Free Forever Mine by Carolann Camillo

killer.”
    “I hear you, partner,” Ben said.
    Thompson left via the rear door and headed for the alley and his car. He always parked on a side street away from the prying eyes of Allie’s safety patrol. For the same reason, Ben always cruised the block, keeping an eye out for nosy neighbors—and especially Dave and Jimmy—before he pulled into Allie’s garage.
    The day before, he’d asked Allie for a better description of Jimmy. She’d grabbed a pen and artist’s pad and whipped out a sketch every bit as professionally executed as the police artist’s sketch of Barnett. He’d found out sketching was one of the classes taught at the San Francisco campus of the Art Institute where she’d studied fashion design. He’d told her if she ever wanted to change careers to look into a job with the SFPD as a sketch artist. Instead of taking it as a compliment, she’d wrinkled her nose.
    He called out to her to let her know he’d entered the house then checked his watch. Ten minutes after twelve. He was glad now there was the lunch at the Beach Chalet to break the routine.
    “What time do you want to leave?” He leaned into the banister at the foot of the stairs but didn’t raise his voice, figuring she was close enough to hear him. He waited a few seconds. When he got no reply, he moved onto the lower landing and called out again, louder this time. She didn’t answer again, so he climbed the rest of the way. He had just turned into the hall when a door opened and she walked out of the bathroom and smacked into him. Her hands flew to her chest as if to doubly secure the pink bath towel, which was all she wore except for a pair of white fuzzy slippers.

 
    Chapter Seven
     
     
     
    “Aaaagh.” She screamed directly into his ear then clamped her teeth together. Her facial skin tightened around her features, and he was sure, if she dared take one hand off the towel, she would use it to cause some serious damage to his face.
    Quickly, he backed up. His right heel went over the edge of the top step, and he grabbed the banister before he did a back flip to the first floor. He regained his balance and waited for the shock that came from such close contact with her to subside. Her shock was still visible in her wide-open eyes. Her face contorted into a grimace, not from actual pain but definitely from something that went way past annoyance.
    Her dark hair coiled around several large rollers that sprouted on her head. Her skin, moist and dewy, glowed. She looked ten years younger than her age, which he knew from the background check he’d run on her. She also had the best pair of legs he’d ever seen on a woman.
    “Sorry,” he mumbled.
    “Can you please stay out of my way?” She scurried down the hall and into the bedroom. Her free hand grasped the doorknob. Seconds later, the door closed with a loud crack.
    He stomped into the kitchen and ripped into one of the colas he’d stored there the previous day. Tension stabbed at a spot between his eyes as if a dark cloud had drifted in from some hellish place and floated above his head. He looked forward to the next twelve hours almost as much as a condemned man looked forward to his execution. He could hardly wait to get his hands on Barnett. Nothing would satisfy him more than to take down the son-of-a-bitch.
    While he sipped his drink, he listened for sounds from the bedroom. Other than the scrape of the closet door sliding on the track, quiet reigned in the princess’s chamber. He’d wait for her downstairs except she had stuff for her competition lying all over the place. He hated to think what would happen if he left even one minuscule spot on any of the clothes. Yesterday, a dress, in a dark red material, had draped one of the body forms. Cut pretty low, it clung to the fake hips. Before he could stop himself, he imagined the dress draped over Ms. Nash’s curvy hips. Her curves were hard to beat. No, make that impossible to beat. The fleeting image earned him a