Savannah's Curse Read Free

hire someone?”
    â€œTo do what? Tell him if he finds the killer, we want him killed. I’m not trying to spend a day behind bars,” Asia snapped.
    â€œBoth of you need to chill out. No one’s going to jail.” Savannah looked at Montana. “And we’re going to find the killer ourselves.”
    Montana still didn’t sound convinced. “Let’s take a vote,” she said.
    â€œNo need. I’m with Savannah. Dad would do the same for us,” Asia responded.
    â€œShould have known you would side with her,” Montana mumbled.
    Savannah ignored her. “Now that it’s settled, I’ve printed out duplicate copies of information that you’ll need to know.” She handed them each some papers containing her notes on possible suspects. “Don’t let this out of your sight. Review them and meet me back here tomorrow night.”
    Savannah watched them as they scanned the papers. She normally wouldn’t put them in this situation, but there was no way she could live with herself if she didn’t exhaust all avenues to locate their father’s killer. “Dad was our protector, but some people might not like us digging into his murder. We need to take some precautions.”
    â€œWhat’s this?” Montana asked as Savannah went to hand her a .38 Special, fully loaded.
    Asia took her gun and inspected it. “I know you haven’t forgotten how to shoot. ‘Ms. think she can shoot better than me,’” Asia stated.
    Savannah ignored Asia. “This is from Dad’s collection. I know you don’t like guns, but with everything that has happened, I think it’s best.”
    Reluctantly Montana took the weapon and placed it in her purse.
    A short time later, Savannah watched from the living-room window as her sisters entered their cars and left to go home. Due to it being quiet in the house, Savannah’s body jerked at the sounds of the floor creaking near her. She didn’t have any pets, so the creak had to mean one thing—an intruder had invaded her space. She could see someone in her peripheral vision. Savannah’s natural instinct kicked in. With a quick, effortless spin around, she used some of her martial arts skills and ducked and did a sly kick, causing her surprise guest to fumble. With another move she had the culprit on the floor. She straddled his back, holding both of his arms. If she moved his left arm a few more inches, it would snap.
    â€œWait. I’m here to help,” the somewhat-familiar voice of the strange man said between clenched teeth.
    â€œWho are you?” Savannah asked.
    â€œLet me up and I’ll tell you.”
    Savannah tightened her grip. “Wrong answer.”
    â€œOuch. I’m Bridges.”
    â€œName doesn’t sound familiar.”
    â€œI’m a friend of your father’s.”
    Savannah wasn’t sure if she could trust him. His words made her recall her father mentioning the name Bridges on his dying breath. She used her free hand and scratched the back of her head.
    â€œI don’t mean to sound like I’m complaining, but you have a mean grip on my arm, and it’s hurting,” the man said.
    Savannah’s surprise guest’s voice did sound familiar. He also wore a familiar scent. It reminded her of the cologne her ex-boyfriend wore—Unforgivable. Bridges sneaking into her house uninvited was unforgivable. The urge to run her hands over his smooth, bald brown head left as quickly as it had come. She shook her head. What was she thinking? This man could be working with the man who killed her dad. She released both arms and moved her 150-pound frame from the top of his back.
    As he stood up, she got a good look at the guy who called himself Bridges. His muscular build was no match for a woman who was trained to take men down three times her size. His cream-colored shirt and khaki pants were a little wrinkled from the attack. Bridges