The Watcher
by
Linsey Lanier
A Miranda and Parker Mystery
Book 4
Copyright © 2014 Linsey Lanier
All rights reserved. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, please return to your online distributor and purchase your own copy.
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Felicity Books
ISBN: 978-1-941191-10-1
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High in the mountains of southeastern Brazil a killer lurks.
When Parker gets a call from an old friend who needs the top investigator’s aid to stop whoever is sending her death threats, Miranda feels the call of her destiny. But it seems a lot of people would like to get their hands on the new client’s valuable mountain resort property and any of them might be the potential killer. Plus Parker’s old personal losses make him hesitate to involve Miranda in the case, causing nothing but friction.
He needs to get over it fast. The killer is on the attack. And if she and Parker can’t figure out who is sending those letters soon, they all might wind up dead.
Edited by
Editing for You
More Books by Linsey Lanier
THE MIRANDA’S RIGHTS MYSTERY SERIES
Someone Else’s Daughter – Book I
Delicious Torment – Book II
Forever Mine – Book III
Fire Dancer – Book IV
Thin Ice – Book V
THE MIRANDA AND PARKER MYSTERY SERIES
All Eyes on Me
Heart Wounds
Clowns and Cowboys
The Watcher
Look for the next mystery later in 2015
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Steal My Heart (A Romantic Suspense)
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You Want Me to Kill Who? (A Dandy Frost—Ninja Assassin Story) #1
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The Clever Detective Boxed Set 2 (A Fairy Tale Romance): Stories 1-5
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
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Excerpts
Chapter One
He watched her.
Hidden beneath a canopy of cool green mountain laurels at the edge of the property, he watched her emerge from the elegant home and stride across the lawn to the road.
His heart swelled, the folds of her expensive silk suit of frosty cream mesmerizing him as she moved. Her lovely neck was graced with jewels. Her long black hair was caught up in the back, neat and straight, as always. Oh, how he wished she would let her hair flow free to blow in the breeze as he’d seen her do in her own garden.
She moved down the road with purpose, her long, luscious legs turning every step into a work of art. He studied the curve of her calf, the flex in her muscles as she walked. Longing burned in his breast. She was breathtaking.
Strength, grace, determination. Too much determination.
Butterflies skirted along the tall grass, making the view even more perfect. He loved the fresh mountain air. He loved this land of Campos de Flores. Twenty-four hundred kilometers below the equator and fifty-six to the sea. It was a land like no other.
He rubbed his arms. At last the days were beginning to grow chilly. The hydrangeas were still in bloom, their wide blue blossoms covering the ground. Winter was late this year but he welcomed the cool weather.
She was almost to the end of the lane now. Heading just where he feared she might be.
He followed her.
It was not hard to keep himself well hidden from sight. He knew these forest paths, as the gringos say, like the back of his hand. He was right about her destination.
Without a sound or the rustle of a leaf he matched her stride and kept pace until she reached the steps of the Boteco do Sabor.
A young man in the standard white coat and black slacks greeted her, led her across the room.
The garçom seated her at a table with another, older man. He wore a dark tweed suit and thick horn-rimmed glasses.
Oh, no, Portia. She could only be up to one thing. The last thing he wanted her to do. The thing he would never allow her to do.
And yet there she sat, such a serious frown between her dark brows. The man pulled out papers from an attaché case to show her. Conducting business? No, this was more than business.
He watched the two of them order drinks and sip them slowly as they continued to chat. The man had plain coffee. And Tia? She would choose Caipifruta with mango. Only the freshest for her.
Quietly he clucked his tongue as if he were scolding a child.
If she kept behaving like that, he would have to take action soon. If she kept behaving like that, he would have to stop her. But she couldn’t go through with what he knew she was discussing with this man. Could she? Could she truly betray him? Watching the intent look on her face as she listened and slowly nodded, he knew she could.
His heart sank in bitter disappointment. This meant he would have to make good on his promise soon. He would have no choice. He would have to act. What a shame.
It would break his heart to lose her. But she would remain a beautiful memory in his heart forever. He wished it was not so but there was no other way.
As much as he admired her beauty and grace, he would have to kill her.
Chapter Two
A warm Atlant
a-in-July breeze caressing her face, Miranda Steele sat on the patio of a Peachtree Street restaurant sipping the odd-tasting chai tea Coco had insisted she try, and half listening to her friends chatter away about meaningless girl things.
