Dangerous Kiss Read Free Page B

there, Munchkin. Mom says hi.”
    In a single motion, she jumped up and whipped around. Her brother Chris leaned against the doorframe. The youngest and smallest of her three brothers, Chris stood six feet tall but compensated with a tall, black cowboy hat.
    “No, Chris, you didn’t call Mom.” She groaned. “Why do all my brothers hate me?”
    The last thing she needed was her mom to descend into this chaos. Glenda Layton would fuss and flutter around, pouring coffee for the deputies while whispering to Claire that none of this would have happened if she were married. Her mother meant well, but her constant harping for her children to get hitched and provide her with grandchildren drove them all nuts. Glenda wouldn’t let a little detail like a murderer on the loose distract her from her life’s mission. Claire was sure of it.
    A look of mock innocence crossed Chris’ face. “Oh, we don’t hate you. We love to make your life hell. There’s a difference.”
    Claire wanted to smack her head on the desk. Or, better yet, his head. “So what did she say?”
    “Mom took it very well, I think. She said some words I didn’t even know she knew. She and Pop are steering the RV out of Texas and back home to support the sweet baby of the family. So, if Pop maintains his cruising speed of forty-five miles per hour, they should be here in about three years.” He didn’t even try to hide the grin.
    His sarcasm made her laugh. Tension drained away and her shoulder muscles loosened. Maybe all she needed to do to find the phone and flash drive was stop searching for them. That always worked when it came to finding her car keys. A quick cup of java downstairs and the answer would magically burst out of her subconscious. It would work. It had to.
    “That’s my Chris, always looking on the bright side. Come on, let’s go downstairs and get some coffee.”
    “Yeah, about downstairs…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared at the pine floor.
    Her trouble meter flashed out a warning, sending heat streaming through her body. On edge, she gave her brother the stink eye. Chris’ tone meant it could be anything from a coyote trapped in the kitchen to an angry mob protesting in front of the restaurant. Either way, it was bad news and she’d have to take care of it pronto.
    “There’s a dude downstairs sniffing around about what happened last night, and even if he is…”
    Who in the hell would be digging up dirt? Sure, gossip was the lifeblood of a small town, but still, there was a dead girl involved and even the most callous rumormonger would wait a few days out of respect for the dead.
    Maybe it wasn’t someone local. It could be a reporter. The girl could have been a student at Cather College. You had to be pretty well-to-do to afford the small, private school’s tuition. Maybe a reporter was hoping for a story that would boost his career to the big leagues.
    A hot flash seared her skin. Maybe it was the Voice of Doom.
    Panic danced on the edge of her thoughts. He’d said he’d call. Maybe the bastard had changed his mind? She opened her mouth to tell Chris, but a small voice warned her against it. What if it wasn’t the killer?
    There was only one way to find out. Claire marched out the door, intent on protecting her family.
    The upstairs dining room’s wall of windows had a great view of the revitalized downtown, including a 1940s-era movie theater. Usually Claire would slow down to admire the sight. Not today. She didn’t even pause when she whacked her hip on a table. Swallowing a yelp of pain, she quick-stepped down the wide staircase, rubbing her aching hip.
    Chris followed a few steps behind. “Claire, this guy is—”
    “I’m about to find out exactly who he is.”
    A smattering of customers munched away at the round tables on the first floor. She didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. Well, except for the sudden drop in conversation followed by an immediate rise in the whispering.
    Yeah,