Jan Hambright - Keeping Watch

Disappointment piqued her nerve endings and slammed into her brain with a force that shook her resolve. What had she expected? That her secret talent would be revered? That Royce would accept her revelation and welcome it?

“Please.” She reached out for him, laying her hand on his forearm.

Heat arced into her palm and zipped up her arm. Transfixed by the sensation, she stared up at him.

His eyes narrowed for an instant, confirming her belief that he’d felt it, too, she was sure of it, but he nonchalantly pulled back with conviction he didn’t feel.

“Someone circled Missy Stuart with a ring of salt. The claim is it has voodoo connotations. If I find out you’re involved…”

Fire burned inside Royce as he stared into her luminous green eyes. What the hell was happening to him? He wanted to kiss her, wanted to feel her body tangled up with his, for no other reason than an insatiable desire to touch her.

“There’s enough circumstantial evidence to haul you in, but you’d make bail before morning.”

Her chin came up, her eyes trained on him, and he found a quality of determination in their green depths.

“I’ll come willingly, but it isn’t going to change anything. More of them are going to die, Royce. More of the horrific depictions in my drawings are going to happen. It’s not if. It’s when.”

Frustrated, he turned around and headed for the front door, stopping only at the sound of her bare feet tromping along the hardwood right behind him.

“Don’t forget your evidence.” Her tone was mildly condescending.

He paused and turned toward her, painfully aware of how vulnerable she looked standing in front of him. Her long dark hair tousled around her face. Her eyes bright and wide with anger. Hell, he couldn’t blame her for feeling indignant. He would, too, under these circumstances. No one liked to be accused of a crime, much less convicted without a trial.

Backtracking, he pulled a business card out of his pocket and laid it on the table in the entryway. “Officer Tansy is posted in a squad car out front. He’s one of the officers being assigned to protect you from 10:00 p.m. to 6:00 a.m.”

He reached out and took the offending paper from her hand. “Feel free to call me on my personal cell if you need anything.”

Turning, he reached for the knob, opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, pulling it closed behind him. But the soft click of the latch did little to separate him from her. He could still feel her ire as he headed down the sidewalk, motioned to Tansy, crossed the street and climbed into his car.

Adelaide Charboneau was safe for now. But he still hadn’t located Clay Franklin for questioning. Using that detail alone, he’d been able to secure her nighttime protection, but there were still twenty-four hours in a day.

A measure of foreboding circulated in his veins like slow-acting poison. He shook it off, fired the engine and drove away.

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