Still Waters Read Free

been called in and so thoroughly questioned had there been no evidence. Friends, colleagues and people acquainted with the victim were questioned in their homes or workplaces. Only the ones about to be named a person of interest—or, worse, a suspect—were hauled to the station and interviewed. The police had wanted her off balance—which was not a good thing.
    How the hell was this possible?
    She needed a couple of cocktails and a good night’s sleep. Maybe she’d wake up in the morning and discover this had all been just one big old bad nightmare.
    Finding Sean Douglas kicked back on the sofa in her living room reminded her that the situation was all too real.
    “I put on a pot of coffee.” He leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “I figured some caffeine would be useful the next few hours.”
    She would have preferred a caramel latte, but she’d been too emotional to think of dropping by her favorite coffee shop after leaving the police department. Her parents were beside themselves. They were in a remote part of Africa on a medical aid mission and couldn’t get back for days. She and Barbara had insisted they stay and do the important work they’d gone there to do. This entire business was nothing more than a mistake. Surely it would be cleared up in a day or two.
    Belatedly she remembered to say, “Thank you.” Her attorney, Frank Teller, was a coffee drinker. Vaguely she wondered how Douglas had known this or if he was a coffee guy, too.
    “I can call in some lunch for delivery. I’m guessing you didn’t take time for breakfast this morning.”
    She appreciated the offer but said, “I had a protein smoothie. I’m fine.”
    He dismissed her response with a wave of his hand. “How about a pizza or a burger? Your choice.”
    She couldn’t possibly eat. “I’m not hungry. Feel free to raid my kitchen or order something for yourself.”
    His mouth eased into a lopsided grin. “Already done that. You’re fresh out of real food.”
    A frown furrowed her brow. He’d prowled through her kitchen? What kind of bodyguard checked the fridge?
    “Why don’t you tell me about yourself,” he suggested with a pat of the sofa cushion next to him.
    Amber felt sure that inviting pat worked well for him under normal circumstances, but those blue eyes and that hopeful smile did little more than annoy her at the moment. “Weren’t you briefed on my case?”
    The need for personal security was entirely new to her, but instinct told her a man assigned to protect her would certainly have been briefed about the situation. Small talk was the furthest thing from her mind. He needed to find a way to entertain himself if he was bored. She had no desire to chat.
    “I was.” He clasped his hands between his spread thighs.
    “What else do you need to know?” She gave herself a mental pat on the back for not sounding as snippy as she felt.
    “Until this situation is resolved,” he began, tracking her movements with those blue eyes as she settled in a chair a few feet away, “we’ll be spending a lot of time together. It’s helpful to know a little more than the facts of the case. What time do you like to get up in the mornings? What’s your usual bedtime? Do you watch television or read or just relax in the evenings? Should I expect company? Is there a boyfriend to accommodate?” He shrugged. “Things like that are good to know.”
    For the love of Mike. Amber shook off the frustration. His request had merit. No need to be unreasonable. “I’m up at six unless I’m called to a scene earlier or I host the morning news the way I did this morning. I go to bed right after the ten o’clock news assuming I haven’t been called out to a scene. I usually leave the television turned on all night.” She glanced at the dark screen hanging on the wall above her fireplace. She imagined that every channel was running stories about her and the murder. “I might be taking a break from that habit for a few