Bombshell: A BWWM Billionaire Amnesia Romance Suspense Novel by Mia Caldwell Read Free Book Online Page B

him. Merrick wished he had his cell phone. Then he could text his half brother all the details of what he’d do to him if he dared to say anything to Mama G about the fake engagement.

Chapter Six
    Sheriff Harold Buck got out of the shower and put on his uniform. He went into the kitchen and filled a plastic tumbler with ice. Unscrewing the top from a bottle of Smirnoff, he poured until the liquid was almost to the top. After grabbing a bottle of canned grapefruit juice and topping off his breakfast with some vitamin C, he sat down at the table and readied his gun for the daily cleaning. He stopped before taking the cloth to it, and stared at the fouling dusted along the barrel. He looked inside the barrel and saw more evidence that the gun had been recently fired.
    He put the gun down and rubbed his temple, trying to remember when and where he’d used his gun. A growl in his stomach made him forget about the gun.
    “Jana,” he yelled towards the back of the house. “Make me some breakfast.”
    But Jana didn’t respond. And he remembered. He got up, taking his drink with him, walked across his pristine living room, and opened the door to the guest room. All her things were still there, so where was she? Then he remembered. She’d left him. She’d – left – him!
    Harold’s jaw clenched. He downed the rest of the liquid, then threw the glass against the wall. The motion made him groan as he felt something ache in his chest. His face hurt as well. He walked back to his bathroom and examined his face. When had he gotten in a fight? His nose was swollen –  not broken, but badly bruised. He lifted his shirt and saw an ugly bruises blooming under his rib cage. He thought about the gun that had been recently fired. Had he killed someone?
    He went back to the living room and cleaned up the broken glass, picking up the ice cubes melting on his carpet. He picked up the phone and called in to dispatch.
    “How are things, Heidi?” he asked.
    “All’s well,” she answered, but there was something in her voice that belied her cheery disposition.
    After wiping down the water spots in the sink and putting away his liquor, he retrieved several trash bags and a large rock from the backyard. He wiped the fingerprints off his service revolver and emptied the chamber. Placing the gun in one of the bags, he rolled the bag around it, then secured it with duct tape. Then he placed that bundle into another black trash bag and this time added the heavy rock. He put on his equipment belt and put his spare Glock in the holster.
    On the way to work, he pulled off the main road and drove until he came to a bridge. The creek below it ran deep and fast. No one would see the gun if he could get it between the rocks. He tossed it in and watched it disappear. He regretted losing the Sig, but something told him he’d done something stupid the night before.
    On his way to the sheriff’s office, he called Fletcher, and told him to meet him at the Well Service store. They arrived at the same time and Fletcher took point outside, keeping watch and deterring other customers from stopping by for a chat about their wells.
    “Sheriff!” the owner’s wife looked alarmed as Harold strolled into the showroom. She got up from the reception desk and hurried into a back room. Sheriff Buck waited patiently.
    The woman’s husband appeared a moment later. “Sheriff Buck,” he said nervously.
    The sheriff walked over to the wall and ran his forefinger over the line of family photos on the wall – all of them showing the owner’s happy children at various stages of their development. As he brushed his finger against each picture, he made a point to put each one off balance.
    “I’m disappointed in you, Pete,” Harold said, without looking at the small business owner. “It would be a shame if something bad happened to your source of livelihood, just because you couldn’t remember to pay for insurance. I thought you cared about your family more than