Debra Webb - Urban Sensation

“Remember what I said, Rowen,” he reminded softly. “You must be very careful.”

He walked out. Rowen watched him stride down the cobble-stoned alleyway, the sun glinting off his shiny black hair. He looked exactly like the kind of man who might have haunted these narrow streets two or three hundred years ago. The only things missing in the picture he made were the darkness and the swirling fog around his long legs. The very two items that had likely cloaked his movements as he’d entered her home via illegal means before dawn.

She shuddered and closed the door.

As if on cue, her body started to shake with the receding adrenaline.

Evan Hunter was alive.

She took two or three long, deep breaths to slow her racing heart, to calm her frazzled nerves. Why had he come back?

His warning echoed inside her. How could he know so much about her case unless he was still involved with the FBI on some level? He couldn’t. Maybe his team was investigating the murders.

But the Feds had claimed he was no longer in their service when she’d tried to find him three years ago.

She laughed dryly, bemused at the twinge of surprise the thought provoked. Why on earth was she surprised? Lies were often used as effective tools in law enforcement, from cover profiles to interrogation techniques. She’d used them herself on numerous occasions.

But this had been personal and she wasn’t about to forgive Evan Hunter…no matter how good his motivation for dropping off the face of the planet.

And if the Feds were involved in her case, they’d damned well better get on board and fess up.

The chief had a contact or two. Maybe he could determine if the Bureau was snooping around in any capacity. She glanced at her watch. Dammit. She was late.

She had a date at the morgue.

The click-click-click of doggy toenails announced the arrival of Princess. She looked expectantly at Rowen.

Okay, she had a date at the morgue after she took Princess for a walk.

Life was all about priorities.

She thought about Carlotta Simpson and her decision, despite the threatening weather, to walk home at such an ungodly hour, thereby saving herself the fare. Death was about priorities, as well. The difference was, you didn’t get a chance to regret your decisions.

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