Read Takedown (An Alexandra Poe Thriller) for Free Online Page B

that had covered the door. But the one to her right didn’t seem as tight to the frame as the other one, so she walked over for a closer inspection. Several nails were missing, and those that remained appeared a bit loose in their sockets. This could have been from normal wear and tear, but her gut told her it wasn’t.
    She grabbed the edge of the board, intending to give it a good yank to test its strength, but she’d barely started when the whole board fell off the wall and revealed a shattered windowpane.
    Shit.
    Someone had been inside.
    Might still be, for all she knew.
    She reached into the toolbox, wrapped her fingers around the handle of the hammer, and returned to the door. She twisted the knob, pushed it open a crack, and listened, knowing her caution was probably pointless after all the racket she’d been making. If someone had been inside when she arrived, they’d be long gone by now.
    Then again, if that someone was hostile, he might be waiting for her.
    Hearing nothing suspicious, Alex widened the gap and slid sideways into the living room, keeping the hammer raised as she swiveled her head, alert for any sign of movement. The tarp that covered the sofa had an obvious dent in it where someone’s ass had taken residence, and an empty bottle of Swamp Head ale sat on the wooden-plank coffee table her grandfather had made.
    She supposed it could have been left by the laborer who had put up the plywood, but she didn’t think so. Not with that broken window.
    Peering into the kitchen, she saw a spent candle on the countertop—to compensate for the lack of electricity—and another empty bottle of ale, along with a crumpled pack of cigarettes.  
    Tightening her grip on the hammer, she started down the narrow hallway that led to the two bedrooms and the deck that overlooked the ocean. Both bedroom doors were hanging open, the mattresses stripped of sheets. She almost continued on, but something on the floor of the room she and Danny used to share caught her eye. She stepped inside and her jaw tensed.
    A sleeping bag.
    Surely whoever had slept here had plans to come back. Or maybe he was outside, hiding in the thick tangle of bougainvillea trees, hoping she would soon leave.
    Angry now, Alex snatched up the sleeping bag with her free hand and dragged it down the hallway toward the small den that was used to access the back patio. Not surprisingly, the door to the deck was no longer boarded. After throwing it open, she stepped outside, looked out at the bay and the trees, and flung the bag over the rail to the ground below.
    “Okay, asshole, time to find yourself a new place to crash.” She raised the hammer, shaking it at the trees. “And if you come back again, you’d better have health insurance, because you’re definitely gonna need it.”
    She hadn’t expected an answer and didn’t get one. All she heard was the rustle of leaves in the wind, and the distant raspy cry of a mangrove cuckoo. But again she had that gut feeling. That sixth sense she had picked up during her tour in Iraq.
    Someone was out there and had heard every word she’d said.
    She hoped he’d taken her seriously.

    She was in the storage shed, trying to decide whether to go through the boxes or simply dump them all, when she heard tires on the driveway and the thrum of an engine.
    Wiping her dusty hands on her jeans, she stepped outside and waved hello as a Ford came to a stop next to her car, and the man she assumed was Thomas Gérard emerged.  
    He was much better looking than she had pictured him. Definitely European, with a bit of a Clive Owen vibe.
    He said, “Nice to finally meet you, Ms. Poe.”
    His smile was disarming, and she had no doubt it had served him well. She stepped forward and shook his hand. “Yes. It’s good to see a face to go with the voice.”
    “And the e-mails. Don’t forget the e-mails.”
    “You’ve been persistent, I’ll give you that.” She turned now and looked at the house, seeing little more