The dark umbrella overhead afforded some shade, but the fierce Georgia sun beat down on the urban landscape surrounding them, with its noisy traffic, its billboards of upcoming events, and its tall scaffolding promising new construction.
Miranda felt right at home.
Of all the places she’d been in her wanderings, she guessed she liked cities the best. And this city was the closest to a home she’d ever had. A good home, anyway. She’d found friends here, a great job, and love.
But she could do without shopping.
They were doing lunch after a morning trip to the mall Miranda had tried to get out of. But, no. Her friends had insisted on picking her up early, and with barely enough time to wolf down a cup of coffee and a protein bar, had ushered her out the door of the Parker mansion, and straight to Elegant Ensembles, a ritzy boutique on Peachtree Road. And that was before heading to the mall.
Ugh.
Now she sat nibbling a girlie salad with a bag at her feet that held two new dresses she didn’t really want and a new pair of jeans that had far too much glitter on the ass. What a girl had to do for friends.
But these were friends she would do a lot more for, and had.
Beside her Coco sat wearing jeans and a frilly pink top that made her wavy blond hair seem extra delicate. She was now married to Parker’s surrogate son, Antonio Estavez, which sort of made her Miranda’s daughter-in-law. She chatted in her animated way with her big blue eyes aglow about the new song Antonio had written for her. She was going to debut it that evening at the Gecko Club, where she sang and played the piano.
Fanuzzi, in a burnt orange halter top and a new frosted hairdo Miranda thought was a little too much, listened with a love struck look on her face. A pretty mushy expression for a former road crew worker. But the woman who’d become Miranda’s best friend always managed to surprise her.
Beside her was Parker’s daughter, Gen, all prim and proper in a black sleeveless blouse and skinny jeans.
She turned to Fanuzzi with a gracious brush on her arm. “I really loved those duck á l’orange canapés you did for the Grayson reception last month.”
Grayson reception? Miranda hadn’t even heard about it.
“Thanks,” Fanuzzi said. “My secret is fresh ingredients.”
Gen smiled then sipped the strong espresso she was drinking without so much as glancing at Miranda.
Tall and lean, with her short almost white blonde hair and sharp expressive brows, Parker’s daughter had once been Miranda’s supervisor and had hated her guts. She’d mellowed some after Miranda had saved her life, but she knew the woman still felt her father had married beneath him. Which was true on a social level. Not that she cared.
Coco’s big blue eyes glowed. “Oh, yes. I’m so sorry you missed that party, Miranda. Joan’s food was an absolute hit. I just adored the little chocolate pastries you did.”
“Thanks. It was fun.” And Fanuzzi actually blushed.
Miranda vaguely remembered an invitation that had come in the mail. Had that been the Grayson event? She and Parker must have missed it because they had been out of town on a case. Not that skipping it was any loss. At least in her mind.
“And speaking of parties,” Fanuzzi waggled her dark brows at everyone with a conspiratorial grin. “We’re supposed to be planning one now.”
Miranda scratched her neck, suddenly uncomfortable. That was the real reason for this outing. These ladies wanted to throw her and Parker an anniversary party in a few weeks to celebrate their first year of wedded bliss. Well, Fanuzzi and Coco did. Gen was going along for the ride, Miranda suspected.
Coco reached over and squeezed Miranda’s hand. “Oh, yes. What are your ideas, Joan?”
Really in her element now, Fanuzzi’s brown eyes flashed with excitement. “Well, I thought we’d have it at Luigi’s. You know, it’s small and intimate.”
Coco and Gen oohed their approval.
Miranda forced a grin.
Intimate? Sure, it was only going to be their circle, but the really intimate part would come the next day when she and Parker were alone in the mansion. Parker had promised her that with something obviously in mind. She suspected they’d be giving the Taj Mahal room another whirl. They hadn’t used it in a while. The very thought made her tingle.
“There’ll be a gift table and decorations,” Fanuzzi said.
Gen nodded. “What are you thinking of?”
“White roses at each place setting. Made out of paper of course.” Fanuzzi turned to Miranda as if asking for approval.
Miranda raised a brow. “Why paper?”
Fanuzzi gave her a shove on the arm. “That’s the traditional gift for the first anniversary, silly.”
Gen shook her head as if Miranda was a hopeless case.
Coco patted her other arm. “Miranda just isn’t as formal as you two.”
Fanuzzi formal? They used to lay asphalt together.
