Deceptions. Cynthia Eden

will be a mistake.

      But Elizabeth had a way of pulling men to her. Sure, she looked different now. She acted different. And being a librarian? An interesting change for her.

      Mac opened his car door for Elizabeth. Then his gaze swept the street.

      He turned away before Mac could lock that gaze on him, and he hurried down the street. Now wasn’t the time for an attack. It had been easy enough to take out Yeldon. The fool hadn’t realized the extent of the danger he courted. And when Yeldon had told him about Elizabeth...

      I should have killed her years before. Unfinished business is such a damn pain.

      He’d thought Elizabeth didn’t know anything that would incriminate him, but now Yeldon had him doubting that truth. He sure couldn’t risk any exposure. Too much was at stake. Far, far too much.

      Mac’s car drove past him.

      Elizabeth had talked to a female detective earlier. He’d watched her leave, too. He’d have to find out just what she’d learned...before she had time to launch a full investigation that might lead back to him. He’d see if cash would work with her. Often, secrecy and safety were really all about just giving the right amount of money to the right person.

      Of course, if the blonde was one of those annoying cops that couldn’t be bought, then he’d just deal with her in another manner.

      So many loose ends... He would be eliminating them all. It was a good thing he was so talented with fixing problems.

       Chapter Three

      Elizabeth was late for work. Not a little late, but very, very late. She had a 1:00 p.m. shift, but it was close to two when Elizabeth dashed out her front door.

      She’d taken five stumbling steps on her sidewalk when she remembered... I don’t have a car! She’d left it in Austin and—

      Her frantic gaze locked on the sturdy frame of her car, parked at the end of her driveway. Relief rushed through her. Mac must have brought it back for her. He’d dropped her off, she’d crashed and had terrible nightmares and now—

      Now a man was walking toward her. He’d just exited the SUV parked near Ms. Lee’s mailbox. He was tall, with broad shoulders and dark hair. His sunglasses shielded his gaze, but the expression on his face sure looked intent and determined.

      Elizabeth staggered and wobbled in her heels. “Stay back!”

      “I’m Sullivan.”

      Sullivan? That name was oddly familiar, and he looked familiar, too.

      “Mac’s brother,” he told her as he took off the glasses. Sure enough, he had the distinct McGuire green gaze. “And I’m your protection for the day.”

      Her protection? “I thought Mac was handling the case.”

      “With the McGuires, you don’t just get one of us, you get us all.”

      That was...reassuring?

      His hand lifted, and he dangled some keys from his fingertips. “I figured you might need these, considering the way you were racing toward the car.”

      “Did you bring it over?”

      “Mac did.”

      She took the keys. “Thank you. I—I have to get to work. I called my boss and told her I was running late. I’m never late.” It seemed important to tell him that. Who knew what he’d already heard about her?

      His head inclined. “I’ll be tailing you.”

      He was— “Are you really going to be following me? All day?”

      “Just until Mac gets back.”

      Her fingers curled around the keys. “And where is Mac, exactly?”

      “At the morgue.”

      She backed up a step.

      “He’s learning more about the dead reporter and seeing if he can discover what evidence the cops have so far.”

      No, it wasn’t all a bad dream. A killer is out there, and he may be watching me. Her gaze darted down the street. Everything looked normal.

      “Just how well do you know my brother?” Sullivan asked her as he studied her.

      “Not well. I’m his librarian.”

      Sullivan’s dark brows shot up, and his lips curved. “Right.”

      “I am.” She straightened her shoulders. “And like I told you, I’m late. So I really have to hurry.” She scrambled past him and unlocked her car. But before she slid in, Elizabeth said, “Thank you. For the protection, I mean. I appreciate it.”

      He inclined his head toward her. “I get the feeling that if anything happened to you, there’d be hell to pay from Mac. I guess he’s pretty fond of his librarian.”

      What? Shaking her head, she cranked the car and drove away. A quick glance in her mirror showed that Sullivan was coming after her, climbing into that SUV and following right behind her.

      Protection.

      She shivered.

      * * *

      THE PHONE ON her desk rang hours later and Elizabeth reached out automatically, answering in what she thought of as her professional library voice as she said, “This is Elizabeth Snow. How may I help you?”

      “You can die, Elizabeth.”

      “Excuse me?”

      “Should’ve happened years ago. When you were hiding in that cabin as your boyfriend bled out,” his raspy voice said. “The young lovers could’ve died together.”

      She shot to her feet. Sullivan was about fifteen feet away, thumbing through a magazine. She waved frantically to him.

      “Stop it,” that voice snapped. “I can see you.” Then laughter. “Do you really think the McGuires are going to stand in my way? I can just eliminate them, too.”

      She stopped waving. She barely breathed.

      “Better, but it’s too late. He’s already closing in, isn’t he?”

      Sullivan was marching toward her.

      “You’ll pay for that,” the voice promised her. “You’re going to pay for everything.”

      Click.

      “Elizabeth?” Sullivan was in front of her. “What’s happening?”

      She glanced down at the phone in her hand. “He called me again.” Her shoulders hunched as she glanced around the library. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, “He’s here. He could see me and you.”

      The staff at the library had already been put on alert about her previous attack, but there were only a few other employees at that location, and the last thing she wanted to do was put any of them in harm’s way.

      Sullivan’s face tensed. “We’re leaving.”

      “I—I can’t! My shift still has hours to go—”

      “A killer just threatened you.”

      “And you,” she told him quietly. “He threatened you, too.” She didn’t even know who the guy was. A glance at the screen on the phone showed only...Unknown caller. Could they trace the call from the library? Surely they could—traces happened all the time on the crime shows she’d seen on TV.

      “Come with me,” Sullivan ordered. “Now.” Then he was hurrying around her desk and taking her elbow. The guy seriously double-timed it as he started rushing her through that library. “Look around,” he said, voice curt. “See if you notice anyone