Dirty Read Free

off.   Narrowed everything into instant, crystal clear focus.
    “Look, Jackie,” he said gently, his face the perfect mask of genuine affection in spite of the suspicions no doubt taking root, “if it bothers you that much, you don’t have to tell me.”   He traced a finger down my arm, eliciting a shiver in spite of my surge of irritation and absolute determination not to react.   “I’m perfectly content with things just as they are.”
    Damn.   That was sweet.   “Actually,” I countered, “I do.”   I swung my weapon into position, my aim automatically zeroing in center torso.   Disbelief registered briefly in his eyes.   “Have to tell you that is,” I explained flatly.   “I’m a private investigator who does a little bounty hunting on the side.   And your ass is mine, darlin’.”
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    Sour sweat, bad coffee and stale smoke.
    Houston Police Department’s Central Processing always smelled that way.   No matter what time of year, no matter how heavy or light the number of reluctant guests.   Maybe it was because most of the detainees were male and either flat out nasty, perspiring profusely or both.   The stagnant aroma reminded me of the boys’ locker room back in high school.
    Not that I thought boys were stinky or that I spent that much time in forbidden male territory but there was that one senior who had made my ripening freshmen hormones fizz like a shaken bottle of Double Cola.   Apparently I wasn’t any smarter about men back then either.   Otherwise I wouldn’t have lost my virginity on a battered wooden bench surrounded by dented metal lockers and abandoned football gear.
    O-kay...enough with the stroll down memory lane.
    I ignored the leers sent my way by a couple of the social misfits draped against the bars of their cages.   Freshly apprehended perps generally fell into two categories.   The ogling slugs who knew the routine well enough to be bored and the quivering first-timers huddled in the far corners fearing for their very survival.
    Ken Willis refused to fit into either slot.   He’d shut down like going-home traffic at five o’clock on Friday, uttered not a single word to me after I identified myself.   All emotion had blanked from his face.   He’d merely pulled on his clothes as I ordered, then offered his wrists for the Tuff-Tie cuffs I dredged up from the bottom of my Birkin.
    Sounds kinky, I know.   But carrying around the essentials like a gun, cell phone, hand restraints, as well as pepper spray and a Tazer, is part of the job.   Just like a Girl Scout...always prepared.   Too bad I’d missed out on the merit badge for recognizing creeps posing as Prince Charming.
    I paused at the processing desk long enough to collect a body receipt for the fugitive I’d just turned over and produced a smile for the uniform on duty.   “Thanks.”
    “Chief Cates wants to see you upstairs,” the sergeant told me without actually looking up and definitely sans any suggestion of a return smile.   This guy had evidently skipped the class on public relations or maybe someone besides me woke up in the wrong bed this morning.   Still, I muttered another thanks and moved on.
    I didn’t bother with the stairs since I’d already had my aerobic workout for the day, took the elevator to the third floor instead.   Besides, I didn’t want to risk scuffing one of my heels.   This is the only pair of Christian Louboutins I own and only by virtue of the fact that a former client had used the like new designer shoes for her retainer fee.   I protected them at all costs.   Anything I own in the way of designer icing, like the cherished Hermes Birkin bag, I gained that way.   I’m a woman, I can’t help myself.   We all need a little pampering now and again.
    I didn’t like this little detour.   Getting called into the chief’s office usually meant I’d encroached on someone else’s territory or otherwise overstepped my bounds as