Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 01 - The Day Job is Murder by Carolyn Arnold Read Free Book Online

rang to voice mail. She tried again and met with the same result, so she hung up without leaving a message.
    “Hmm. That’s strange.”

    She’d have to keep going about this alone and fill him in later.

 

     
    The Dream
     
    SEAN WASN’T JUST A RICH man—he was an extremely wealthy one.
    It was repayment for one kind act, hinging back to that convenience store, from over a decade ago. Talk about the ripple effect.
    Quinn’s letter said to “find love.” He already knew who he needed in his life, and now, thanks to the old man, he’d make it happen.
    He walked out of the lawyer’s office, with the chest tucked under an arm, his newfound wealth providing a bounce to his gait. Life had been flipped upside down. Anything that had troubled him before, he now had the means to eradicate.
    He would make it so Sara couldn’t say no. It was now up to him to dig into his repressed romantic side and sway her over.
    He set the chest on the passenger seat and his cell rang. He checked the caller ID and, when he saw it was Sara, sent it to voice mail. He couldn’t talk to her yet. He had to get things in order first.
    He tucked the phone in the console, his attention diverting to the chest. He didn’t open it in front of the lawyers—should he now?
    He resisted the urge. He was going to take care of something else first, but with each stoplight, his eyes drifted to it.
    Crazy, it was probably handkerchiefs.
    His mind was torn between the chest and winning Sara’s heart, but the latter gained victory.
    He merged back into traffic. His thoughts centered on popular chic flicks— When Harry Met Sally…, Sleepless in Seattle, Shall we Dance?, The Notebook, You’ve Got Mail, Pretty Woman, The Titanic , and let’s not discount their all-time favorite, An Affair to Remember .
    Girls loved large romantic gestures.
    It might have helped if he had watched most of these movies. Of the ones he did know, they didn’t fit his circumstances. There wasn’t any secrecy. They had reciprocal feelings. While he could now carry off the role of the wealthy businessman, Edward Lewis, in Pretty Woman , Sara was no Vivian Ward. There would be no sinking ship, no escalator to ride up, wearing a tuxedo while clutching a single rose to his chest, and there was no Empire State Building in Albany, New York.
    To sum it up, the line from Jerry Maguire fit best. “You had me at hello.” That was exactly how he felt about Sara.
    And despite having the means to buy her anything she dreamed of, she was down to earth and found happiness in simple things—but maybe it was because she was accustomed to that?
    He’d figure something out.

     
    The clock read four fifteen when he pulled into the station parking lot.
    He found Sara at her desk, slumped forward, her hand to her forehead. She looked up when she must have heard him approach.
    “Where have you been?” Despite her obvious attempts at being cross, there was a hint of happiness in her eyes.
    “I had that appointment. You knew about it.” He smiled at her. He was so nervous he feared his next breath wouldn’t come.
    “Yes, how did it go? I tried to reach you a few times.”
    He had to act now or drown in emotions. “Please, put your coat on, Sara. Trust me.”
    “Sean, what are you doing? Don’t you want to know why I was trying to reach you?”
    There was a tinge of rejection and hurt in her voice. He took a deep breath.
    “I apologize.”
    She nodded. “I believe we’ve found Mr. Cunningham’s killer.”
    “Good, good.”
    “Sean, don’t you want to know more?”
    “Sure, yes, of course. Continue.”
    “We figured it was a case of mistaken identity, and we were leaning toward an addict looking to score drugs—well, that wasn’t the case.” She filled him in on her day. “It stood to reason, he wasn’t there for that purpose because he had drugs already. It turns out he was hired by a rival drug dealer to kill Eddie. Eddie’s one street over from Cunningham, same house