Annslee Urban - Deadly Setup

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HAZARDOUS HOMECOMINGBack in her hometown, Paige Becker has one goal: to prove her brother didn't murder his wife. But as she begins her hunt for the real killer, a truck runs her off the road, and Paige is convinced it was no accident. Now her old flame, Seth Garrison—the detective who put her brother in jail—is in charge of the investigation into the wreck. Seth doesn't believe Paige was intentionally targeted…until someone begins stalking her, and a woman who might have information is murdered. In order to unmask the murderer, they must dig into a shadowy and painful past—a past that once drove them apart. But is the killer out for revenge against Paige's brother, or did Seth put the wrong man behind bars?

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Heart tripping, Paige strained her ear to listen.

A long second ticked by. Then she heard it again, a voice reverberating off the concrete walls and up through the stairwell. It sounded like her name.

Fear slashed through Paige. Once again, her mind flashed to the accident the night before. Would someone be so brazen as to come after her in broad daylight? In a busy shopping area?

At the thought, her pulse ratcheted higher. She didn’t plan to wait around and see. She hurtled up the stairs to the next landing but halted as another thought sprang to life. What if it wasn’t her name she’d heard but a cry for help?

Before she let fear seep back in, Paige spun around and grabbed hold of the railing. “Hello? Is everything okay?” she called out, pitching her voice to carry through the stairwell.

In the silence that followed her ear picked up a deep raspy breath. A longer pause and then thump, thump, thump. Pounding footsteps, emulating the deep thrum of her own heartbeat.

Fresh panic spiraled through her as Seth’s words raced through her head: Don’t wait until something goes wrong. If you feel uncomfortable in a situation, get out of there.

When would she learn? Yesterday, she’d wasted too much time analyzing the situation and she’d ended up in a ravine.

Lord, help me. Paige zigged and zagged up two more flights as footsteps pounded from behind her. Her shoulder bag banged into her side, spurring her on. Out of breath, she hit the fifth-floor landing and flung open the door.

Whack! The sound echoed as the metal door met resistance, followed by, “Hey! Watch it.”

A surge of surprise jumbled with relief swept over Paige at the sound of the deep, rich baritone voice. But when the man stepped around the door, her knees weakened at the sight of him. Seth Garrison.

* * *

More and more Seth wished he’d just stayed out of town. Even better, he wished Paige had stayed in Durham. They hadn’t seen each other in over ten months, and now he couldn’t stay out of her way. Literally.

“Hello, Paige,” Seth said, taking a step forward and holding his hand under his nose to keep the deluge of crimson from pouring out.

“Seth... I’m so sorry.” Paige stared at him, color rising in her cheeks. “Oh, my. You’re bleeding.” She dug a handful of Art’s Bistro napkins out of her purse, shoving them at him. “I hope you’re okay.”

He’d live. He sniffed and took the napkins, wiping his nose. Although he had to admit being on the receiving end of Paige’s concern helped dull the pain some. He smiled briefly to ease her mind. “Nothing’s broken. However, I hope throwing doors open like that isn’t part of your new routine.”

“No—no. Of course not.” Paige swallowed and shot a nervous glance at him. “I was just in hurry.”

“So I gathered.” Seth stilled, gazing at her. Something flickered in her eyes; it wasn’t just anxiety but fear, putting Seth’s nerves on edge. A protective feeling welled up inside him, liquefying his resolve to keep his distance and stay out of her business.

He started to ask her a question, then stopped as a coldness seeped through him as common sense reasserted itself.

Protecting or even consoling Paige wasn’t his responsibility. She’d just had him thrown off her case. She didn’t want his help or concern.

And he didn’t need the frustration. Let her new detective, Brett Ralston, take care of that.

Seth weighed that rationale for a split second before concern for Paige won out. No matter that the relationship between them had grown cold, he still cared about her. “So what’s going on that’s made you in such a hurry?”

Paige stared back at him, her brow knitted. “I’m probably just being paranoid, but I think someone may have been following me.”

“Following you?” Concern crawled up Seth’s spine. He wiped his hands and trashed the napkins in a bin by the wall. “Let me take a look.”

Brushing past Paige, Seth stepped into the stairwell. Automatically, he moved his arm to feel the reassuring bulge of his Glock 23 beneath his leather jacket, nestled in its shoulder holster.

Not that he expected to need it, but he’d learned long ago during his navy SEAL training the value of taking precautions.

Sunlight streamed in from the open door behind him, illuminating the typically dim space. He crossed the narrow landing in three strides as a dull pounding echoed from below, the sound of heavy-booted feet on the metal stairs.

Seth leaned over the balustrade and peered down the stairwell to the ground floor. He glimpsed a shadow moving down the steps. His heartbeat kicked up. Maybe Paige wasn’t being paranoid.

Patterns of short labored breaths echoed back to him through the center stairwell. A moment later, a dark figure loomed into view. He appeared to look around before he stepped from the stairwell onto the concrete first floor.

Seth craned his neck for a better look. Male. Sturdy build. Baseball cap. He watched as the man threw a fleeting glance back up the staircase before he turned and sprinted away, disappearing into the shadows.

Alarm slithered up Seth’s spine. He spun and exploded into a run even before he heard the ground-floor door slam. Bypassing Paige, he headed down a row of parked cars toward the east side of the fifth-floor lot.

“What’s going on?” Paige called to him.

Without stopping, he yelled back, “Check the front lot and see if anyone is getting into a vehicle or leaving. And let me know what kind of vehicle they’re driving.”

Seth skidded to an abrupt halt at the block wall at the back edge of the parking deck. Grabbing the edge firmly, he lurched forward and looked down into the lot below, anticipating a dead end. There was a plethora of outdoor parking; the guy could be anywhere. But Seth hoped this remote lot would be the top choice for someone wanting to be out of the public eye.

Seth’s heart rate surged when his hunch paid off and he spotted a man in a ball cap scurry across the parking lot to a white Ford pickup and climb inside.

Could this be the same vehicle that ran Paige off the mountain?

Extended cab. Long bed. Seth grabbed his phone to get a picture. As he adjusted his camera to zero in, the truck took off out of the lot and barreled around the corner. A fresh burst of anger burned in Seth’s gut.

Who is this guy? He gritted his teeth as that question slammed into his brain.

Turning his head, he saw Paige hurrying toward him.

“What is it?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Seth took an uneasy breath and pocketed his cell phone. “I saw someone in the stairwell. He left through the ground-floor exit. I had hoped to get a look at him.”

“Did you see him?” Paige glanced over her shoulder to the parking lot below.

“Only a glimpse,” Seth said. “Just before he took off in a white pickup.”

Her startled green gaze swung back to him. “Long bed and extended cab?”

He nodded, still trying to catch his breath.

“I knew it.” She breathed in, issuing a tremulous smile of relief. “It has to be the same creep that ran me off the road.”

Despite the concern weighing heavy in his chest, Seth smiled back. Everything was speculative, but Paige’s intuition about someone trying to hurt her was taking on more credibility. The question was, who was that someone? “I’ll make sure to update Detective Ralston on what happened today, now that he’s the detective on your case.”

Paige brightened further, offering a short nod. She didn’t seem to notice his little dig. Not that she owed him anything. Although, given the way their conversation went last night, it was probably just as well he wasn’t running her investigation. They’d butted heads more than they’d discussed her case. Hardly productive.

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