The Seven: A Taste for Jazz: Book 3 of The Seven series Read Free Page B

great room, admiring the furnishings, the enormous flat-screen television mounted on one wall, and the clean white tile of the kitchen and dinette, separated from the living area by a long granite-covered wet bar.
    She slid open one of the massive glass doors and stepped outside onto a large covered lanai. Deeply padded wicker furniture sat beneath an enormous umbrella. Beyond was a sparkling pool with an unusual squat fountain, dumping a vertical line of water into the pool.
    Massive palms and tropical plants she couldn't even begin to name bordered the paved patio in an interior planter. A towering metal and screen enclosure arched over the entire expanse of the pool, offering protection from pesky insects.
    Surrounding the pool outside of the enclosure was a tropical garden that sloped down to meet a wide golf fairway.
    "Wow." Stanzia had certainly hooked her up in the housing department. She'd never expected anything so luxurious.
    Which had her taking a look at herself. She sure as hell didn't fit in with her black latex suit, boots and weapons.
    She returned inside to explore the rest of the house, discovering a master bedroom suite with French doors that led out onto the pool patio, and large enough to house the king-size metal canopy bed and flanking nightstands, along with a couch, loveseat, tables and another large, flat-screen television in a custom wood cabinet.
    Jazz couldn't resist lying back on the bed. "Oh baby," she crooned appreciatively. How she'd love to have a big hard body to romp with on this mattress.
    Pushing aside thoughts of hot sex and sweaty bodies, she wandered into the master bath to discover what was surely every woman's fantasy. Two enormous walk-in closets formed the hallway to tiled paradise, with one of the largest tubs she'd ever seen, a huge walk-in shower and a frosted glass window dominating the wall beside the tub.
    She retraced her steps to the closets, and opened the doors of one. Larger than her bedroom at home, the racked were filled with clothes, shoes, accessories, even a large lighted cabinet in the center of the room containing an assortment of jewelry.
    Jazz flipped through the clothes hanging on the racks. All her size. And all in colors and styles she would have chosen for herself. She shook her head in amazement. How had Stanzia accomplished this?
    She crossed through the house to the front door and walked outside. Several flyers lay on the welcome mat. She picked them up, intending on tossing them. But one caught her eye, advertising a special running at a local gym.
    Having a place to work out was one of Jazz's requirements in life. In her line of work, staying in good shape was mandatory. She returned inside, tossed all but the flyer advertising the gym into the trash can and pulled out her cell phone to dial the number listed.
    A gravely male voice answered. "Nash's Gym."
    "Hi. I found this flyer on my door and wondered if the rate is still good?"
    "Yep."
    "Okay, thanks."She hung up the phone and leaned back against the counter, considering her next move. That's when she spotted the large envelope with her name in flowing script on the center island.
    She tore it open and emptied out the contents. House key, car key, a vehicle key, her own identification, credit cards she'd never applied for and a wad of cash.
    Leaving the items on the counter, she headed for the bathroom, where she stripped down, showered and went through the closet. She found a pair of tight bike shorts, a matching tank top with good support, socks, shoes and even a gym bag. With everything she needed at her disposal, she figured she might as well go check out the gym and workout. After that she'd cruise around and see if her "sense" picked up a trail on the dweeb.
    She packed a change of clothes—low slung jeans and crop top—and tossed some toiletry items into the bag. A leather wallet caught her eye, so she grabbed it and headed for the kitchen where she put the driver's license, credit cards and