Operation Burlesque BBW Romance by Michelle Fox Read Free Book Online Page A

bunked together. Thinking of her reminded me I hadn’t checked in with her since the ambulance took her away. I’d been too distracted with Blake.
    Feeling guilty, I located my cell phone and checked my messages. Poor Lilli had sent me fifteen texts. They’d cleared her for knee surgery later that afternoon. I sent her a quick note, grateful for the voice recognition software that made it a breeze to compose a message.
    The performance went great. I have so much to tell you. Be there before your surgery. Hugs, Ruby.
    Text sent, I quickly pulled on a very supportive sports bra followed by a red cirque t-shirt and some sweatpants, eschewing my usual sequined pin-up girl look. For once, I didn’t want anything to do with sequins. I wasn’t up to the bling. A few minutes later, I was back at Blake’s trailer.
    A crowd had gathered in my absence and I gave a silent prayer of thanks for small favors. I would have died from embarrassment if everyone had seen me in a bed sheet.
    The shy pervert cop still guarded the entrance to the RV. He nodded at me when I appeared and a second later, Detective Bowler emerged from the trailer, a dark scowl on his face. His gaze settled on me and he glared at me like I was dog poop on his shoe.
    “You,” he barked, beckoning me forward. “Come inside.”
    A ripple went through the crowd when they realized he meant me. So much for discretion. The rumors would have me pregnant with Blake’s love child in five minutes flat. They’d be talking about it on their CB radios while driving to their next destination. I knew most of the performers had a gig with another circus starting out in Ohio the next week, so they would caravan together and pass the long drive talking about my sex life. All the live long day.
    Fantastic.
    I stood up straight as I marched into Blake’s trailer, where I promptly froze at the sight before me. The entire trailer had been tossed. The kitchen cabinets hung open, their contents thrown on the floor. The couch cushions and the ones on the dining bench had all been sliced with a knife, spilling white fiberfill like snow.
    Frowning, I looked at the cop. He was tall and lean with a sharp face. A jagged scar ran from his check to his jaw. As cops went he looked dangerous, like maybe he’d started out as a bad guy and switched teams. “What the hell happened in here?”
    His eyes narrowed. “I’ll ask the questions, young lady. Where is Blake Cannon?”
    I shrugged. “I have no idea. He was here last night and then gone when I woke up this morning. I never knew he left.”
    “You known him long?” He pulled out his phone and began typing. I couldn’t say for sure, but I assumed he was noting my answers. Or maybe texting his wife, who knew?
    “Well,” I hedged not sure how to explain it. In truth, I barely knew the guy, but I’d obsessed about him for months. “We knew of each other since the circus started six months ago. I tailored his suit once or twice.” At the cop’s confused look, I added, “I’m the seamstress for the cirque.”
    “How long have you been involved with him,” he paused and waved his hand in the air, not quite sure how to phrase it. Finally, he settled on, “in a personal capacity?”
    I cleared my throat, my cheeks burning. “Just last night.”
    The detective raised his eyebrows at me, judging my loose morals. “Did he say anything? Mention anything?”
    I shook my head. “We didn’t talk much.”
    The cop’s eyebrows drew together, the expression skeptical. “All right. Give me your contact information and we’re done here.” He fished a card out of his back pocket and handed it to me. “Call me if you hear from him.”
    I took the card. “What is he charged with, Detective?”
    “Stealing from the wrong man,” came the cryptic reply. Finger poised over his phone, he prompted, “So how can I reach you?”
    I gave him my cell phone number and just shrugged when he asked for an address. I didn’t have a home other than