Proof of Life. Laura Scott

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Proof of Life - Laura Scott


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pulled his mind to the matter at hand. He told Shanna everything he knew, although it wasn’t anything different from what he’d told the detective. Still, working with Shanna as they reviewed the list of kids who’d attended the party made him feel as if he were part of the investigation instead of an innocent bystander.

      At ten o’clock, she yawned so wide her jaw popped, and he realized he’d selfishly kept her up long enough. “It’s late—we’d better go.”

      She nodded, signaling the waitress to bring their bill. He knew she intended to pay, but he took the bill from the waitress anyway. “My treat.”

      Shanna frowned. “You don’t have to do that.”

      “Please, I want to.” She couldn’t know how much he’d needed to talk to her tonight, to be involved at least this much in the investigation. Besides, he couldn’t get into the idea of allowing a woman to pay. Call it old-fashioned, but he didn’t care. He stood, waiting for her to precede him out of the diner.

      Outside, there were only a few other cars in the postage stamp-size parking lot. His SUV was on the far left end, but she turned toward the right, where a red Toyota Camry was parked next to a row of bushes.

      “Thanks, Quinn,” she said, formally shaking his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

      “Sure.” Her hand felt small and fragile in his and he released it reluctantly. He followed, intent on making sure she got safely into her car. She only took a few steps though, before suddenly stopping.

      She whirled around, coming back toward him. She grabbed his arm in a tight grip. “Do you see him?” she asked in a low, urgent tone. “Do you see the man standing next to my car?”

      “Man?” He peered over her shoulder, not seeing any sign of a person, male or otherwise. Had her exhausted mind played tricks on her? “Relax, it’s okay. I don’t see anyone.”

      “Are you saying I imagined him?” The sharp edge to her tone made him lift a curious brow.

      “No, I believe you. But I don’t see him now. Maybe he disappeared behind those bushes.”

      Abruptly, she let go of his arm, swinging back to stare at her car. “He’s gone. I can’t believe I didn’t get a better look at him.”

      Her tone was fierce and brave, but he noticed the slight trembling of her hands. He didn’t blame her for being scared; there was no acceptable reason for a man to loiter around a woman’s car at ten o’clock at night. Even if she had imagined the guy, he figured she was entitled after such a long day. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

      “I’m fine.” She started toward her car with a firm stride, but didn’t protest when he caught up to her.

      A small white card with her name printed on the outside was stuck beneath the wiper blade on the driver’s side. Obviously, her mystery man wasn’t her imagination after all.

      She gasped in shock and stopped short, staring at the evidence.

      “Don’t touch anything,” he ordered. “We need to call the police, see if we can get some fingerprints off this.”

      “Don’t bother.” Her tone was matter of fact.

      “What do you mean, don’t bother?” What sort of CSI expert was she? “Why not?”

      “Because I’ve gotten several others just like it, and he hasn’t left any prints yet.”

      TWO

      Quinn wasn’t happy when Shanna insisted on driving home, but he followed right behind her as they went the couple of blocks to her house. She lived in a nice, if older, suburb of Chicago, where the houses were small and the lots even smaller, yet well-groomed. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, anxious to get to the bottom of this.

      The brief glimpse of fear in Shanna’s eyes tugged at him. He’d seen the same haunted expression in the young freshman’s eyes last night, after the attack. His stomach squeezed. He didn’t like the possibility of Shanna suffering a similar experience. Thankfully, the mystery man had only left a note and hadn’t touched her.

      Some people felt that campus police officers weren’t the real deal, hiding from the true crime that stalked the city streets. He’d done his stint as a city cop for over six years. Now he preferred to proactively protect the younger, innocent college kids rather than taking criminals off the street, knowing there was always another cop eager to take his place.

      He pulled into Shanna’s driveway right behind her, and hurried out of his car to stop her from going inside. “Stay back. I want to check things out first.”

      She pushed his hand away. “I’m a trained law-enforcement officer,” she protested.

      “Yeah, but I’m armed.” And he’d noticed she wasn’t, at least not at the restaurant. She had carried a gun while she was investigating the crime scene as all CSIs were required to do. But knowing she was a trained officer didn’t matter. For some reason, this woman raised his protective instincts to full alert.

      She stared at him for a long minute and then took a step back, allowing him to take the lead. While she hovered behind him, he took the key from her fingers and ventured inside. The layout was a simple ranch design; the side door entered into the kitchen. The front door opened into the living room, and then there was a short hallway leading to the bedrooms.

      The light over the kitchen sink was burning bright so he swept his gaze over the room, listening intently. His gut told him the place was empty, but he went through each room anyway, just to make sure.

      When he finished, he headed back to the kitchen. Three notes were sitting in the center of the table. He leaned over, read them and then looked up at her askance. “Have you called the police about these threats?”

      She winced and shook her head, her arms wrapped around her torso as if she were cold. “Not yet. I was going to, though. That last one came today. I mean, yesterday.” She frowned. “Actually, I don’t exactly know what day it came, because I sometimes forget to pick up the mail.”

      “So you received a note and still drove out to meet me tonight?” His fingers curled into helpless fists at her foolishness. “Are you crazy?”

      Her shrug was nonchalant. “Working on Brady’s case helped keep my mind off my problems.”

      A stalker wasn’t just any old problem. He was tempted to snap at her, but realized Shanna was a trained law-enforcement agent, just like he was. She could take care of herself.

      So why did he want to do that for her?

      Because he was tempted to pull her into the shelter of his arms in a gesture of comfort, he forced himself to stay where he was, keeping a safe distance between them.

      “Do you have any idea who’s sending these?” he asked in a low tone. “A jilted boyfriend? Someone at work that you refused to go out with?”

      She made a strangled sound. “No. I haven’t been seeing anyone, no ex-boyfriends. No one’s been bothering me. My personal life is dull and uneventful. To be honest, I’ve already concluded the notes have to be related to one of my cases.”

      He shouldn’t have been relieved to know there wasn’t a man in her life, just as he shouldn’t have noticed how vulnerable she’d looked when she’d admitted the boring details of her past. Why was such a pretty woman leading a dull and uneventful life? Her personal life was none of his business, but he wanted to know just the same. He kept his voice firm. “You need to call the police.”

      “You’re the police,” she joked weakly.

      “Shanna.” He moved closer, lifting his hand to brush her hair away from her cheek. “You know I don’t have jurisdiction here. You need to call this in, before this guy gets too close.”

      For a moment she simply stared at him with something forlorn in her gaze, but


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