Read Alana Candler, Marked for Murder for Free Online Page A

elevators.
    Kent, looking flustered at the anger filling the hall, nodded at Brad and followed Bo to the elevator.
    Brad ran his fingers through his hair and tried to calm down before going back in to see Alana. How was he going to tell her this news? She’d flip if she thought he even considered the possibility she’d dreamed the whole thing up. He took several calming breaths and gently pushed open the smooth wood of her hospital door.

NINE
     
    THE RAISED VOICES OUTSIDE THE hospital door surprised Alana. When she realized it was Brad’s voice spewing anger, premonition twisted her heart into knots.
    Something was wrong.
    That feeling was confirmed when Brad walked into the room and she saw the tight lines on his face.
    “What is it, Brad? What’s wrong?”
    Brad sat on the side of the bed and touched her arm. Alana stared at him—waiting for him to speak.
    “Bo said there was no room three-thirteen at the hotel on the Ross highway.”
    When she finally spoke, her words were barely above a whisper. “That can’t be. I was there, Brad. I saw the room number. They must have changed the number on the door.”
    Brad shook his head. “It’s not just the door number, Alana. The pictures on the wall . . . the color of the room . . . it all differed from what you described.”
    “Are you saying I’m making it all up?” Her voice was tight.
    Brad leaned forward to her and held her gaze—his voice strong and deliberate. “No. I’m not. I’m saying someone went to a lot of trouble to cover up the fact that you were there.”
    “But, I don’t understand. Why would someone do this? If he wanted money, he would have taken my wallet, my camera. If he didn’t steal anything, then what did he want?”
    Brad’s back stiffened, but he didn’t look away.
    “If he didn’t want to rob me, then he wanted to . . . what? Make sure yesterday was my last day on earth?” She stared at Brad, her expression begging him to tell her it wasn’t true. “Why, Brad?”
    “I’m sorry, honey. I can’t answer that. Think carefully. Have you had any threatening calls lately, or anyone angry enough to want revenge for something you might have done?”
    Alana rubbed her forehead, laid her head back on the downy pillow, and closed her eyes.
    “No.”
    Then she sat up in bed and cringed when her temples pounded and the bruises on her chest knotted.
    “Wait a minute. There was an SUV following me all the way from Landeville last night. I thought it was just my imagination until later. I saw him pull into the hotel parking lot as I was going to my room.”
    “Did you see the person driving? Man or woman?”
    “A man . . . at least, I think it was a man. I couldn’t see his face very well, and he was gone by the time I got into my room.”
    Brad pulled out a notebook. “Describe the vehicle.”
    “Dark blue or black. It was raining and hard to see, but I think it was a Ford.”
    “Was it an Escape?”
    Alana knew he was trying to make her smile. Her mouth straight-lined, and she looked at Brad through her lashes. “Funny, funny! No . . . it looked like . . . an Expedition maybe?—boxier and bigger than the Escape.”
    Brad scribbled in his notebook and looked up. “We’ll find him, Lane. I promise.”
    Alana looked at the determination radiating from Brad’s eyes and nodded. Her voice became a whisper. “I guess my camera’s ruined, isn’t it?”
    Brad nodded. “Was it the one Mom and Dad gave you for Christmas?”
    Alana bit her lip and nodded. Tears blurred her vision and threatened to fall. She could see anger and frustration bubbling in Brad’s eyes like lava in a volcano. He knew how much that camera meant to her. It was a special gift. Their parents saved for a year to buy it and gave it to her a week before they died.
    When he spoke, his voice was soft with emotion. “It’s okay, Lane. Things can be replaced—you can’t. I’m glad you’re okay.”
    Alana slumped down further in the bed, turning her head