Page 58 of Hunt Me

No, I would quietly let it go. There was no possibility I’d been seen and recognized. I’d worn dark clothing, not on purpose but by sheer luck. My hair had been pulled into a ponytail. I’d wiped the knife clean.

“Ugh.” I’d touched the murder weapon, also not by choice at first, but forensics were much more sophisticated than they were even ten years before. If even a partial print remained on the knife, how could I explain that without the circus forming?

Even though a portion of the pizza had been left on the scene, the scrap of information wouldn’t be released to anyone. Not if they were good at their jobs. That left the tip.

Or a nosy neighbor.

Thank God, I’d taken the box with me. It would take time to go through his phone records to find out who he called. However, the connection would eventually be made. I’d need to warn Callie. What was I supposed to say to my sister?

Hey, sis, I just fell across a man who was murdered.

She’d need protection.

I’d need protection.

“No,” I groaned. The ugly situation couldn’t get any worse.

“I’m uncertain at this point, but I will say that I will work tirelessly with the police and their upstanding officers to hunt the person or persons responsible. And they will pay a penance for what they’ve done. One way or another.”

My skin tingled, the voice of the man speaking deep and commanding, sensual and melodic in a way that captured my attention.

The tone was also completely recognizable.

Very slowly I lifted my head, blinking three times before the man standing behind the husky voice came into focus.

My amazing lover.

The one who’d captured my attention and who’d blindfolded me, insisting I trust him.

The man who’d kissed me like no other had in my life, the intimate encounter leaving me broken into a thousand pieces.

A man so exquisitely handsome my heart ached from the memory of him.

Mikhail.

A man I still hungered for.

Karma hated my guts.

The banner running underneath his stunning form as he talked with the reporter left nothing to the imagination.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I need to talk with the detective in charge.”

Mikhail Dmitriyev, CEO of Dmitriyev Enterprises.

His statement was tranquil and precise, but I could feel a distinct electric hum even through the thin screen. He oozed power and dominance.

He’d issued a warning to the person responsible for killing his employee.

Wrong. He’d issued a threat.

His expression was calmer than a starless night, yet his eyes were so vividly blue in the harsh light of the camera they were hypnotizing. As if he was looking directly into mine.

Suddenly, I could breathe much easier than before. I was also completely calm. Imploding from emotions wouldn’t change anything.

I moved slowly as I stood, taking careful steps to where I’d dropped my purse on the floor. Every action was completely thought out and without second guessing, I pulled the phone into my fingers. I had two calls to make. That would buy some time.

As expected, my first call went directly to voicemail. I couldn’t terrify her. No, I had to think of a good excuse. “Callie, it’s me. You owe me a favor, my baby sister. Whatever you do, don’t come home tonight. Stay with Jason. Let’s just say I might be repeating the sinful crime from a couple nights ago. I’d prefer being alone.” I managed to giggle like some schoolgirl for effect.