Fatal Intimacies (Romantic Suspense) by Isabelle Ali Page A

the best economic model was, or whether Jean Paul Sartre was insane or brilliant.
    These conversations she missed. It felt like when she got out of college they disappeared. The few friends she had never discussed ideas, and co-workers discussed them even less. Becoming an adult seemed to somehow include the notion that ideas and their power were for children.
    After an hour or so in the coffee shop, she then drove around the city. A google search came back with the top ten places someone had to visit in Seattle and she went to a few of them. Two museums and the fish markets.
    It was evening by the time she decided to head back to her hotel. After a hot shower and changing into a robe, she flopped onto the bed and turned on the television. As she lay in bed watching a rerun of Modern Family , she realized she craved something chocolaty. She swung her legs around to get dressed and grab something from the gift shop in the lobby when she noticed something near the door. An envelope.
    She walked to it and lifted it. Something was inside. She opened the door and glanced down both sides of the hallway, but no one was there. After shutting the door, she opened the envelope. Inside was a photograph. It was Michelle.
    She was nude with blood spattered on her neck. Her face was twisted in terror and the photo was somewhat blurry from movement. She was screaming.
    It was a photograph of her sister dying.

14
     
     
     
     
    Jessica sat on the bed. She had changed into jeans and a sweatshirt. Two uniformed officers were outside in the hallway and Garcia was speaking to them. He came back inside the room and bent down in front of her so they were eye level.
    “You okay?” he said softly.
    She nodded, but couldn’t muster the strength to say anything.
    “They’re going to canvas the entire hotel. Afterward, we’re going to take turns outside your room. No one’s getting in here. Do you understand? … Hey, Jessica, look at me. No one’s getting in here.”
    She nodded. “Okay.”
    He exhaled and rose, glancing around the room. “The balcony’s secure. No one could climb up without being spotted. This door’s the only way in or out of the room. I’m checking with the hotel to see if they have a camera up on this floor. I think I saw one by the elevators. We’re going to catch him, Jessica. He won’t have a chance to hurt you.”
    She rubbed her arms . “That picture…”
    “I know. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
    Tears came and she couldn’t stop them. “I don’t think that image is going to leave me for the rest of my life.”
    He nodded. “You’ll learn to live with it.”
    “How?”
    “I don’t know. But you do. I have a thousand of those images. All as fresh as the moment I saw them. You learn to deal with it and, over time, you figure it out.”
    She wiped away her tears with the back of her hands. “I have to go somewhere.”
    “Where?”
    “I’ll be right back.”
    “I’ll send one of the uniforms with you.”
    “No,” she said, rising. “No, I won’t let him determine how I live. I’m going out for an hour and I’ll be back.”
    Garcia hesitated. “I think you should stay here. For now.”
    “I’ll be back.”
    Jessica brushed past him and out into the hall. Partly, it was an act of rebelli on. How dare he frighten her so much? But in reality, all she wanted to do was lock the door and never go out. That’s exactly why she did need to go out. She didn’t want to be one of those people that imprisons themselves in fear. She had to go out, and go out by herself.
    Once she was in the car, she started it and googled the nearest gun stores. The closest one was almost twenty minutes away.
    Driving there, the rain stopped. The clouds remained, giving the city a dull gray sheen. She listened to soft music on the stereo and kept it turned low.
    The gun store was one story and next to a strip club. The first thing Jessica saw when she walked in was a poster of the statue of liberty with a