The Edge of Dawn Read Online Free

away.
    Saint chuckled softly.
    When they reached the outskirts of Grand Rapids,he pulled the car into the parking lot of an all-suites hotel and cut the engine. Narice’s watch showed the time to be just past 6:30. She could see hotel guests loading luggage into their cars while others trooped over to the building for the chain’s famous free breakfast buffet.
    He turned to her and said, “Don’t even think about reaching out to someone. The sooner we get this search underway the sooner you can have your life back.”
    Narice didn’t respond. If he thought she was going to stop trying to escape he was crazy.
    He got out. She knew if she ran, he’d catch her so she bided her time and watched him remove her suitcase from the trunk. She was surprised to see it. Last time she saw it Ridley’s cabbie friend was placing it in the cab’s trunk. She wondered if it had been put into this car by the same person who’d left her pumps on the seat after her foiled escape attempt.
    The sight of him coming around to her side of the car brought her back to the situation at hand. He opened the door and she got out.
    The all-suites hotel belonged to a national chain Narice often stayed in when she traveled. There were so many buildings on this particular site, the property resembled an apartment complex. Since her keeper didn’t head towards the building housing the registration desk, she assumed check-in arrangements had already been made. Sure enough, he led her up a short flight of wooden stairs to one of the upstairs units and stuck a key in the door.
    â€œWait here,” he told her, then added firmly, “and I do mean, wait.”
    Narice’s chin rose. As of now, she’d been up a straight twenty-four hours and after all she’d been through since leaving her daddy’s memorial, the fatigue had taken its toll. Her body felt like limp spaghetti. She wasn’t giving up on escaping, but at this particular moment, she didn’t have the strength to do anything but wait.
    Inside, Saint drew his gun and searched the place from stem to stern, looking for intruders. The suite had two floors. The first level held a well-stocked kitchen, complete with stove, refrigerator, dishwasher, and microwave. To the right, lay the living room area with couch and chairs, and an intimate fireplace. The bed stood near the wall.
    He stepped back outside. “Come on in. I’m going to put you upstairs.”
    The upper level held a big bed, a television, and a bathroom. He set her suitcase by the bed.
    â€œGet some sleep.”
    Narice had one question to ask. “Did you have anything to do with my father’s death?”
    He looked her in the eyes and answered without hesitation. “No.”
    And he left.

Two
    Narice awakened around noon to the smells of coffee and bacon. Turning over in the bed, she snuggled deeper, intending to sleep longer but the brief brush with consciousness made her remember where she was, and then it all came back—the encounter with Ridley, her kidnapping, her father’s burial. She wondered if things could get any worse? Probably, said the cynic inside. Probably.
    She got up and walked the short distance to the bathroom. On the way she saw that she’d slept in her suit and shrugged it off. She’d been so drained this morning the moment her head hit the pillow, she’d immediately fallen asleep. The six-hundred-dollar ensemble was a wrinkled mess, but she didn’t care; she just wanted a shower.
    Before stripping off her clothes, though, Narice made sure the lock on the bathroom door worked. Satisfied, she took care of her morning needs, then stepped into the glass stall. The spray was hot and powerful, a perfect combination for a woman trying to pull herself back together.
    Dressed in a pair of jeans, a white silk Tee, and carrying the blue silk jacket she’d picked up in Barcelona last year, Narice came downstairs. Saint was