Magic Rising by Jennifer Cloud Page B

and stale air enveloped her. She eased across the room and listened. Heavy footfalls filled the first floor. The sound traveled back and forth, moving then stopping. Someone downstairs was pacing, not crouched and ready for the kill. But what better ruse to trap her?
    She eased open the door and inched toward the open landing just after the hall. Through the pine slats, she had a good view of the first floor where a man walked between the windows, peering out every few minutes. He had a heavy beard. His bones jutted sharply from his too thin body. He wore a flannel shirt and jeans. Both were thin and dirty, worn long beyond their use. On his shoulder sat a shotgun, no doubt loaded for whoever stepped inside. That weapon made her nervous. It took no finesse to kill with it, especially loaded with buckshot. A general aim in the right direction would wipe out the target.
    His stride stopped halfway across the floor. Like a hunter, he sensed her before seeing her. She waited, not wanting to do this like she’d been trained. There were better ways to deal with obstacles and hurting an old man seemed cruel. At least she thought so before he turned to her and fired.
    Chapter Four
    Detective Ryan Farmer parked at the corner, just out of sight of Deirdre’s house. She wasn’t home. He was nearly certain of it, but he hadn’t found her at the gym or her downtown office. She could stay away from the office for days, but she always returned home. This was her sanctuary, her little corner where she pretended to be normal. She enjoyed hiding in a subdivision like the successful family types.
    His phone call this morning must’ve sent her scrambling. He smiled to himself, trying to imagine the tough demeanor fading. It was worth sacrificing his sleep in order to handle this situation with Deirdre. She had far too much power in this town. Even his superiors looked up to her because of her thoroughness and noted that she never sent a guy to the hospital unless he tried to shoot her. Despite hostile circumstances, the perpetrators’ injuries were never life threatening. Little Miss Perfect never screwed up, never brought down the wrong guy.
    It took some digging and long hours on the road, but he found the little princess’s secret. Her clients would go scrambling if they knew that she was a product of a cult bent on political upheaval. If Stone House hadn’t burned, who knows how messy things could’ve gotten.
    Ryan took a deep breath thinking about the liberals she provided protection for whenever their world grew difficult. Their suspicious nature would make them stop using her once they knew her past. A few might start trusting the cops with their secrets instead of some pay-by-the- hour bouncer service.
    He glanced down the road, wondering how much longer she would be. He’d been put on administrative leave since the Shope shooting, so he had time. That was a cluster fuck. He had no idea how that man escaped, but one minute sitting behind a stalled car, and Shope was out on the streets. Ryan tried to implicate Deirdre but that wouldn’t carry far. Those damn videos always saved her ass.
    Truth be known, he never liked Deirdre. She was too masculine for his tastes. He never saw her wearing dresses, only pants, tight pants that nicely displayed the curve of her ass. Deirdre needed a man on that ass, burying her face in a pillow while he taught her what it was like to be a woman.
    His cock gave a half salute at the image. Deirdre wouldn’t be so bad if she acted more like a woman. From the things he discovered, he understood why Deirdre was so combative. Her upbringing made her that way. It also made her too dangerous for his quiet little town.
    Fear crept up from the pit of his stomach when he thought about her training. Something about Deirdre had always frightened him. It was in her eyes, a primal power or hatred that made him afraid. Ryan hid it well, goading her, standing close to see if he could shake her up. Nothing had. He