Whatever It Takes (Stonewall Investigations Blue Creek #3) Read Online Max Walker

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Stonewall Investigations Blue Creek Series by Max Walker
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Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
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He kissed me again, giving me my answer as he turned his car off. I kissed him back. This tidal wave would carry us straight into a beach of bliss. I’d worry about whatever Jason had to say about Harry later. We could talk it out; I could convince him that his brother wouldn’t care if we got together. Why would he? Harry was a grown-ass adult with his own happy life. He wouldn’t stop us from working toward the same.

“Let’s go,” I said, my lips wet and my cock straining against my jeans. I could see Jason felt the same way, the outline of his hard length clear against his thigh.

Before we got out of the car, something stopped me. I put my hand on Jason’s chest, pushing him back into the seat. I leaned forward, looking closer at the house I was staying in. Immediately, I knew something was wrong.

“What?” Jason asked, looking around the car for whatever had made me pause.

“That light,” I said, pointing up to the second-floor bedroom window. “I didn’t leave it on.”

“You sure?”

“Extremely.”

Jason and I looked at each other before uttering one single, unified word: “Shit.”

11

JASON QUILL

Matthew was good with details. It was his thing, his gift in life. He had a photographic memory and never forgot even the most obscure detail. He would have known if he left his bedroom light on before leaving earlier in the day, when the sun was high in the sky and a light wouldn’t have even been needed.

I turned off all the lights in my car and cut the engine. Silence. A bluish darkness filled the car like ink spilling from a pen. Pale white moonlight filtered in. The house was a two-story shingle-style behemoth that took up almost the entire cul-de-sac it rested on, outsizing most of the neighbors. The long driveway wound through a tightly kept hedge garden, the lines of dark green as clean as could be. The gate allowing entrance into the driveway was closed, its solid iron bars topped with decorative spikes that looked impossible to climb. No other light in the house was on.

Matt leaned forward, hands on the dash as he took a closer look at the house. His hawk-like eyes scanned the property. “It doesn’t look like any windows are broken, and the front doors are shut.”

“Maybe the mayor has some faulty wiring she should sort out?”

“Maybe,” Matt answered in a tone that made it clear he didn’t think that was a possibility.

“Well,” I said, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s go check it out.”

Matthew looked at me and smiled, in the same way he’d done a hundred other times, each one somehow sweeter than the last. “I missed working with you.”

“Same,” I replied and matched his smile.

Fucking shit, I was going to need to have a serious talk with Matt about Harry. And then I’d likely need another serious talk with Harry about Matt.

What a fucking mess.

And it was a mess I’d deal with later. Matt got out of the car, shutting the door without making a sound. I followed suit, walking with him over to the control panel on the gate. He tapped in a number, and the heavy gates slowly swung open, their joints creaking under the strain. It was certainly loud enough to announce our presence, but nothing inside the house changed. The bedroom light stayed on; the rest stayed off. No movement, no sounds.

We walked down the driveway. I had a hand over the gun holstered in the waistband of my jeans. Adrenaline spiked through my veins like bolts of lightning. The cobblestone path sloped upward and branched to the left, where we walked up onto a covered porch that was bloated with rocking chairs and abandoned plant potters. Matt pressed down on the door handle and pushed, but it was still locked.

“Let’s check the back,” he said in a hushed whisper. He led the way off the porch and around the house. I kept on high alert, trying to pick up on any kind of noise or spot some sort of clue. Who had been here? And why? Who even knew where Matt lived?

More silence greeted us as we turned the corner into Matt’s yard. Directly ahead of us was the forest, gaping with a maw of jagged teeth made from swaying pine trees. Shadows seemed to move as if of their own accord, jumping from behind tree to tree.

A chill crawled down my spine, and it had nothing to do with the chilly night.

“Back door’s locked, too. None of the windows are broken.”

“And you don’t hide any of your keys out here, right?”

Matt cocked his head. “Jace, I’m an FBI agent, not a gullible househusband. I keep all my keys with me.”

“Says the one who thought Mars was made up because of a lie some kid told you in gym class.”



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