Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 by Karen Whiddon (interesting books to read for teens TXT) 📕

the guy has a photographic memory. Or, like you, he might’ve thought you looked familiar, too.”

“Are you trying to scare me? Is that what this line of questioning or conversation is about? Because if it is, it’s not working. I’m not afraid,” she said with the conviction of someone wanting to believe her own words. “The FBI agents said that my name would not be released for any reason. Everyone in the bank was questioned. We’re all witnesses, and I didn’t see much of the one robber. I probably couldn’t even pick him out of a lineup if I had to. I’m not afraid.”

“I’m glad you’re not, but I am. I don’t like any of this.”

Trace started the car and glanced around the lot as if looking for something or someone. Connie could easily see out, but his car windows were tinted so dark, there was no way anyone could see into the vehicle. She wasn’t sure why that thought set her at ease—a little—but it did.

In her heart, she was sure the robber wouldn’t recognize her even if he passed her on the street. Yet a small part of her kept wondering...what if he did?

CHAPTER 4

“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re always trying to be strong and act like nothin’ is wrong. You did it when Quincy’s trifling ass stole your job, and you’re prob—”

“Erica, don’t go there,” Connie said in a warning tone. She gripped her cell phone tighter, needing her sister not to bring up that situation. Hearing her ex’s name brought back one of the darkest times in Connie’s life. She could admit to picking the wrong men more times than not, but that time had cost her much more than a broken heart.

“What I’m saying,” Erica continued, “is that me and Nakia wouldn’t mind coming over and keeping you company.”

Connie’s hand shook as she poured herself a small glass of wine. She’d been home for hours, and her frayed nerves seemed to be getting worse the later in the day it got.

After leaving the police station, Trace had dropped her off at the office. She thought for sure she’d be able to get some work done before the end of the day. That didn’t happen. Between gazing off into space every few minutes and Trinity hovering over her, Connie had given up.

Like Trace, Trinity had insisted on knowing every detail of the bank incident. She had even suggested assigning her personal security. Connie shot down that idea with the quickness of a striking rattlesnake and then drove herself home.

Now she was tempted to take her sister up on her offer, but didn’t want to impose. “Thanks, sis, but I’ll be all right. Besides, Nakia has school tomorrow. You’d have to get up crazy early in the morning to beat traffic and get her there on time. I’m going to finish cooking, veg out in front of the TV until I can’t keep my eyes open and then go to bed.”

After a long silence, her sister said, “Okay, but if you change your mind, we’ll come over. Or you can always come over here. Actually, that’s a good idea. I’m sure Trinity wouldn’t mind if you worked remotely or if you went into the office a little later.”

“I know she wouldn’t mind, but I do. Listen, I’m going to go about my life the same as usual. That’ll help me move on from this incident. Oh, and remember, you can’t tell anyone that I witnessed anything at the bank. The fewer people who know, the better.”

She wasn’t too concerned that her parents would find out. Actually, even if they knew, Connie wasn’t sure she’d hear from them. Their mother lived in Florida with her new husband and barely stayed in touch, while their father, who had walked out when Connie was ten and started another family, lived in Germany.

“I just want to forget all about today.”

Connie already knew it would be a long time before she forgot, though. Especially since there were moments now when she could still hear the popping of gunshots and the panicked screams.

“My lips are sealed as long as you call me every day. Heck, more than every day. Call me a few times a day to let me know that you’re all right.”

“What’s wrong with Auntie?” Connie heard her niece ask about her in the background. True to her word, Erica only told her that Connie had had a bad day and was feeling a little down.

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that, sweetie,” Erica said, her voice muffled before she returned to the conversation with Connie. “Your niece said she hopes you feel better. She said if you want, you can call her and she’ll tell you some new knock-knock jokes.”

Connie laughed. “I just love that kid. I might take her up on that offer.”

“I’ll make sure I tell her. As for you, try to get some rest, and remember, I’m only a phone call or thirty-minute drive away.”

“I know, sis. Thanks.”

“Oh, and don’t forget,” Erica hurried to say. “I want you to look at a couple of houses with me after work tomorrow. I’ll even treat you to dinner afterward.”

“Sounds good to me.”

After the call ended, Connie set her cell phone on the counter and glanced at the ingredients for a rigatoni dish. “I’m not really feeling pasta,” she mumbled. Instead, she pulled out bread, eggs and milk for her famous cinnamon French toast. Breakfast for dinner always made her feel good, she thought as she hunted through the cupboard for spices.

Thirty minutes later, she inhaled deeply, relishing the comforting scent of hot maple syrup that would go along with her small feast. The tall stack of French toast with a side of sausage and hash browns brought a smile to her face as she loaded up the breakfast tray. There was no way she could consume it all, but Connie planned to eat until she couldn’t eat any more.

She set the tray on the living-room table and returned to