jammed it inside a mini black purse, then sashayed from her bedroom to the living area.
He moved around the side of the house, slipping behind the bushes by her front door.
Stupid woman made it easy for him. She lived alone at the end of a street. He supposed she’d chosen the pretty little neighborhood thinking it was safe, that neighbors weren’t far away.
They were far enough.
All tucked in their own houses with TVs blaring or heads buried in computers or their phones. No neighborhood watch here. In fact, his research indicated half of the homes had gone into foreclosure and were vacant.
She stepped onto the front stoop, then turned to lock the door, and he moved like lightning. She tried to scream as he grabbed her by the throat, but he used a paralyzing maneuver he’d learned in prison, and seconds later, she sagged in his arms.
He brushed her cheek with his lips as he carried her to the Honda he’d stolen after that fucking cop had nearly caught him in the truck. He opened the car door and settled Nan inside, smiling as she slumped down into the front seat.
“Soon we’ll be back at my place.” An Internet search at the library had allowed him to find an abandoned house not too far from Lenora that would work. A house just like the one he’d lived in as a child.
Back when the voices in his head had started.
He licked her neck. “Then the fun is going to begin, Nan. So much fun…”
Chapter Six
Micah jerked the man by the collar of his shirt. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing stalking Lenora Lockhart?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. They were set a little too close together, his nose was crooked, his teeth tobacco stained.
“I’m not stalking anybody, asshole. If you’re here to shake me down for some money, I don’t have any.”
“It’s Sgt. Hardin.” Micah tapped the Silver Star on his shirt. “Texas Ranger.”
“Oh, shit,” the man muttered.
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Micah growled. “Who do you owe money to?”
The man shrugged his beefy shoulders. “No one. You just looked like you wanted something. I figured it was money.”
The man was nervous about something. “Why were you running? Someone hire you to find Lenora?”
“I told you I wasn’t watching nobody,” the man snarled. “I was just out for a smoke.”
“Yeah, right. You live in that complex?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend live there?”
The man lifted his chin. “No.”
“Then what?” Micah dug into the man’s pocket, yanked out his wallet, then flipped it open to look at his ID. Billy Willard, forty-five. “Either spill it or I’m locking you up. Probably gonna find a rap sheet, won’t I?”
Willard cursed. “Look, I got into some trouble a while back, but I’ve been clean for months.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Just some petty stuff.”
Micah tightened his hold. “How petty?”
“Jesus. A bag of weed, that’s all.”
Micah studied the man’s eyes. They kept darting back toward the truck. “Is that why you were here? You buying dope?”
“Listen, man, I’m on parole. I can’t go back to jail. They’ve got lunatics and murderers and rapists in there.”
Micah relaxed slightly. “You weren’t here looking for Lenora?”
An angry glint darkened Willard’s eyes. “I don’t know who this Lenora is, but no. I came here to make a deal. Period.”
Micah released him. “Then get the hell out of here.” He had to get back to Lenora himself.
Willard jumped in the Range Rover and roared from the parking lot.
Micah glanced around again, then strode back to Lenora’s door and knocked. “It’s Micah.”
When the door swung open, relief spilled through him. She was safe for now.
He had to keep it that way.
Lenora let Micah in, her heart hammering. She’d been worried sick that Simpleton had been outside and had hurt Micah. The crazy maniac had probably made friends in prison, ones she didn’t want to meet. Hell, he was probably the leader of his own
He moved around the side of the house, slipping behind the bushes by her front door.
Stupid woman made it easy for him. She lived alone at the end of a street. He supposed she’d chosen the pretty little neighborhood thinking it was safe, that neighbors weren’t far away.
They were far enough.
All tucked in their own houses with TVs blaring or heads buried in computers or their phones. No neighborhood watch here. In fact, his research indicated half of the homes had gone into foreclosure and were vacant.
She stepped onto the front stoop, then turned to lock the door, and he moved like lightning. She tried to scream as he grabbed her by the throat, but he used a paralyzing maneuver he’d learned in prison, and seconds later, she sagged in his arms.
He brushed her cheek with his lips as he carried her to the Honda he’d stolen after that fucking cop had nearly caught him in the truck. He opened the car door and settled Nan inside, smiling as she slumped down into the front seat.
“Soon we’ll be back at my place.” An Internet search at the library had allowed him to find an abandoned house not too far from Lenora that would work. A house just like the one he’d lived in as a child.
Back when the voices in his head had started.
He licked her neck. “Then the fun is going to begin, Nan. So much fun…”
Chapter Six
Micah jerked the man by the collar of his shirt. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing stalking Lenora Lockhart?”
The man’s eyes narrowed. They were set a little too close together, his nose was crooked, his teeth tobacco stained.
“I’m not stalking anybody, asshole. If you’re here to shake me down for some money, I don’t have any.”
“It’s Sgt. Hardin.” Micah tapped the Silver Star on his shirt. “Texas Ranger.”
“Oh, shit,” the man muttered.
“Oh, shit, yeah,” Micah growled. “Who do you owe money to?”
The man shrugged his beefy shoulders. “No one. You just looked like you wanted something. I figured it was money.”
The man was nervous about something. “Why were you running? Someone hire you to find Lenora?”
“I told you I wasn’t watching nobody,” the man snarled. “I was just out for a smoke.”
“Yeah, right. You live in that complex?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend live there?”
The man lifted his chin. “No.”
“Then what?” Micah dug into the man’s pocket, yanked out his wallet, then flipped it open to look at his ID. Billy Willard, forty-five. “Either spill it or I’m locking you up. Probably gonna find a rap sheet, won’t I?”
Willard cursed. “Look, I got into some trouble a while back, but I’ve been clean for months.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Just some petty stuff.”
Micah tightened his hold. “How petty?”
“Jesus. A bag of weed, that’s all.”
Micah studied the man’s eyes. They kept darting back toward the truck. “Is that why you were here? You buying dope?”
“Listen, man, I’m on parole. I can’t go back to jail. They’ve got lunatics and murderers and rapists in there.”
Micah relaxed slightly. “You weren’t here looking for Lenora?”
An angry glint darkened Willard’s eyes. “I don’t know who this Lenora is, but no. I came here to make a deal. Period.”
Micah released him. “Then get the hell out of here.” He had to get back to Lenora himself.
Willard jumped in the Range Rover and roared from the parking lot.
Micah glanced around again, then strode back to Lenora’s door and knocked. “It’s Micah.”
When the door swung open, relief spilled through him. She was safe for now.
He had to keep it that way.
Lenora let Micah in, her heart hammering. She’d been worried sick that Simpleton had been outside and had hurt Micah. The crazy maniac had probably made friends in prison, ones she didn’t want to meet. Hell, he was probably the leader of his own
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