Someone To Watch Over Me Read Free Page A

inside, she turned and
faced the officer.
    “Look, the break up with my boyfriend was
mutual, and we haven’t had any problems at the store.”
    “What’s the name of your boyfriend?”
    “Ex-boyfriend,” Morgan corrected.
    She glared at the officer and then realized
he evaluated not only her answers but her physical response. He
doesn’t believe me , she thought as she tamped down the urge to
scream, hey I’m the victim here .
    She sighed. “His name is Brad Marshall. He’s
a partner at Marshall, Lyons and Smith in downtown Phoenix.”
    The officer hesitated before writing the name
down on his pad, and she quickly moved her hand up to her lips to
hide her smirk. The policeman recognized the firm’s name. They
specialized in criminal defense and last year they were at the
center of a media firestorm as they represented a man charged as a
serial killer. As a partner in the firm, there was no way her
former boyfriend would drive to Scottsdale on a Tuesday morning to
vandalize her car.
    The officer fidgeted with the pen. “When was
the last time the two of you communicated?”
    Morgan crossed her arms. “I don’t know, maybe
two or three weeks ago.”
    The officer scribbled on his notepad again.
“What about your mystery caller? Could you have met him at an event
or a club?”
    “No,” Morgan replied. “I don’t do the club
scene anymore.”
    She crossed her arms and waited for the next
question. The officer’s assumption was a popular one. As part of a
family that owned a successful jewelry store and who actively
worked on charity projects, people thought she led a life of
leisure, juggling manicures and lunches. The truth was far less
glamorous. She studied at the Gemological Institute of America and
when her father had a heart attack several months back she shelved
her jewelry design work to take on day-to-day store management.
    The officer slowly closed the notepad. “Can
you give us the phone number you wrote down? We’ll investigate and
get back in touch with you.”
    “Of course,” Morgan strode into her office,
retrieved the crumbled sheet of paper from her trash can and
unfurled it. She handed it to the officer, “Here.”
    The officer looked briefly at the number
before placing it in the notepad. “We’ll check for a match on the
fingerprints left on your car. But don’t get your hopes up. In the
meantime, you need to be more careful and above all, make sure you
lock your car.”
    Morgan nodded and hoped the policeman didn’t
see her cringe. Idiot! You forgot to lock your car.
    She forced a smile. “Thank you Officer
Romano, I’ll be more careful.”
    Morgan trailed behind him as he exited out of
the store’s back door. The other policeman had finished dusting for
fingerprints and had packed up. Within minutes, they’d left.
    Morgan stood in the doorway and surveyed her
vehicle. She was stranded. Imagine the stares she’d get with the
word “bitch” plastered on the driver’s side. “That would be great
publicity for the fundraiser.”
    She turned around and let the back door close
and lock behind her as she headed to her office. With the dinner
and auction in three days, the first order of business was a rental
car, and a tow truck to take her vehicle to the dealership. After
making those arrangements, Morgan left her office and went out to
the front of the store. She nodded at Mary who stood behind the
counter. “How’s it been?”
    “Busy. We’ve had quite a bit of pre-charity
auction window shopping.”
    Morgan grinned. “I’m glad to hear that.”
    Mary crooked a knowing smile. “You shouldn’t
worry. The auction will be a big success.”
    “Tell my father,” Morgan quipped. “He’s
convinced that no one can do it as well as he can.”
    Sarah padded in from the back rooms and
rubbed her back. “Who are you talking about?”
    Morgan smiled. “My father.”
    “He’s a force of nature,” Sarah replied. “Can
I ask you a question?”
    “Sure,” Morgan