Kansas City Secrets Read Online Free

twine from the cabinet’s top shelf. Nor could she ignore the typed message pinned to the polyester material.
    I know what you did.
    You don’t deserve to be rewarded.
    You can’t escape justice.
    Who would...? Why would...?
    Duchess dropped the slobbery ball at her feet, and the dogs buffeted her back and forth, eager for her to throw it again. When she didn’t immediately respond, the German shepherd rose up on her hind legs to help herself to another toy inside the cabinet, and Rosemary snapped out of her shock.
    â€œDown, girl. Get down.” Rosemary pushed the black-and-tan dog aside and closed the cabinet doors. Then she latched onto Duchess’s collar and swung her gaze around the yard.
    Was someone watching her right now? Was some sicko out there getting off on just how terrified he could make her feel?
    She led the dogs to the side gate with her to check the front of the house. No doubt picking up on her alarm, Trixie barked at nothing in particular. At least, nothing Rosemary could make out. She saw regular, light evening traffic out on the street, with all the cars driving slowly past because of the kids playing nearby. The Keiths had gone inside. There was no visible movement in the Dinkle house next door.
    Rosemary’s breath burned in her throat. This had gone beyond excusing those calls as some drunk who’d read her name in the paper. Somebody wanted her scared? He’d succeeded.
    â€œDuchess, heel. Trixie?” The German shepherd fell into step beside Rosemary as she scooped up the poodle. “No one’s going to hurt you, baby.”
    She checked the separate entrance that led to the basement apartment where Stephen had lived when he’d gotten older. Good. Bolted tight. Then she took the dogs inside the kitchen and locked both the screen and steel doors behind her before punching in the code to reset the alarm. She flipped on the patio light, gave the dogs each her own rawhide chew and walked straight through to the front door, turning on every light inside and out.
    Verifying for a second time that every room of the house was empty, Rosemary returned to the kitchen to brew a pot of green tea and fill a glass of ice to pour it over.
    Her hands were shaking too hard to hold on to the frosty glass by the time she’d curled up on the library sofa with the dogs at her feet and the lights blazing. She should turn on the TV, read a book, sort through another box of papers and family mementos that had become her summer project, or get ready for bed and pretend she had any shot at sleeping now.
    Rosemary deliberated each option for several moments before springing to her feet and circling around behind the large walnut desk that had been her father’s. She opened the bottom drawer and pushed aside a box of photographs to unlock her father’s old Army pistol from its metal box. It had been years since he’d taken her and Stephen target shooting out at a cousin’s farm in the country, so she couldn’t even be sure the thing still worked, much less remember exactly how to clean and load it. Still, it offered some measure of protection besides Duchess and Trixie. She pulled out the gun, magazine and a box of bullets and set them on top of the desk.
    Then, even if they thought she was some sad, lonely spinster desperate for attention, she took a long swallow of her iced tea, picked up the phone and called KCPD to report the latest threat.

Chapter Two
    Detective Max Krolikowski was a soldier by training. He was mission oriented. Dinkin’ around on a wild-goose chase to see if some woman had talked to some guy about a crime that had occurred ages ago, just in case somebody somewhere could shed some new light on the unsolved case he and his partner from KCPD’s Cold Case Squad were investigating, was not his idea of a good time.
    Especially not today.
    Max stepped on the accelerator of his ’72 Chevy Chevelle, fisting his hand around the