Kerry Connor - Strangers in the Night

In that instant, she would have given anything to be able to trust him. All of a sudden, more than ever before, she realized just how tired she was. Tired of running, tired of looking over her shoulder everywhere she went. It was an infinite road with no end in sight.

She would give anything to be able to trust someone, anyone, for the first time in so long, to turn her face into that broad chest, to ease her burden onto one of those shoulders and let someone else carry the load, if only for a short time.

She didn’t say a word. There was nothing she could say, nothing Ross would understand, that wouldn’t require explanations she couldn’t give. Instead, she turned away and escaped into the bathroom, the moment over. Reality had set in, offering the cold reminder that she couldn’t trust this man, or any other.

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This book is dedicated with gratitude to everyone who

ever told me they enjoyed something I wrote (even when

I suspected they were just being kind) for that little bit of

encouragement I needed to keep going.

Your words meant the world to me and helped me find

my own. Thank you.

A lifelong mystery reader, Kerry Connor first discovered romantic suspense by reading Harlequin Intrigue books and is thrilled to be writing for the line. Kerry lives and writes in Southern California.

Allie Freeman —A witness to murder.

Gideon Ross —The bounty hunter was tracking a criminal when he found a woman running for her life.

Kathleen Mulroney —Her murder set everything in motion.

Price Chastain —The real estate mogul had gotten away with plenty of crimes—and intended to get away with this one.

Roy Taylor —Ross’s nemesis was hunting prey of his own.

Ken Newcomb —Ross’s NYPD contact.

Dominick Brancato —A man with a mission of his own.

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

The taxi rolled to a stop next to the Chastain building just after nine o’clock.

For a moment Allie sat there, listening to the raindrops patter against the roof of the cab, staring out through the liquid-smeared window into the darkness. She knew there was a light burning directly above the door she planned to use to enter the building. The veil of rain obscured it, making the alley between the Manhattan high-rise and its neighbor appear utterly black.

Naturally she’d forgotten to bring an umbrella. It had been that kind of day.

The driver twisted in his seat and shot her a skeptical glance. “You sure you don’t want me to take you around the front?”

The only thing Allie was sure about was that this was the last place she wanted to be. She was exhausted. Her back was killing her; her feet ached. All she wanted was to sink back against the cushioned seat and have him take her home.

But she’d made the mistake of doing her brother a favor and getting him tickets for tomorrow’s Mets game, then compounded the error by leaving them on her desk. That was what she got for being in such a hurry to leave work on a Friday in the first place. Of course, with her luck it had to be an early-afternoon game. For her brother and his buddies to get to the ballpark in time, she either had to come back to work tonight or make the trip early in the morning. After the week she’d had, there was no way she was getting out of bed before noon tomorrow.

She reached into her purse for the fare. “This is fine.”

“You want me to wait?”

“No.” She’d be lucky to afford the fare back to Queens without paying him to sit there while she ran inside. She’d have to try to hail another taxi when she got out.

Shoving the money into the driver’s open palm and ignoring the look that said he clearly thought she had a few screws loose, Allie stepped out of the cab. A few seconds later it pulled away.

She moved quickly down the alley, muttering under her breath about baseball and younger brothers. She only hoped that by using the back service entrance and bypassing security in the front, she could get in and out faster. One of the night guards who often manned the front desk was a creep. She had no idea if he was working tonight, but wasn’t about to risk it.

The rain continued to fall, and she was nearly soaked by the time she spotted the dim light above the back entrance up ahead. A sigh of relief whooshed from between her teeth. More than ready to get inside, she reached into her pocket for the security code she wasn’t supposed to have. It was good to have friends in high places, in this case Nadine in Payroll. Nadine wasn’t supposed to have it, either, but Allie wasn’t about to rat her out.

Her hand had just closed around the slip of paper when she heard voices.

The sound was so unexpected she missed a step and nearly stumbled. She reached out and steadied herself against the wall, and hesitated, uncertain. She couldn’t make out who was speaking, but they were definitely coming from in front of her—right where she was headed.

Curious in spite of herself, Allie slowly moved closer. She could make the voices out now, hushed and angry. She realized with a start that one belonged to Price Chastain himself. Real-estate mogul. Head of the Chastain Corporation. The man whose name was on her paycheck, even though she was more likely to see him in the newspaper than in the office. Surprise drew her up short again. He was just about the last person she’d expect to be hanging out in an alley. The other voice belonged to a woman. Allie didn’t recognize it. Whoever she was, though, she was holding up her end of the argument. Chastain’s temper was legendary, but the woman was giving it right back.

Moving on tiptoe, Allie peered around the corner to the recessed back entrance.

They were standing directly in front of the door she’d intended to use, clearly illuminated in a puddle of light. Mr. Chastain was right in the woman’s face. She stood in profile, allowing Allie to identify her. Her name was Kathleen…something. Allie wasn’t sure what department she worked in. She only knew her well enough to recognize her face. The woman was shaking, her hands fisted at her sides, her face dark with rage. She didn’t back down from whatever Chastain was saying.

They weren’t alone, either. Two other men stood slightly behind the woman on either side. Something about their stance said that despite their location, they weren’t there to back her up.

An uneasy feeling slid down Allie’s spine. She didn’t know what was going on and she didn’t want to. The last thing she needed was to get mixed up in something that was none of her business. She’d have to suck it up and go in the front entrance. At the moment all she wanted was to get out of there. That sole purpose fueling her movements, she began to inch backward in the direction she’d come from.