Blood Ties by Kay Hooper Page B

them no matter how relaxed they might appear, that inner wariness and tension, that alertness to their surroundings.
    To danger.
    The slightly taller of the two men was the least successful at hiding the coiled spring of readiness inside him. Every move he made—even simply walking with a cat-footed lightness—gave it away. He had good instincts, very good instincts. And quite probably more than mere instincts.
    Otherwise he never would have been able to save the Templeton woman’s life.
    “Take her out if you get the chance,”
    More than one chance had come and gone. But there would doubtless be another.
    He watched them walking away from him. It was a short street, all things considered, with short small-town blocks that city blocks would have sneered at, and he was able to watch the group, without leaving the shelter of his alley, all the way to the B&B.
    An easy building to get inside. He had, the previous night, and had taken the time to look around, so he was completely familiar with the layout. Just in case.
    He watched them go up the steps to the wide front porch and linger momentarily in the welcoming light at the door before being invited inside. The door closed behind them, and they passed from his view.
    Just about to turn and go on to other chores scheduled for tonight, he was halted by a glimpse of movement in the shadows of the sidewalk near the B&B. He had to narrow his gaze and concentrate intensely, but within seconds he made out the shape of another watcher flitting along in the dark and quiet wake of the feds.
    He wasn’t sure if the other watcher was a man or a woman; whoever it was clung to the shadows as though a part of them, giving away little of any other substance or shape. And when that moving shadow settled down at last, it was in one corner of the small front yard the B&B boasted, among tall shrubbery and inside the wrought-iron fence that was more decorative than protective.
    A car drove quietly past, and the watcher noted that the other one was so completely hidden by the shrubbery or by skill that even the passing headlights failed to expose him—or her.
    He hesitated a moment longer than he should have, then withdrew slowly back through the alley to where he had parked his own car, mentally adding another player to the game. An unknown player, with unknown motives.
    Interesting…
    It was nearly ten o’clock that evening when Miranda stepped from her room out onto the second-floor balcony that wrapped three sides of the Victorian-era building. She wasn’t yet dressed for bed, which was a good thing since the temperature hovered just a few degrees above freezing. Comfortable in her sweater and jeans, she leaned against the high railing and looked up and down the very quiet, softly lit Main Street of Serenade.
    “Like a postcard, isn’t it?” The low voice came from behind her, near the corner of the building where the balcony turned along its side. “The perfect come-and-visit-us view the chamber of commerce wants the outside world to see.”
    Miranda didn’t look around but replied quietly, “They so often do, these sweet little towns—look picture-postcard perfect and so inviting. Maybe that’s why the monsters hunt in them.” It was a truth she had learned several years before. *
    “Yeah. Isolated geographically and technologically. Where, even if people lock their doors, the locks are easy to pick or break and the only other security consists of the family dog sleeping at the foot of the bed. A town small enough that most know their neighbors but not so small that strangers are seen as a threat—especially since they bring tourist dollars when they come to visit the Blue Ridge.”
    “Not many visit here, I’d say. Only a couple more B&Bs in the area, both smaller than this one.”
    “And one fleabag motel. Yeah, I saw that.”
    “Figured you would. What else did you see?”
    “You guys were being watched. All the way from the sheriff’s department. While you were