One Dead, Two to Go [electronic resource] :

"Come on in," I said, standing aside to let the two of them through the door. I shut it behind them, taking a deep breath before I turned around to face them. Chance began to pace, his nervous energy filling the room. From the way he averted his gaze from the two of us, I could tell his mind was now focused solely on whatever brought him to my door. I respected that about him. His attention would be directed at you for a moment--intense, all consuming--then he'd turn outward again, as his work took precedence. Chance was taller than Kate by at least six inches. I could look him in the eye if I were wearing tall shoes, so he stood just over six feet. His hair was brown, but if we were outside, sunlight would glint off red highlights. His eyes were the color of dark chocolate--that satiny look it took on when you melted it on the stove to make some delicious, fattening dessert you knew you shouldn't eat but couldn't help yourself from making. "What can I do for you?" I asked, curious about why a Seattle detective--and my old flame--had appeared on my doorstep up here in Bellingham. "We've got some questions about Deirdre Fox," Kate said. That certainly threw me for a loop. I don't know what I thought they might question me about, but Deirdre Fox wasn't even in the top ten. "Okay," I said, wanting to see where their questions would lead. "Were you following her or working for her?" Chance asked, confusing me even further. "Neither," I said, which was technically true. "Care to explain this?" Kate handed me a photo that looked like a still picture taken from a video surveillance camera. It wasn't very high quality, but it was good enough to identify me in my Subaru taking pictures with my telephoto lens. I could tell from the background it was from my stakeout at Hallings' dealership. "Why would you think I was tailing Deirdre?" Maybe the woman had filed a report she was being stalked and my name had come up as the stalker. Maybe I wasn't as stealthy as I thought. "Because she turned up dead this morning," Chance said, carefully gauging my reaction. Shock kept me quiet and he continued, "In recreating her final day, we scanned the videotapes from her place of business, looking for anything unusual. Then you showed up." Chance tilted his head in that way he had, eyes narrowed, reading your every move, like a cat getting ready to pounce. "Dead?" I repeated, trying to absorb the fact that someone I saw yesterday in her lingerie was no longer breathing. Excerpted from One Dead, Two to Go by Elena Hartwell All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.