Every Breath You Take: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 2)

Every Breath You Take: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 2) by M.K. Gilroy Read Free Book Online

Book: Every Breath You Take: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 2) by M.K. Gilroy Read Free Book Online
Authors: M.K. Gilroy
Tags: thriller, Suspense, Mystery
officially forgotten. Forever. The apple strudel guy makes a beeline in her direction in case the barista behind the counter jump overs and gets to her first to offer a sample of their new blonde roast. I laugh. How does Klarissa do it? She doesn’t walk into rooms. She makes an entrance.
    • • •
    “Like I said, I don’t start until Monday, so I just stopped by the office for ten minutes yesterday. I have no clue what’s going on,” I say to Klarissa.
    I ended up buying a piece of the coffee cake. Klarissa has been sipping on a tall skinny soy latte with nutmeg sprinkles for the last thirty-five minutes and has drained at least an inch and a half off the top. I’m thankful she didn’t get the coffee cake or we would be here all day. Although, unlike me, she does share her food. Since she eats slower and less in quantity than any other human being I know, I would have eaten both pieces.
    “So you really don’t know if the Second got the Durham murder. You’re not just holding out on me?”
    “I’m not holding out but even if I knew anything, we’ve already covered this. I’m not feeding you inside information.”
    “Tell me something I don’t already know.”
    “You’ll have to get your scoops the old fashioned way and bribe somebody else on the force.”
    “We don’t use the word bribe ,” she says primly.
    Then we both laugh. We’ve had this discussion a couple hundred times. She’s in news and I’m in law enforcement. I’ve let her know that if I was the type of lowlife government employee that broke my vows of confidentiality she would be the first I would blab and sell my soul to—but not to hold her breath waiting. That’s good enough for her. The promise of being first.
    She sometimes knows what’s going on before I do. I’ve never had the desire or nerve to ask her if she really is paying CPD officers for news leads.
    Dad did thirty years on the force before he was shot. When I told him I was applying for a job on the force after college, the first thing he told me was to keep my nose clean, that there were too many dirty cops. He said the first time you take a favor it will feel innocent, but that’s how the bad guys get their hooks in you. I’ve kept my nose clean—not even a free cup of coffee from Dunkin Donuts, which seems to be a standing offer for CPD. Of course it might be a marketing strategy where coffee is a loss leader so they can make their profits on the boxes of donuts that are always in the office.
    “So are your Snowflakes gonna stomp somebody today Coach Butkus?”
    I roll my eyes and answer, “Butkus was never a coach. You meant to call me Coach Ditka.”
    “How could I have messed that up? So you all going to win?”
    “With our niece playing, we always have a shot.”
    “What are you going to do if she loses interest in sports and takes up something foreign to you like school work or music or boys?”
    I look at her in horror and she laughs at me.
    “No right-footed kid that can hit a left cross like she can will be allowed to quit,” I say. “If I have any say in it.”
    “I’m sure you will.”
    I look at my watch, hop up, gather trash, and put it in the receptacle. Klarissa loops an arm in mine and we exit JavaStar like best friends. We didn’t talk about anything important and we’re doing fine. Maybe Dad was at least partially right on not overanalyzing and overtalking everything. On this occasion he would be one hundred-percent right. Not everything needs to be talked through. We seem to like each other. Good. One less thing to worry about. If I kept a list of my unresolved issues in life, I would put a check mark next to this one.
    Time to hit the soccer fields.
    • • •
    The tan rag top is down on my shiny black Miata. I run through the gears fast and hit the first lane of the Cross City Expressway at seventy. My world is in order and I’m at peace. I’m already unpacked and my laundry is done from my time in D.C. Klarissa is on-air

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