Bounty Hunters: 03 Stay Hungry Read Free Page A

more cars slowed, cut each other off, did whatever they could to keep from being hit by the runaway car.
    Marianna couldn't even manage tears. The car crashed head-on into the side of the building, creating a horrific sound that reverberated off buildings surrounding it and temporarily blocked out the repetitious thumping disco music. People were yelling, screaming, but Marianna just stood there. She didn't jump. She wasn't startled. She knew it would happen because she'd instructed him to do it.
    "You're such a buena chica !" Mario pulled her into his arms. "Did you see that? You've just committed murder. And look at you, all composed and relaxed, not a care in the world. You truly are perfect," he purred, hugging her as he whispered over her head.

Chapter One
    Jake King held his clipboard under his arm and pushed the door open with his shoulder. The blast of air conditioning hitting his body probably felt better than a much-needed fix would to a junkie. Jake almost sagged from the cool air as he traipsed into the office and kicked the door closed with his foot.
    "I'm grabbing a beer." He dropped his clipboard on one of two couches in the office and slipped out, heading into the living room before Natasha could respond. More than likely she gave him a scathing look, but he didn't check. He wasn't in the mood to hear how bad her day was. They were all overworked right now. At least she was overworked in air conditioning.
    Six years ago his father, Greg King, had retired from the LAPD and opened KFA, King Fugitive Apprehension. Greg's enthusiasm toward his new line of work was contagious and Jake, along with his older brother, Marc, signed on to the business almost immediately. There were no regrets, even on a day as hot as today and with the lowlifes of L.A. seeming to be crawling around worse than cockroaches.
    Jake headed to the refrigerator, glancing at the stack of mail on the kitchen table, and pulled out a longneck Budweiser. After popping the cap, he leaned against the counter and let the cold brew slide down his throat. God, it tasted good. He should sort through the mail. His parents were running as hard as he was and no one had time to keep up around the house.
    "Nothing better than a cold beer on a hot day," he announced, toasting Natasha when she appeared in the doorway.
    "You're not drinking and working and you aren't off the clock." She slipped around him, grabbed a water from the refrigerator, unscrewed the cap, and drank. She slipped her perfectly straight, silky black hair over her shoulder, leaned her head back, and downed a good half of the bottle. "Rita Fulsom is faxing over the details on two females," she said with her head still leaned back and her eyes closed.
    Natasha was one hell of a looker, and if she hadn't been raised more as his sister instead of his cousin he saw only once or twice a year he might be able to look at her for the incredibly seductive creature she was. Instead, acknowledging her good looks was about as far as it would ever go. He also saw her as intelligent, sometimes humorous, and lately a pain in his butt. "If I'm going to die in that heat out there at least let me chase some ladies."
    "You're such a slut," she muttered, turning her back to him and staring at the 13-inch set Haley King, Jake's mom, kept on the counter so she could watch TV while cooking. "Both women are in their fifties and jumped bail yesterday."
    "What are they wanted for?" He didn't really care. Anymore it seemed all the Kings' cases were the same. Idiots skipped out on court dates. Bondsmen called to have them chase down the idiots. Jake or his dad caught them. End of story. Ever since Jake's older brother had left the business to play house with his new girlfriend out in Colorado, Jake had felt the weight of the workload increase. Not that he would ever admit missing his brother. Marc was happy and that mattered, most of the time.
    "Shoplifting," Natasha told him, and tapped the Bluetooth in her ear. "KFA,"