Cold Sweat by J.S. Marlo Read Free Book Online Page B

and get caught. To think Norman could get one pregnant wasn’t much of a stretch.
    “Accidents can happen. I doubt the woman on the bridge was your only indiscretion.”
    “It was a friendly walk, Morgan. Are we done here?”
    “No, we’re not.” The senator might not care about the teenage girl, but Rich did. He proceeded quoting the email. “ Did you forget to get rid of her? Was she too precious? Her blood, like the blood of all the others, will be on your hands. Whose blood did you spill, Norman?”
    “That’s Senator Norman for you. And that’s character assassination. I won’t sit here and let you insult me with your despicable allegations while that man is trying to ruin my life. Get out and get him, or I’ll make sure your career as sheriff ends just as abruptly as your career as special agent did.”
    ***
    Once he returned to his cruiser, Rich called Eve on her cell phone. It rang. Once. Twice. Again. And again.
    Unless she was driving, Eve usually answered by the third ring. Rich had hoped to catch her before she headed for home. As he readied to terminate the call, huffing and panting resonated in his ear.
    “Eve? Is that you? Are you all right? Where are you?”
    “There’s a basketball bouncing on my bladder, Morgan.” Her breathing had decelerated to a low whooshing. “Where do you think I was?”
    The mental picture adequately answered his question. “Home or the office?”
    “Office.”
    Good, because he would have hated to disturb her at home. “I just had an aggravating discussion with the senator.”
    Aside from a few unsavory adjectives directed at Norman, Eve didn’t interrupt his account until he finished.
    “You believe him when he says he doesn’t have a teenage daughter?”
    “No, which is why I want you to dig into his personal finances. If he has other children, he’s probably paying for them.” If only to keep the mother—or mothers—quiet. “That teenage girl could live anywhere in the country or the world. You also want to cross reference with the girls reported missing in the last forty-eight hours.”
    “Do you have any idea how many kids go missing every day? It’s like searching for a pickle in a field of—never mind. Anything else?”
    “I’m going back to the training center. Make sure you go home at a decent hour for a change. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Chapter Seven
    Richmond’s split-level home offered a sharp contrast with the mansion in which Amelia had gotten lost searching for a bathroom.
    “This is cozy.” And unpretentious. His true personality shone throughout the house. The transformation mystified her.
    “I’m glad you approve.” With a sweep of his hand, he invited her to sit at the kitchen table. “Do you still like chili? I made a batch a few days ago. It should still be good.”
    Eating chili and fresh buns while watching sappy movies had once ranked among her favorite dates. “Chili is fine.”
    After he picked her up at Snowy Tip, Richmond had insisted she eat something, but she was already full. Full of worries. Hoping he’d drop her off at the sheriff’s office where her rental car was parked, she’d refused his invitation to go to a restaurant.
    I should have known better. The man was stubborn—that much hadn’t changed.
    “Would you please sit and pretend to work up an appetite?” He pulled out a bowl from the refrigerator. “I shouldn’t need to remind you that collapsing at my feet won’t help your daughter.”
    The remark whipped through the oppressive mist clouding her mind, dispersing a layer. “You need to work on your hospitality. That’s no way to treat a guest.”
    A fleeting shadow flew across his face. “I stopped entertaining guests a while ago.”
    “What about your parents?”
    He punched the start button on the microwave. The words floated between them, loud and ominous amidst the humming of the oven.
    Stirring the past served no purpose, but the last few days had weakened her emotional wall.