Guarding the Socialite by Kimberly Van Meter Page A

mollified, she gestured toward her office, eager to put an end to whatever was happening and return to the business at hand. “This way, please. The letter is in my office.”
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    Dillon sensed there was something going on with Emma, but the sight of her at the door had sucked the air from his lungs in the most disconcerting way. Her long blond hair was swept in a neat ponytail away from her heart-shaped face, revealing high cheekbones that hinted at Nordic ancestry. She wore no-nonsense black slacks, yet the crisp, white shirt paired with a brilliant necklace strung from looping stones of turquoise sent boring galloping down the road to be replaced with sexy and hot.
    She was thanking him and walking toward her office when he was finally able to tear his gaze away from her and shake himself back to normal. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said, more apology in her tone. “But everyone is on edge lately because of recent events and…well, it seemed prudent to make you aware.”
    â€œYou made the right decision,” he said, pulling a pair of gloves from his pocket and snapping them on as he approached the desk. He lifted the envelope carefully and using the sharp pewter letter opener, he slid it open and peered inside. “I think it’s safe to assume there’s no anthrax in here,” he said, smiling, but there was something that put his nerves on edge. He was careful not to touch the envelope more than necessary. He pulled the letter free and gingerly set it aside. After determining there was nothing else in the envelope, he opened the letter.
    â€œI think we need to get this to the lab,” he said, his voice tight.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Emma asked.
    He stared at the innocuous sheet of white paper, folded with three precise folds so that each crease matched perfectly and the familiar trickle of dread played a tune on his spinal cord.
    Three words. Printed neatly. No signature.
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    Practice Makes Perfect.
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    The killer had just made contact with Emma Vale…and Dillon didn’t like that one bit.

Chapter 5
    E mma’s mouth dropped open on a gasp and she took a faltering step backward as if whoever penned the cryptic note was going to spring from the page. “What does it mean?” she asked, though she had a pretty good idea. She just wanted Dillon to tell her she was wrong.
    He didn’t.
    â€œSomeone is trying to get your attention,” he said grimly, tucking the letter back into the envelope before grabbing his phone from his pants pocket. He dialed before she could ask another question that she didn’t want to know the answer to. “Yeah, I need an evidence kit and a team. I think the killer has made personal contact with Ms. Vale. I don’t know…I’ll find out. In the meantime, I need forensics. There might be some trace DNA left behind.”
    DNA, evidence…it was all too surreal to even digest properly. Why would someone send her something like this? Was it possible that someone was laughing at her expense?Setting her nerves on edge simply for the entertainment value? But who would do such a thing? She couldn’t imagine. Nor could she imagine why whoever had ended Charlotte’s life was now fixating on her. Perhaps this was all a misunderstanding…
    â€œYou okay? You look a little pale,” Dillon observed, his brows coming together as he pocketed his phone. She jerked a short nod but couldn’t actually get the words to come out. He seemed to understand and took control. “Come sit a minute while you get over the shock. It’s going to be all right,” he promised as he guided her into a soft, high-backed chair farthest from the window. “We have the best team right here in San Francisco. If there’s even a hint of DNA left behind, they’ll find it. Now, tell me who brought you the mail this morning?”
    â€œChick. She always gets the mail for me,” she