Read Temperature's Rising for Free Online Page A

orchestrated.”
    He tossed the folder across his desk. Conor leaned forward and picked it up, flipping through the pages. “What do you mean?”
    “Winston’s not stupid, but he’s also not smart enough to plan these burglaries. He’s getting inside information when the victims are going to be away from home—the layout of the houses. That sort of thing.” Conor turned the next sheet of paper and paused, staring at the picture of a flashy young man.
    “The youngest son, George,” he supplied. “He’s thirty and recently married.” The chief stood and came around the desk.
    “Is this guy for real?” George looked like something out of a bad Mafia film. The side-view picture showed slicked back hair pulled into a thin ponytail, pale skin, and a cocky expression.
    “He’s a piece of work, isn’t he? I arrested him a few times when I was still working a beat. He was just a kid back then. Fourteen or fifteen. Not too bright. I remember once George tried to break into a house through the 40
    Karen Kelley
    doggy door. He took off all his clothes and greased himself down. Used half a can of Crisco. George made it halfway through before getting stuck. I’d love to have seen the expressions on the homeowners’ faces when they returned that evening.”
    “Talk about a full moon.” Conor chuckled.
    “That’s George.” The chief laughed. “About the time he turned eighteen he began telling everyone he was Italian. A social worker once told me his mother was American, though. She dumped him on his father’s doorstep when he was about six. As far as I know, she’s never contacted him.” He perched on a corner of his desk, crossing his arms in front of him.
    Conor flipped to the next picture. “And this one, I suppose, is his brother.”
    The chief nodded. “Barry. He’s thirty-six. The oldest.
    As mean as his old man. He’s already had a stint in the joint. Stole a car before he turned fifteen. After that, he’d hit liquor stores. Convenience stores. Penny-ante stuff until now. Gut feeling tells me he’s graduated.” The older brother had the same wiry build as George, but that’s where the similarity ended. His beady eyes held a calculating gleam.
    He went to the next picture. “The father?”
    “Dear old Dad. Meaner than a two-headed rattlesnake and built like a bulldozer. Only thing, the elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top. You wouldn’t want to turn your back on that one.”
    Conor closed the file. “I assume you have a plan?”
    “We’re sending in a surveillance team. They’ll act as a newly married couple, something in common with George and his bride.”
    “Surveillance?” His eyebrows rose.
    “I’d thought about giving the assignment to Marty and Angie. It won’t be the first time they’ve pretended to be married. There’s a house next door to the Merediths TEMPERATURE’S RISING
    41
    that’s unoccupied and up for sale. We’ll have them go through all the motions of renting and moving in. But you know . . .” The chief scratched his chin thoughtfully. “This would be just the right assignment for you instead of Marty. In fact, you might even call it fate.” Conor looked gratefully toward the chief, but his smile faltered when he saw the speculative gleam in the corner of the older man’s eyes. An uneasy premonition stole over him. The chief said it might be fate, but something told Conor he’d better move forward cautiously.
    Now he was being paranoid. He shook the feeling off.
    Sure, he’d guessed the chief would like to hook him up with Jessica, but what could he actually do? Handcuff him to her? That wouldn’t happen. At least, not in Conor’s lifetime.

    Chapter 4
    Jessica pulled her red Mustang convertible into her father’s driveway. Something about coming home made her all soft and satisfied on the inside.
    It didn’t matter how often she visited. She’d grown up in this house, played with her brother’s toy trucks and plastic guns under the big oak