his way lower and lower until she was shivering, needles of desire shooting through her.

“Brad…” she gasped huskily.

“Hmmm…” he answered, kissing the velvet skin on her inner

thigh.

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“I think I need primitive. Now!”

For one brief second, she could see the desire, the purpose in his eyes and then sensations took over. Wild, fabulous sensations that had both of them gasping for air and clinging together. The still sane part of her knew that they needed the sex, the mindless pleasure to block the dark side of what they had experienced in the last few days. She arched, clinging to his broad shoulders, letting the hot flashes of heat build, expand. For one brief moment, their eyes met, melded and then closed as sensations swift and strong exploded between them. Their mingled breaths were short and

sharp, fighting for control when that was impossible. They floated for one spine-tingling moment and then dived together.

Only very slowly did she become aware of their surroundings, her heavy-lidded eyes slowly opening to gaze up at the tall ceiling with its intricate molding. Brad shifted, pulling her next to him, his eyes still dark with passion as she nestled against his shoulder.

“Hey, promise me something,” she murmured sleepily against

his chest.

“What?”

“Try not to lose that caveman mentality. I kind of like it.”

He laughed, sending new shivers down her spine as he

caressed her naked back. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yep,” she said, turning and stretching, giving him a tantalizing view without realizing it.

He yanked her back and she looked up at him startled, seeing the passion in his eyes beginning to smolder once again.

“Brad, no!” she protested laughing. “You’re taking this cave man thing just a little too far, aren’t you?”

“Me, Tarzan, you, Jane,” he muttered.

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Anita Whiting

Her laugh turned to a groan as he ran his teeth along her

shoulder, frissons of renewed desire shivering through her. She wrapped her arms around his muscled back and moved

seductively beneath him, enjoying the way his breath quickened, empowered by it.

“Jane doesn’t think Tarzan is young boy anymore,” she taunted breathlessly.

“I think I’ve just been insulted,” he growled, lips curving

dangerously as he bent his head, nipping her shoulder lightly, then her arm, grazing his teeth along the curve of her breast.

“If the truth hurts…” she began, her eyes widening as he rose and slid inside. Her head fell back as he pulled her up and over, that last part of sanity completely disappearing as wave after wave of molten heat cascaded through her body.

It was only as she was sliding back, vulnerable, that an image pushed its way inside her head before she could stop it. Her blood froze, the sensations disappearing as if they’d never been.

He was laying so still, blood everywhere, those beautiful dark eyes lifeless. It was then she heard the laughter. Horribly chillingly, cold laughter as she ran screaming toward the man she loved. She lifted his lolling head, sobbing, raising her eyes accusingly at…

The vision was gone just like that. She clutched the

reassuringly warm feel of him in her arms and willed her heart to slow, taking a suddenly deep, angry breath. There was no way in hell she would allow that vision to become reality.

But maybe this time you can’t stop it.
The unwelcome thought pierced her heart and she was afraid…so afraid…

* * *

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A Killer's Agenda

The shades silhouetted more than they hid. Although the cries of passion were muffled by the closed windows, Ferron sat in the car below watching and waiting, his imagination filling in what he couldn’t see.

“Enjoy the sex tonight, people,” he muttered, aroused at the thought. He allowed himself the luxury of imagining the sexy redhead naked, pounding inside of her. He didn’t doubt he could make her hot for him. Shame she wouldn’t ever have the pleasure.

He put a hand on the gun next to him on the seat. It irked him that he had missed earlier. He wouldn’t again. His gaze slid back to the window.

That’s right, lady. You and your stud enjoy screwing tonight because it’ll be your last for a long time.

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