Claimed by The Detective Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
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I can check my security cameras, but first things first – checking no one else is inside the house and making sure that Jenna is okay.

“Jenna?” I call out again. I duck inside my office, but it’s empty. I quickly move through the other downstairs rooms. They’re empty, and I was already coming down the stairs when the door slammed, so there must be nobody else here. That’s good, but now I still have to find Jenna.

Wait a second – she wasn’t upstairs. And if the door slammed but no one came in.

I rush back into the office and look again. There – the desk drawer is open.

No.

She found the file.

She must have run out.

I’m not even wearing a jacket, let alone shoes. I grab a coat from a peg beside the door, shove my shoes onto my feet as quickly as possible, and then pat my pockets for my cell phone. It’s not there.

Damnit! I run back upstairs so fast I nearly trip, grab my phone from beside the table, and then rush back to the door before running outside.

I hit the street and then looked left and right. Where would she go? Where is she? I can’t see any sign of her. I took too long to realize it was her leaving. She’s had too much of a head start on me.

Think, Hunter. Where would you be going if you were her? If you’d just found a dossier of information about your father that makes him look terrible – and which makes you think that the person you’re with is untrustworthy.

You would go to your father.

Maybe that’s it – she’s gone to confront him. She just wants to show him the file and ask him about all of it, demanding answers. That’s what I would want to do – to find out what the hell he was thinking, to make sure it was all true.

I rush to my car and throw myself behind the wheel, starting it up in a hurry and pulling out. She’ll have to run for either the bus or the taxi.

I don’t know if I’ll be able to beat her to the bus, but I might be able to beat her to her Dad’s place. The best thing I can hope for is to meet her there.

And when she’s got a seat, I’m sure she’ll calm down and want to call me to ask about the file. Tell me where she’s gone.

She’ll call me. I just have to be here ready for her to call. And I’ll be there when she gets to her Dad’s to give her support.

This has to work.

I rush through the city and find my way to the address we’ve been working around the last few days. The house where she grew up must be layered with so much meaning for her as well.

I pull up outside and see her father’s car parked out front, which is a good sign. It means he’s likely inside. I just hope he’s alone – or that Jenna has already gone in, and she’s talking to him now.

I stare up and down the street, now finding myself at an impasse. I can’t see her, and I can’t possibly know whether she is here already or another fifteen or twenty minutes away.

I don’t know what method she chose to get here. It could have been a taxi or a slow bus, and I didn’t even know what direction to look.

Damn me and my lapse of concentration. I’m supposed to be a private detective. Why didn’t I notice right away that the desk drawer was open? And why didn’t I put two and two together sooner and realize that it had to have been Jenna leaving?

If I had run out right then, I could have skipped putting on my shoes and coat and just run after her. Then, I would have had a good chance of catching her.

Even if I didn’t catch her, I might have seen her catching a bus or a taxi. At least I would then know what to expect.

But I just had to choose this one day to be dense, didn’t I?

A hint of movement catches my eye, and I sit up straight, looking ahead down the street.

It’s her.

She’s on foot, clutching the file against herself. I realize she isn’t wearing her coat or carrying her purse – she must have rushed out so quickly that she wasn’t even thinking straight. She must be cold. I open the car door and get out, ready to rush over to her.

But then she sees me, stops dead, and looks at me with such betrayal in her eyes that I realize I’ve made a grave miscalculation.

Or perhaps I just didn’t want to believe it. But now I see it in her face.

She found the file and thinks the worst, and now she hates me.


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