Murder in the River City by Allison Brennan Read Free Book Online Page A

went from confused to furious in three seconds flat. She strode over to the end of the bar, clearing the path in front of her with attitude, her long black skirt swirling around her gorgeous legs.
    He swallowed and smiled. Damn, he’d missed her.
    “Hello, Shauna,” he called out, knowing it would irritate her. She ignored him.
    It had taken him two years to realize Shauna was the only one who made him feel alive. Happy. He’d never acknowledged it—to her or himself—but two years in L.A. and he’d thought more about what might have been had he not been so damn noble.
    Dooley said she wasn’t dating anyone. He had a shot. If she could forgive him, not only for what happened with Jason Butler, but what happened the week before he went to L.A.
    He needed to kiss her again and see if what he felt then was as strong as what he remembered. Hell, he didn’t need to kiss her; one look and he knew.
    Shauna Murphy was the one.
    Shauna fumed the minute she spotted the man. She couldn’t believe it. Sam Garcia was sitting in her bar. Okay, it wasn’t actually her bar, it was her grandfather’s, but she wasn’t about to let him just waltz back into town like he’d only left yesterday. Who did he think he was?
    His black hair and olive complexion bespoke his Cuban father. His midnight blue eyes came directly from his Scottish mother. And his body—that came from working out regularly at the gym. She swallowed a hot flash, remembering how his muscles felt under her hands the one time she’d touched him out of desire—a desire he had refused. But not before he kissed her back, holding her tight, letting her know her feelings were mirrored in him.
    Somehow, that made it worse, knowing he could so easily walk away from her even when they had chemistry.
    He was too damn sexy for his own good.
    Shaking the thought from her mind, she closed her mouth and stormed over to Sam Garcia. Dooley stood only feet away. Then everything clicked.
    She didn’t address Sam. “It was you ,” she said to her grandfather.
    “I don’t know what—”
    “You called Sam. You don’t trust me.”
    “I trust ya, girl. I didn’t call Sam.”
    She didn’t believe him. “I can take care of myself.” She walked behind the bar, as much to put distance between her and Sam as to get herself a much-needed Guinness.
    I love you.
    She closed her eyes, remembering what she’d said to him two years ago. She’d been such a fool.
    She didn’t bother with building a proper Guinness. She poured and drank.
    “I’ll leave you two to talk.” Dooley scurried over to the opposite end of the bar. Shauna glared at his back. She loved her grandfather but would happily mix cayenne pepper into his denture cream right now.
    “Hello,” Sam said.
    She turned to face Sam Garcia. If only he’d turned gray, lost his hair, gained fifty pounds, or sprouted warts all over his sexy, square jaw. Or maybe, he was gay.
    “You’re not gay, are you?” she asked before she realized the thought left her mouth.
    He spit out his beer. “Hell no.”
    “Too bad.”
    He shook his head in confusion. “Shauna—I’m back.”
    “Really?” she said flatly. “I thought I was chatting with a ghost.”
    “I’m back with Sac PD.”
    “Gangs? Vice?”
    “Homicide.”
    Homicide? He was in homicide? That meant he knew John Black. He knew everything. Before she could say anything, he continued.
    “I heard you were at the station today.”
    What a disaster. The more she thought about the conversation with Detective Black, the more she realized he didn’t think her argument had merit. He’d placated her, tried to make her feel guilty for questioning his approach to the case. All she wanted was answers. Was that so hard?
    “That’s none of your business,” she snapped, still humiliated and angry at the information Black didn’t give her. Except Sam was a cop. He was back in Sacramento. On homicide.
    It was as if Sam could read her mind. “Slow down, Shauna. I’m not