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Chapter Fifteen

Charli lay in the all-white, comfy, king-sized bed that night reviewing the day and the man who normally slept here. No matter how many times she pushed Blake Sebastian from her thoughts, her memory betrayed her, paying no attention to her aversion.

Sure, all right, so the man looked good in a uniform, most did. And he’d set them up in his beautiful house. He’d even agreed to give them their space and move into a hotel. Maybe the thoughtful gesture demanded some appreciation.

She didn’t have to like the guy to take note of his kindness.

Grumpier now, she replayed the scene and felt better – she hadn’t given him a lot of choices, had she? Therefore, he hadn’t really been kind as much as he was in a tight spot and conceded.

Ha!

Truth was, she’d rather forced the issue – so he was still a hotshot hustler.

Should she feel like a shit for not being grateful enough to allow him to stay with them for added protection?

Not likely.

Being in such close proximity with that huge ego would have her climbing the walls and going for her gun. Better to keep him at a distance.

Plus, she had no doubt that she could keep them safe. No one knew where they were except for two people, Prowler and Crawly, and they would say nothing.

Their flight to Fort Lauderdale had been on a private plane the police used for these occasions. Rather than taking any chances of being seen at the Seattle airport, they’d driven to Vegas and caught the plane from there, hoping to mess with Dylan’s ability to trace them. There would be no trail through the Seattle airport, other than from Melissa Dale, the agent who’d taken her original flight.

Flinging out her arms, and scissoring her legs against the smooth, fresh linen, Charli realized she felt safe. And it had been some time since she’d had the luxury.

Tomorrow, they had plans to work with Kayla on trying to find photos of Dylan in the databanks, in case he had earlier arrests. Barring that, the sketch artist would be arriving later to help her start reconstructing his face from memory, a memory that was fast fading according to Kayla.

For Charli, being that it was a weekday, she’d start Kayla’s enrollment into the local school, get things in place for her to start the day after.

Then Charli would be briefed on producing the blog about editing they’d wanted her to use. It seems they had ways of making things online look as though they had been worked on for years; they just needed her presence there now.

Book editor!

Who the hell came up with that occupation? Charli, the woman who could barely put together a grocery list, now had to scribble online as if she had a successful career of editing a professional author’s work.

Bah!

A grin took over, her better nature rose, and the humor of the joke kicked in. She shrugged and wished she could share this one with her Poppa John. He’d love the contradiction.

He’d often teased her that there was more to life than catching the bad guys. Maybe she should put as much energy into catching herself a good guy instead. Yeah, right! Like she needed more headaches!

She turned over, mashed her pillow and tried to make her muscles relax. Guess she shouldn’t complain. She’d get her vacation, and if she didn’t come up with material for the blog, they’d offered a backup professional who would write it for her.

Life couldn’t be better, considering the circumstances. She began to doze off. Ooh, it felt so good to be safe.

Suddenly, a bright light flashed from the patio around the pool and seeped through the blinds.

What the hell?Someone had set off the outdoor overhead motion lights.


Tags: Mimi Barbour Thriller