My Deadly Valentine - By Valerie Hansen & Lynette Eason Page 0,3

away, because that was one attractive lady.

The last thing Rachel wanted to do was report more problems to the sheriff. Unfortunately, it looked as if she was going to have to do exactly that. When she went to hang up her jacket and check the security of her back door the next morning, she found pry marks on the frame, the lock sprung and the door sagging open on damaged hinges.

“This is getting disgusting,” she muttered, grabbing her cell phone.

A male voice answered, “Sheriff’s office. What’s your emergency?”

“This is Rachel Hollister. The back door of my store has been forced open.”

“Where are you now?”

“Standing here, looking at it. Why?”

“Don’t go inside. Whoever’s responsible may still be there.”

That had not occurred to her. “Too late. I’m already inside.”

“Well get out. Now. We’ll send a man right over. And stay on the line with me if you can. Are you on a cell or a landline?”

The command to remain connected hardly registered. She ended the call automatically as she gaped at the damaged door. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the storeroom seemed ice-cold in spite of the fact that she had worn a short-sleeve sweater to work instead of a blouse or T-shirt.

“That’s because it’s only thirty degrees outside and that broken door is open,” she assured herself, rubbing her prickling forearms.

She supposed she should just step away from there, although she had already traversed the entire length of the store, turning on lights and preparing for the day’s business, so what would be the point of running away? And from what? Boogeymen? Invisible adversaries?

“If there was a burglar in the shop, I sure didn’t see him,” she murmured.

A tremor raced up her spine and ended by needling the fine hairs on the nape of her neck. “But maybe he saw me.”

That was all the incentive she needed to get moving. Rushing out into the alley, she didn’t look behind her until she had reached the street in front of the store.

A patrol car was already pulling up to the curb. She was certain that the same good-looking officer as before was driving. He pretty much had to be unless Harlan Allgood, the sheriff, had decided to handle the call himself. She hadn’t cared for Boyd, Harlan’s previous deputy, because she’d considered him lazy and inept. This one, however, seemed far too gung ho. Judging by the way he was behaving as he got out of the car, he must be expecting to face public enemy number one!

He motioned her out of the way. His brow was knit and his eyes narrowed. He drew his gun, holding it at the ready and never taking his eyes off the storefront. Considering his formidable presence and keen concentration on the task at hand, Rachel was very glad she was one of the good guys.

Pausing at the door before pushing it open, Jace asked over his shoulder, “What did you see, exactly?”

“Just that the back door had been jimmied.” She held her arms tightly against the cold—and against the thought that some criminal was targeting the poor little card shop.

“Nobody inside?”

“Not that I saw. I came all the way through…”

His brows arched. “You did what?”

“The same thing I do every day. I unlocked the front door, turned on the lights and went to leave my purse and coat in the back room. That’s when I saw the damage and called the sheriff.”

“And you left by that back door?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that was one smart move, at least.”

“Hey, if they’d posted a sign on the door that they were busy robbing the place, I’d have stayed outside,” she snapped in reaction to his critical tone. “When you catch the folks who are doing this stuff, warn them to be more courteous in the future, will you?”

“Sorry. You’re right. I just don’t want to see anyone get hurt.”

“Neither do I. I want peace and quiet. Think you can help with that?”

“I hope so. Stay here while I go check inside. When I’m finished, I’ll come back for you and we’ll walk through it again, together, so you can see if anything has been moved or stolen.”

“Okay. Whatever you say.” She noted that he seemed relieved by her quick agreement. The worrisome part of their conversation was his implication that she might have been in the actual presence of one or more thieves while innocently opening the store.

That notion gave her the shivers even more than the cold morning temperature and damp air and she hugged herself tightly. It was as