Miranda turned to her old friend. “Okay, smartie. Since you’re so traditional, what paper gift is Becker giving you?”
Fanuzzi had married Miranda’s best bud at the Agency, a guy who’d turned out to be Fanuzzi’s childhood sweetheart, just a few weeks before her own wedding.
As if she had something up her sleeve, Fanuzzi looked around the table with a wicked grin. Then she reached into her purse and pulled out two slips of paper. Airplane tickets.
Coco saw the destination first and sucked in a breath so big she could have inflated an air balloon with it. “Paris? He’s taking you to Paris?”
She shrugged. “I’m taking him. I won the Summer Dessert Contest.”
Summer Dessert Contest? What in the heck was that?
“You did?” Coco gushed. “That’s absolutely wonderful!”
“Congratulations. What did you enter?” Gen wanted to know.
“My Chocolate Raspberry Delight. The prize is a week of classes at the Cordon Bleu in Paris. Chocolatier classes,” she made a ha, ha, ha noise with a fake French accent. “When I told Dave, he said since we spent our honeymoon with the kids at Disney World, he should go, too. This time he said he wants it to be romantic. The kids will be staying with my mother.”
Gen and Coco made more oohing noises. Lower ones this time.
But Miranda wrinkled her nose. “How can it be romantic if you’re in school all day?”
“Classes get out early in the afternoon. The rest of the day we can go sightseeing and…other stuff.” Fanuzzi waggled her brows. “There’s a whole lot of things you can do with chocolate.”
Miranda had to grin at that idea. She was happy for her friend but she suddenly felt like she was missing out on her life. She’d never really had friends before. She still didn’t quite know what to do with them.
Plus she wondered how Becker was going to work on that little project she’d given him while he was in Paris. She’d been getting strange text messages on her cell phone lately and Becker was supposed to figure out who’d made the calls.
Just as she opened her mouth to warn Fanuzzi about getting carried away and falling off the Eiffel Tower, a sleek midnight blue Lamborghini pulled up to the curb.
The driver door opened and a figure stepped out.
Miranda’s heart went into overdrive at the sight of his well-toned body under a slate gray, muscle-revealing polo shirt and dark slacks. Talk about yummy desserts.
His dark salt-and-pepper hair and thick, expressive brows made him look every bit as distinguished and successful as he was. Son of a real estate mogul, ace PI, owner of the top investigative firm in the southeast, and the best man she’d ever known.
Wade Russell Parker the Third.
As he began to move toward her with his confident stride, he fixed her with those penetrating gunmetal gray eyes and the whole world seemed to disa
ppear except for him.
Even after almost a year of marriage, he could still turn her insides to a gooey mush.
He reached her table and greeted everyone with his usual southern aristocratic charm. Then he turned to Miranda. “May I have a word with you?”
Miranda ignored the annoyed look Gen shot at her. Wiping her mouth, she got to her feet. “Sure. Excuse me,” she said to Coco and Fanuzzi.
When they stepped around the corner, Miranda turned to him. “What is it?”
While the ladies went shopping Parker had spent the morning in a small plane with Estavez. Miranda had been surprised to learn that Parker had a private pilot’s license and that Estavez was learning to fly as well. Her husband was always full of secrets.
It was rare Parker and his son got to spend that much time together and he had been looking forward to it.
Something must be up if he cut the visit short.
He reached for her arm and his exquisite face went serious as he lowered his voice. “I’ve been calling for an hour. Why didn’t you answer?”
Uh oh. “I got a new phone. It’s a different number.”
She’d given her old cell to Becker to figure out where those weird messages were coming from. The last thing she wanted was for Parker to find out about them. She hadn’t thought of a good way to tell him she had a new number. Guess it was too late now.
“Why didn’t you use the same phone? Jenkins could have installed the sim chip. You wouldn’t have had to change numbers.”
But then they wouldn’t know if another message came in on the old one. Play dumb, she decided.
She scratched at her hair and sputtered out a half laugh. “I guess I didn’t think about that. You know me and cell phones.” It had taken her awhile to get used to using one, though she couldn’t live without it now.
Parker watched his wife’s beautiful deep blue eyes with their long dark lashes that never failed to mesmerize him. He saw her pupils dilate, her nostrils flare just a bit. As always, her eyes, her wild hair, her lean lovely body even in casual clothes pulled at his heart and threatened to distract him. This time he would not give in to their power over him.
The Watcher (A Miranda and Parker Mystery Book 4) Page 1
