Criminal Promises Read Free

him, sexually and emotionally, when he’d shattered
her world. Her allure had grown with time, judging by his earlier
reaction.
    “What good does it do to
put murderers behind bars if morons let them go?” BD ground his
teeth. They had to redo a job they’d already done because of
incompetents.
    Punch. He’d prefer himself or Craig being the targets. They were
trained.
    A target on Maggie… He may as well have been
gut punched by a three-hundred-pound thug on a high. He didn’t
stand a chance of blocking the force of such a hit any more than he
could remain unaffected by the exotic looking widow with her dark
hair and compelling gaze.
    Adalia was crafty and planned everything ten
moves in advance, which meant BD was going to have to get close to
Maggie. She needed protection and sitting in his car each night
wouldn’t be effective.
    “Adalia mentioned a
professor in the note on Michelle Dane.” Thankfully they’d
identified the woman in the park. “Maggie’s husband was a
professor, but what’s the logic behind targeting her?”
    “Vindication?” Craig
ventured. “Maggie was at the trial for most of the closing
statements. Women can latch on and turn small grudges into vengeful
ones.”
    “No.” BD slammed his fist
into the polycanvas bag. “Family members of her other victims were
there too. They haven’t been identified as targets.”
    What did Mike Sullivan have to do with
Adalia? What hat she wanted to keep him from talking about? She
wasn’t crazy. She had reasons for every action—even if BD couldn’t
pinpoint them.
    Craig braced the bag and
studied him. “She got to you again.”
    “Maggie?” Punch. “No.” Yes. Seeing her threw
him back in time. He recalled every emotion crossing her face when
he told her he was responsible for her husband’s death. That had
been the second time he’d failed to react fast enough. Nothing
would distract him this time.
    “BD—”
    Punch. Ignoring the suspicion in Craig’s tone, BD jerked his head.
He’d have to put more into his punches if he wanted to move the
bag. Moving Craig could be like moving a mountain.
    “She dressed more primly
today, but I still see her in Pepto-Bismol pink cleaning gloves
with a rip in her jeans and her chin jutted out in
defiance.”
    Her house had been cluttered with kid stuff
last time he’d been there and her hair had been in a messy
ponytail. Aside from photographs in decorative frames of a relaxed
Maggie and the mess from the raccoon, she now portrayed an
obsessively controlled person. Nothing in her life was allowed to
slip from its approved slot. She hadn’t even been able to look at
the magazines on the table without straightening them.
    Punch. Facing her again ripped open old wounds and awakened the
memory of her body pressed against his. His heart trembled with the
echoing memory of her pain.
    “She’s a job.” PUNCH.
    Craig grunted and stepped back with his right
foot.
    Punch. Punch.
    “Right.” A job and nothing
more. So why had he avoided women since meeting her?
    Yeah, his thoughts about the widow were
inappropriate. The temporary—and intense—attraction he’d felt while
offering comfort to a grieving woman made him the lowest kind of
sleaze. Damn if he hadn’t felt a stronger attraction today.
    Her pleated slacks and silk tank top
accentuated her curves. Elegance radiated from her even as she
chased a raccoon with a broom, and the instinctive attempt to take
him down when he’d startled her… Her spirit was arousing.
    “That case was tough for
you.”
    BD pictured Adalia’s face
and put the full weight of his body into the next swing. Punch. Punch.
    He knocked Craig back two steps. Bouncing on
his feet, BD rolled his shoulders. That felt good.
    “I did what I needed to do
to stop a murderer.” And a man lost his
life, a kid his dad.
    Craig stepped over to the open mat in the
middle of the floor and held his hands out to his side in
invitation. BD pulled the Velcro on his gloves with his