Read Krewe of Hunters 1 Phantom Evil for Free Online Page B

really liked Andy Devereaux—and the crime scene unit to leave.
    Of course, it was a bit uncomfortable, having Jackson Crow watch her throughout the proceedings as if he was studying a strange and foreign object—or meeting an alien.
    Her hunger was going to have to wait. When the other officers had left, Jackson asked Andy about the police shooting range. Andy arched a brow. “It’s getting late—”
    â€œCan we still get in?”
    â€œI’d like a little target practice,” Jackson said. Angela felt her cheeks color. He didn’t want target practice; he wanted to see if she was really capable with a weapon.
    Andy looked at his watch. “Come on, then, let’s get the house locked up, and I’ll take you.”
    Jackson stared at Angela. “Shall we get our weapons?”
    Yes, she thought. She was being put on trial. Fine; she’d go to target practice.
    It was quiet when they arrived; two men were down the row, earmuffs stifling the constant sound of the explosions.
    Andy wasn’t practicing; he set up Jackson and Angela.
    Her gun was a Glock and she knew how to use it. Somehow, she’d been blessed with twenty-twenty vision, and the ability to utilize it and her weapon properly to aim. Her stance was steady, and comfortable, and she used both hands in a grip known as the Weaver position, her weaker hand—her left—supporting her grip. She was stronger than she looked, and ready for the powerful recoil on the gun. She didn’t letJackson’s presence disturb her, and in a matter of seconds, she’d removed the entire heart area from her target.
    She turned and looked at Jackson, who hadn’t fired a shot yet. “Satisfied?”
    He had the grace to grin. “I just want to make sure you’re ready for whatever comes.”
    â€œMy dossier must have told you that I can shoot,” she said.
    â€œSome things are best viewed in the world,” he said with a shrug. He turned away from her. “Andy, this was great. Thanks.”
    â€œYep. I’ll get you back. It’s getting late.”
    Andy brought them back to the house. Angela’s stomach had begun to ache. She couldn’t help it; she was feeling resentful and irritated. She was being judged.
    At last they closed the front door on Devereaux, and Angela noted that although she had taken out her weapon as requested, she hadn’t taken her suitcases, small as they were, anywhere yet, and she should probably pick a room before going out.
    â€œI’m just going to throw those somewhere and find a place to eat,” she said to Jackson, whose gaze remained on her.
    He nodded. “I’ll go with you. I haven’t had dinner, or, anything that really resembled lunch, for that matter.”
    Not an emotion in sight. Jackson Crow was an interesting and arresting man. She’d assumed that his surname, Crow, definitely meant something of a Native American background. His eyes, however, were an extremely deep shade of blue—not black at all, as she had first imagined. A strong contrast with his black hair. He seemed excellent at concealing his thoughts and emotions, but she had seen a look in those deep dark eyes a few times that seemed to judge her as being certifiably insane.Then again, of course, given the way he had found her, she supposed it might be quite logical that he’d look at her as if she was a bit askew.
    If she quit on the first day, would they let her back on to the force?
    She wasn’t going to quit. No matter how he looked at her.
    â€œDid you pick a room?” she asked.
    â€œI thought I’d take one that’s straight up the stairs and to the left. I put my bags there. Some of them need sheets and a dusting, but there are three rooms on the level just above us that have apparently been kept up… I’m assuming the senator and his wife were prepared for company, live-in help, and probably, the senator’s aide,