Night Whispers Read Free Page A

one of Bell Harbor 's founding citizens, and one of its richest. "There's a fantastic potential client, just waiting for your excellent advice. She's cranky, though. And very demanding."
    "Fortunately, I am very patient and very flexible," Sara said, and Sloan smothered a laugh as Sara broke into a run, angling to the left toward her tent. Sloan smoothed her hair into its ponytail, checked to make certain her white knit shirt was tucked neatly into the waistband of her khaki shorts, and angled to the right, toward the police department's tent.
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    C aptain Roy Ingersoll was standing at the table outside their tent, talking to Matt Caruso and Jess Jessup, whom she was due to relieve for lunch. Jess grinned when he saw her, Ingersoll glared at her, and Caruso, who was a spineless phony, automatically mimicked Jess's smile, then checked to see Ingersoll's expression and quickly switched to a glare.
    Normally, Sloan found something to like in nearly everyone, but she had a difficult time doing that with Caruso, who was not only a phony but Ingersoll's full-time snitch. At thirty-three, Caruso was already sixty pounds overweight, with a round, pasty face, thinning hair, and a tendency to sweat profusely if Ingersoll so much as frowned at him.
    Ingersoll launched into a diatribe as soon as she reached him. "I realize that doing your job here isn't as important to you as performing heroic feats in front of an adoring crowd," he sneered, "but Lieutenant Caruso and I have been waiting to go to lunch. Do you think you could sit here for half an hour so we could eat?"
    Sometimes, his barbs really wounded, frequently they stung, but his latest criticism was so silly and unjust that he seemed more like a cranky child with gray hair and a beer belly than the heartless tyrant he frequently was. "Take your time," Sloan said magnanimously. "I'm on duty for the next hour."
    Having failed to evoke a response from her, he spun on his heel, but as he stepped away, he fired one more insulting remark over his shoulder. "Try not to mess up anything while we're gone, Reynolds."
    This time, his taunt embarrassed and irritated her because several people who were walking by heard what he said and because Caruso smirked at her. She waited until they were a few paces away; then she called out cheerfully, "Try the chili! Everyone says it's great." She remembered what Sara had said about the challenge of hot chili to men, and although Sara's notion had seemed completely inane at the time, Sara was an unquestioned authority on men and male behavior. "You'd better stay away from it if you can't handle jalapeño peppers, though!" she added, raising her voice a little to reach them.
    The two men turned long enough to give her identical smirks of confident male superiority; then they headed directly for Pete Salinas's chili stand.
    Sloan bent her head to hide her smile and began straightening up the stacks of brochures on neighborhood-watch groups, civil service employment opportunities, and on the new self-defense classes for women being taught at city hall.
    Beside her, Jess Jessup watched Ingersoll and Caruso until they vanished into the crowd. "What a perfect pair. Ingersoll's an egotist and Caruso is a sycophant."
    Privately Sloan agreed with him, but she automatically chose to soothe a difficult situation rather than make it more inflammatory. "Ingersoll's a good cop, though. You have to give him credit for that."
    "You're a damned good cop and he doesn't give
you
any credit," Jess countered.
    "He doesn't give
anyone
any credit," Sloan pointed out, refusing to let the discussion threaten the relaxed mood of the balmy afternoon.
    "Unless he happens to like them," Jess argued irritably.
    Sloan shot him an irrepressible grin. "Who does he like?"
    Jess thought for a moment; then he chuckled. "No one," he admitted. "He doesn't like anyone."
    They lapsed into comfortable silence, watching the crowd, returning friendly nods and smiles from people they