Free Deadly Obsession by Jaycee Clark

"No, take it to the lab."
    "Fine. Whatever. But not now, I’ll look at it later. Tomorrow or something. Or Sunday." She needed to get it out of here now.
    His brows furrowed and he only shook his head. "You are hiding something, Miss Bills. Or maybe even someone." He sighed and hefted the painting up.
    Hiding? If he only knew.
    She turned, opened the door for him and yelped.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
    "What the hell is going on?" Brayden asked, his voice tight. He looked from Christian’s shocked pale face to the man in her entryway.
    One Lieutenant Morris of the DCPD.
    He was a fool. All this time he’d been worried about her and....
    "Brayden?" Relief flashed across her features and he noticed the tremble in her voice. She leaned into the door.
    Morris only cocked a brow, and awkwardly carried a canvas toward the door.
    "What are you doing here?" Brayden asked the man.
    Christian opened the door further and motioned him in. He caught her scanning the darkness before she shut the door. And the darted look to Morris.
    Hell.
    She cleared her throat. "Well, my neighbors called him. Uh--yeah. My neighbors woke up to the pounding and saw all my lights were on. They got worried, me being a single female, so Geoffery called Gabe while Drayson made certain all was well," she said in a light tone.
    He wasn’t buying it. Nor did he look at her, his gaze was focused on the cop. Who didn’t look away, only smirked.
    Brayden wanted to wipe it off his face.
    Finally, the lieutenant looked at Christian. "I’ll call you later. I think you two need some time alone. And remember what I said."
    She nodded and reopened the door.
    What was with the painting? All he saw was the back of the canvas.
    When Morris was even with him, the man stopped. "It’s about time you got here. You might not be as dense as I was beginning to think you were. In this day and age, single attractive women living alone are just too tempting for some of the more twisted of our society...."
    "Goodnight, Gabe," Christian said tightly.
    The look Morris sent her was hardly lover-like. More like notched arrows. Then again, what did he know? Maybe he was a fool and they were in the middle of some fight. And....
    "What?" he finally asked, Morris’ words registering. "What did you mean, tempting twisted--"
    "Goodnight, Gabe," Christian interrupted and all but shoved the cop out with the door. "I’ll call you tomorrow about that appointment."
    The entryway echoed softly with the latch as the door closed.
    Brayden took a deep breath and tried to get his bearings. He’d broken several speeding laws to get here in the time he had.
    "Why didn’t you answer your phone?" he whispered.
    Christian didn’t immediately reply. Her hair was standing up in disarray, the way it did when she was frustrated or nervous and ran her fingers through it repeatedly.
    She’d lost weight. The pale skin on her face seemed taut, her eyes sunken, or maybe it was the dark circles beneath them.
    Finally, she shrugged, "I had some phone trouble."
    She walked past him and into the kitchen. Brayden followed. Christian was a contradiction. She sounded fine, played the situation as though it were the most normal event for him to show up at her door at nearly four in the morning to find another guy there. But he’d caught her relief and the tremble in her words. Her posture was seemingly normal, but it was almost too perfect, too coiled as if waiting to spring.
    At the kitchen, he followed the black cord like a dark snake and saw the phone lying shattered on the white tiled floor.
    Phone trouble?
    He leaned against the doorjamb and watched as she sat the coffee carafe on the machine and clicked the button. She was wearing those blue and gray pajama bottoms with a tight little camisole top, the striped top tossed on top of it.
    "Christian."
    Her shoulders stiffened.
    "What is going on? And don’t bother telling me nothing. What were you doing answering the door at this time of night? And why in the hell