Free SEE HER DIE by Debra Webb

a mile away—they all looked the same. Same fancy suits, same designer sunglasses and the same superior attitude.
    Boomer was right about the attitude, she decided as she put the lid back on the fresh bucket of paint she’d had to open an hour or so ago. MacBride had enough cocky male attitude for a dozen men. That much testosterone in one guy could be unnerving. She shivered. Only this time it had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with awareness.
    Okay. Time to call it a day. Whenever she started fantasizing about the guy attempting to pin a murder rap on her, it was definitely time for a break. It was late. She was tired. She’d have to work tomorrow. Working on Sunday was her least favorite thing to do, but finishing up this loft was essential. She’d just have to grin and bear it come morning. She glanced at the time on her cell. It was well past ten and she’d obviously gotten punchy. Too little sleep and far too much pressure, not a good combination under any circumstances. A decent night’s sleep would do wonders for her ability to think straight. The final finishing touches could wait until morning. But she wouldn’t ask Boomer to help on Sunday. He probably still had a social life.
    “I’ll finish up here,” she said to Boomer when he noticed her putting away her tools. “You go on. I’ll see you on Monday.”
    A frown creased his brow. “I’ll just hang around and walk you out,” he offered, ever the protector.
    She shook her head. He’d already put in far more hours than his meager salary covered, but he’d insisted on helping her catch up. “No. Really. I’ll be okay.” She shrugged. “Who’s going to bother me with my very own federal agent watching?”
    He crossed to the opposite side of the room and peered out the window. “He’s still out there, all right.” Boomer muttered a couple of inventive curses. “I don’t know why you put up with it. They got no right watching you like this.”
    “It’s okay.” She ushered him into the dimly lit hallway and pointed to the elevator. “Now go. I’ll be fine.”
    Reluctance slowing his step, Boomer shuffled to the only exit. He hesitated before boarding the antique lift. “Don’t let ‘em see you sweat, Elizabeth.” His gaze settled on hers. “We both know you didn’t kill that prick.” He pushed open the iron bars that served as a door to the elevator, then paused to look back at her once more before boarding. “But he deserved exactly what he got.”
    Boomer stepped into the elevator and pulled the bars closed before setting it in to motion. His gaze remained steady on hers until he was out of sight. A new worry nagged at her as she shuffled back into the loft.
    How often had she complained about Ned in front of Boomer? She hadn’t told him everything, but she’d gone on and on about how he’d used her, how he’d hurt her.
    Surely Boomer hadn’t—
    No! She refused to believe any such thing. MacBride’s innuendo about Boomer’s past was messing with her head. She knew Boomer. He wouldn’t kill another human being any more than she would.
    Elizabeth made quick work of putting away the tools of her trade. She refused to dwell on a concept as ridiculous as one involving Boomer and murder. The whole idea was just another indicator of how badly she needed a good night’s sleep.
    When she was ready to go, she glanced out the window to see if the sedan was still there. Yep. Right there in the alley across the street. The driver had backed in so he could pull out behind her without any real effort. She wondered if cops and agents were trained to do that to ensure they didn’t lose their surveillance target while turning around. Probably.
    As the old lift lowered to the still-under-construction area that would eventually serve as a sophisticated lobby for the building, she couldn’t help thinking what a monumental waste of time the surveillance of her movements really was. If the feds expended half as much effort on