any time for a serious love interest. He gathered the coffee mugs and headed for the kitchen, loading them in the dishwasher. Then he continued on to the front door, before he gave in to the sappy impulse of crushing Breeana against him. He must be going soft in the head.
“I’ll let you get some rest.”
She followed him to the entrance and placed a restraining hand on his arm. Electricity zapped him like a Taser. She dropped her hand in one hell of a hurry. Too late, his body had already responded to her touch. He was human, after all.
“Lieutenant, do you think Miranda’s and Rainey’s deaths are connected?”
He wanted to lie, but he had already started thinking along those same lines. She needed to be careful. “It’s too soon to tell. Just be sure to lock up behind me and don’t answer the door unless you know who’s standing on the other side. And the name’s Sully, remember?”
He slid a business card from his jacket pocket and placed it on the entryway table. “Call me anytime, day or night, if you feel anxious for any reason, or if you think of anything you forgot to tell me.”
“Lieutenant…Sully…right, I will. Thank you.”
Sully left her house with his groin cramping. He climbed into his unmarked and started the engine, disgusted with himself. After all, he’d gone into the vet’s house with questions about a murder and come out with a probable second murder on his hands.
He had more than enough to keep him busy without getting hot and bothered. Sure, he enjoyed his fair share of women—okay, maybe more than his fair share—but without strings attached. And he never got involved with a witness. Damn sure if he nibbled on this one, he’d be hooked by the bait.
Chapter Three
Breeana went to bed late, chewing on Sully’s questions about her friends. At three a.m., the phone rang, cutting into a restless sleep. Her heavy breather was on the other end of the line, the same hymn blaring in the background. What’s the matter with this idiot?
“Listen, you creep. It’s been a lot of years since I was afraid of a man playing with himself while he breathes in my ear. Shove off!”
The line went dead.
Morning broke early. The dogs saw to it, bouncing to greet each other and the new dawn. Sun barely flushed the horizon when Breeana crawled out of bed. Sleep had eluded her since the pain-in-the-butt phone call. She felt drugged from the lack of it. With a sigh, she pulled on her running gear. Time to shake it off.
Cranking out a steady pace, she took the dogs for a brisk walk down by the lake, keeping a close eye on Bruiser’s ability to keep up. He seemed to be doing better today. Sunrise held the promise of a clear day, the air crisp and clean, a faint breeze dissolving fingers of mist above the water. She tried to find comfort in the beauty around her and not dwell on thoughts of murder. She was convinced the same maniac had killed both Miranda and Rainey.
There were no signs of life as she passed neighboring houses, only the symphony of birds taking flight and an occasional boat trolling out in the bay. A flock of ducks, late heading north, rested in the reeds. The dogs charged through marsh grasses to roust them, returning to the beach dripping mud and slime.
Breeana played fetch when she arrived back on her property. The dogs dove from the dock to catch sticks; silt and debris shaking loose from their coats as they swam.
Back inside, she put on a pot of coffee before heading for the shower. It was now or never. There would be no hot water once Cody took over. Not a morning person, his daily routine was to stagger to the bathroom and brace himself against the shower stall until the water pressure pelted him back to life. A thirty minute resuscitation, she could set her watch by him.
An hour later, Cody’s summer hockey team practiced on the ice while Breeana nursed a coffee in the stands. It was hard for her to believe only a day had passed since the discovery of Rainey’s
“I’ll let you get some rest.”
She followed him to the entrance and placed a restraining hand on his arm. Electricity zapped him like a Taser. She dropped her hand in one hell of a hurry. Too late, his body had already responded to her touch. He was human, after all.
“Lieutenant, do you think Miranda’s and Rainey’s deaths are connected?”
He wanted to lie, but he had already started thinking along those same lines. She needed to be careful. “It’s too soon to tell. Just be sure to lock up behind me and don’t answer the door unless you know who’s standing on the other side. And the name’s Sully, remember?”
He slid a business card from his jacket pocket and placed it on the entryway table. “Call me anytime, day or night, if you feel anxious for any reason, or if you think of anything you forgot to tell me.”
“Lieutenant…Sully…right, I will. Thank you.”
Sully left her house with his groin cramping. He climbed into his unmarked and started the engine, disgusted with himself. After all, he’d gone into the vet’s house with questions about a murder and come out with a probable second murder on his hands.
He had more than enough to keep him busy without getting hot and bothered. Sure, he enjoyed his fair share of women—okay, maybe more than his fair share—but without strings attached. And he never got involved with a witness. Damn sure if he nibbled on this one, he’d be hooked by the bait.
Chapter Three
Breeana went to bed late, chewing on Sully’s questions about her friends. At three a.m., the phone rang, cutting into a restless sleep. Her heavy breather was on the other end of the line, the same hymn blaring in the background. What’s the matter with this idiot?
“Listen, you creep. It’s been a lot of years since I was afraid of a man playing with himself while he breathes in my ear. Shove off!”
The line went dead.
Morning broke early. The dogs saw to it, bouncing to greet each other and the new dawn. Sun barely flushed the horizon when Breeana crawled out of bed. Sleep had eluded her since the pain-in-the-butt phone call. She felt drugged from the lack of it. With a sigh, she pulled on her running gear. Time to shake it off.
Cranking out a steady pace, she took the dogs for a brisk walk down by the lake, keeping a close eye on Bruiser’s ability to keep up. He seemed to be doing better today. Sunrise held the promise of a clear day, the air crisp and clean, a faint breeze dissolving fingers of mist above the water. She tried to find comfort in the beauty around her and not dwell on thoughts of murder. She was convinced the same maniac had killed both Miranda and Rainey.
There were no signs of life as she passed neighboring houses, only the symphony of birds taking flight and an occasional boat trolling out in the bay. A flock of ducks, late heading north, rested in the reeds. The dogs charged through marsh grasses to roust them, returning to the beach dripping mud and slime.
Breeana played fetch when she arrived back on her property. The dogs dove from the dock to catch sticks; silt and debris shaking loose from their coats as they swam.
Back inside, she put on a pot of coffee before heading for the shower. It was now or never. There would be no hot water once Cody took over. Not a morning person, his daily routine was to stagger to the bathroom and brace himself against the shower stall until the water pressure pelted him back to life. A thirty minute resuscitation, she could set her watch by him.
An hour later, Cody’s summer hockey team practiced on the ice while Breeana nursed a coffee in the stands. It was hard for her to believe only a day had passed since the discovery of Rainey’s
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