A Necessary Risk. Kathleen Long

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A Necessary Risk - Kathleen  Long

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since the day she’d moved in. It didn’t help that her favorite pastime was devouring one romantic suspense novel after the other late at night.

      Her imagination was no doubt working overtime.

      When movement sounded from behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see an attacker closing fast.

      Instead she saw nothing. No one.

      “Get a grip, Parker.”

      She quickened her pace nonetheless, practically breaking into a jog as she approached the last intersection before her building. She came to a quick stop, looked both ways and moaned inwardly as a battered old Cadillac approached at a snail’s pace.

      The widow Murphy. The bane of the neighborhood pedestrian. The woman should have lost her license years ago, yet still she drove. The problem was you never knew if she was going to be driving fast or slow…or both.

      As if on cue, the car sped up, zipping past Jess in a blur.

      Thank goodness she hadn’t made a move to cross the street.

      She’d been so focused on Murphy’s car, Jess hadn’t sensed the presence behind her, but she sensed it now.

      A footfall sounded. Several paces back, if she wasn’t mistaken.

      Jess’s pulse began to race, and she squeezed her eyes shut momentarily, trying to calm herself, trying to think rationally.

      She was merely on edge from sneaking around the lab and the files. Not her usual MO.

      Logically speaking, it would make sense for another pedestrian to be on the street. After all, the October weather hadn’t yet turned terribly cold and the evening promised to be clear and beautiful.

      Another footstep sounded, and Jess turned to offer a greeting, deciding to face her ridiculous fear head-on.

      Her breath caught at the sight behind her. The sidewalk stood empty. Yet she’d heard the footfalls. That she hadn’t imagined. No way.

      Something moved beyond the stand of small maples the town had planted during its beautification project. A shadow. A shape.

      A man?

      Jess wasn’t about to wait to find out. She pivoted to face the street, breathing a sigh of relief when she spotted no oncoming traffic in either direction.

      She sprinted across, heading straight for her condominium complex, not daring to steal another glance over her shoulder. Not wanting to risk the slightest slowing of her pace.

      As she reached the steps to her building, the sound of someone running behind her was unmistakable. She’d be a fool to punch in her security code and risk whoever followed gaining entrance to her otherwise secure condo. She’d rather face her pursuer head-on, screaming for help in the open.

      Hers was a close neighborhood, and she had no doubt help would be with her in no time flat, if needed.

      The footfalls slowed as they neared, and Jess turned, doing her best to mentally prepare for whatever—and whoever—she might find behind her.

      A middle-aged man stood close yet kept a respectable distance. His complexion was scarred, as if he’d battled severe acne in his youth. His dark hair had begun to recede, and he’d slicked it back, creating a stereotypical New Jersey tough-guy appearance. His manner of dress, however, belied his intimidating looks.

      He wore an impeccable suit, crisp white shirt and tightly knotted tie. His clothes showed not a hint of wear or wrinkling, as if he’d just dressed or emerged from a corporate limo.

      He reeked of money and confidence, and Jess didn’t recognize him from the neighborhood.

      “Can I help you?” she asked, hoping the fear that had her trembling inside wouldn’t infiltrate her voice.

      The man tipped his head to one side, a slow smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

      Jess narrowed her gaze, suspicion filtering through her. “I’m fine. You’re not from around here, are you? Do you need directions?”

      He pursed his lips. “You were running. What made you do that?”

      You, she thought.

      The man’s tone had turned icy, and Jess swallowed reflexively, doing her best to ignore the fingers of dread that wrapped themselves around her neck and squeezed.

      The man took a step toward where she stood, but Jess held her ground, steeling herself.

      “I was wondering if you had reason to be afraid of something.” His voice dropped low now, menacing, the implied threat unmistakable.

      She shook her head. “Why would I be afraid?”

      He leaned near and Jess seriously considered screaming. She tensed, ready to strike out should he make a move.

      “Sometimes people stumble into situations where they don’t belong,” the man continued. “You’d be surprised what can happen to a person who loses her way, to those she loves, especially when they can’t defend themselves.”

      Jess fought the urge to take a swing at him but stood frozen to the spot. She hated how much fear his words had shot into her system. Just who was he threatening? Her? Her family? Her disabled father?

      The man tipped his chin, then pivoted away from her. “Take care now. And don’t forget to lock your doors. You wouldn’t want to leave yourself vulnerable.”

      Jess did nothing. Said nothing. She merely stood and watched him walk away as if her feet had been anchored in concrete.

      Either the man was merely a Good Samaritan with a penchant for gloom and doom or he’d followed her with the express intent to intimidate.

      She’d put her money on the latter.

      Someone had sent the man with the message for her. She’d stumbled onto something someone else didn’t want her to stumble upon. But what?

      Detective Thomas’s allegations were the only development out of the ordinary in her otherwise predictable life. Surely Dr. Van Cleef hadn’t sent the well-dressed man out to scare her. And other than those two, the only person she’d contacted was Scott, yet she’d mentioned no specifics in her voice mail, purposely being discreet.

      Could the conversation she’d just had have been a random warning from a well-meaning stranger?

      When she punched in her security code and entered the building, she had her answer. The door to her condo sat wide-open, as if she’d gone off to work and never pulled it shut behind her.

      She stood to the side of the threshold and listened but heard nothing. Glancing inside, it was evident nothing obvious had been touched or moved. The condo was designed as an open loft, and she was able to scan the full interior from the door.

      Her living area, kitchen and sleeping area were all as she’d left them with no intruder in sight.

      No matter. Jess knew she’d locked the

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