Lover's Bite by MAGGIE SHAYNE Read Free Book Online

life?”
    â€œYeah.” She gathered her papers, shuffling through to the photos, and laid them out one by one. “The police seem to have focused on the men she was rumored to have been sleeping with in the year prior to her death.”
    â€œIncluding your father?” he asked.
    She lowered her eyes, shielding them. “I don’t know which of them is my father. There were a couple whose blood types made it possible, but there was no DNA testing back then, so the courts awarded me to the one they felt was most likely to provide a stable home.” She picked out a five-by-seven black-and-white photo of the man who’d raised her, taken back in his younger days. “Thomas Martin, businessman.”
    â€œWhat kind of business?”
    â€œMostly government contracts. He owns several manufacturing plants. They make weapons.”
    Jack looked up quickly. “He’s an arms dealer?”
    â€œYeah. And according to the cops, there were rumors he wasn’t too fussy about who bought his products. But no one could ever find proof he sold weapons to unapproved nations.”
    â€œUnless maybe your mom stumbled onto some.”
    â€œYeah. That would give him a motive.”
    â€œHe raised you?”
    She nodded. “He and his series of wives. He got older. When his women did, too, he just traded them in for newer models. And I do mean models.”
    â€œWas he good to you?”
    She glanced at him briefly, and he saw a flash of something—pain?—in her eyes, but she averted them so quickly that he couldn’t be sure. He guessed the answer was no. Which made him wonder just how “not good” the man’s treatment of her had been. Had he just been cold and uncaring, or something more? The notion sent a darkness through him.
    She laid out the next photo. “Frederick Ramirez, state senator.”
    â€œCorrupt?” Jack asked.
    â€œHe accepted exorbitant campaign contributions from a reputed mob boss—Tony Bonacelli.” She pulled another photo from a folder. “Interestingly enough, he was also sleeping with my mother. Or at least that was the gossip.”
    â€œWas the mob boss a suspect, too?” Jack asked.
    â€œHe was cleared early on. Airtight alibi.”
    â€œHe could have had someone else do it for him.”
    â€œThere was no evidence of it, though. If he did, he covered his tracks very well. Or maybe he had the cops on his payroll. Who knows?”
    Jack whistled softly under his breath, then glanced at the one remaining photo in her hand. “And our final contestant?”
    â€œWayne Clark Duncan.” She laid the photo down. The man was stunningly attractive, the shot unmistakably professional, even without the autograph scrawled in the corner. “Actor,” she said.
    â€œI could have guessed.” He frowned. “But not one I’ve heard of.”
    â€œNo, neither have I. And while he was questioned, there’s nothing in the police reports about a possible motive. He’s probably the least likely to have killed her.”
    â€œThose are the ones to watch out for,” Jack said, and sighed. “So what’s your plan? You want to talk to each of these guys, see what they have to say?”
    â€œYeah, later. First, though, I want to talk to Rebecca Murphy. She was my mother’s agent and lawyer. I think she might know more than anyone—if she’s even still alive.”
    He nodded. “Good place to start. You have any idea where we can find her?”
    â€œAs luck would have it, she’s in the book. Or at least, someone with the same name is. I was just about to call when you arrived.” She reached for her cell phone, flipped it open and frowned. “Damn. I had it on vibrate. Got a voice mail, just a sec.” She hit a button. “It’s from Reaper.”
    â€œPut it on speaker,” Jack said. “I want to know how things are going, too.”
    With