High-Caliber Holiday. Susan Sleeman

fixed me up a couple of times. I tried to get out of them, but she’s kind of pushy.” He frowned. “If not for her, I wouldn’t have gone on a date, either.”

      Morgan switched her focus to Rossi. “Brady’s single and attractive. Does it surprise you that he hasn’t been dating?”

      “Don’t know about how attractive he is,” he scowled. “But we’re not talking about Owens, here. He isn’t claiming someone left a surprise in his apartment.”

      “Claiming?” The word shot out, ending Morgan’s plan to keep to the point. “You don’t believe me, do you? You think I staged this for some reason.”

      “Honestly?” Rossi arched a brow as the charged air hung between them. “Your story rings false. I’m more inclined to believe you had a fight with a boyfriend, and now you want him to get in trouble so you call us with a bogus story.”

      She planted her hands on her hips. “I did no such thing, and I certainly hope you’re planning to investigate my complaint.”

      “Frankly,” he said flipping his notebook closed, “I’m not. There’s no proof of a break-in and our resources are stretched thin already...”

      “Hold up,” Brady stepped in. “You can at least canvass the neighbors and dust for prints. Maybe talk to the management company.”

      Rossi scowled at Brady, but Morgan smiled her thanks at him.

      “That I can do, but you should know, every minute I spend on this takes time away from looking into the other threats that have been made against you.”

      “That’s obviously a priority,” Brady said.

      Rossi held up a hand. “Don’t worry. I understand and I’ll do my part. Just know that I have a lot on my plate right now. So I’ll grab my fingerprint kit and get started.” He stepped out of the kitchen.

      Morgan sighed out her frustration. She caught sight of the rose again. Red and threatening against the white countertop. Like blood. Vivid and terrifying. A sharp jolt of fear stabbed through her. She looked at Brady, found his focus fixed on her.

      “Are you going to leave now?” Her voice caught as she asked.

      “I’ll stay until Rossi finishes up,” he replied.

      “Thank you,” she whispered in relief.

      She hated that she sounded weak. Hated feeling weak, but she hated the thought of being alone even more. For the first time since she’d moved into her apartment, she wondered why she’d ever been so desperate to be alone.