Slow Burn by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page A

there were, but people had to know they existed, especially in a city as big as Miami.
    A queasy pain swished in his stomach again; he chewed another handful of antacids. Damn Spencer. Why hadn’t she just stayed in Rhode Island? It would have been better for all of them.
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    Gene Vichy read the headline at the breakfast table while enjoying the elegant view of water and yachts at his club. He smiled slightly, shaking his head. It was one self-righteous reporter who had done the job on this one! The police were, it seemed, a handful of incompetents. His smile deepened. The general public didn’t always understand the law. Take the case of his poor murdered wife. The cops sure as hell thought he had done it, but they didn’t have a shred of proof. The D.A.’s office could never prosecute him; they had nothing but their certainty that the motive had been money. Now, as to Danny…
    The poor cops. They didn’t even have an obvious motive. In the murder of a husband or wife, as he well knew, the cops instantly looked to the surviving spouse.
    Spencer had inherited a fortune on her husband’s death, but what did that matter to a woman who had several fortunes of her own already. Then there was jealousy. A lover, perhaps?
    But, alas again for the poor cops! Spencer Huntington seemed purer than the driven snow. Where to go from there. To a best friend?
    To all those crooks Danny Huntington had been after?
    A friend, a foe—a snitch?
    He laughed out loud softly. He could almost feel it in the air. Fur was going to fly again.
    Ricky Garcia swore violently in his native Spanish and threw the paper on the floor.
    Â¡Merde! The cops were going to be crawling all over him again. Coming down on his gambling, on his prostitutes.
    All because the wife was back in town, stirring up trouble!
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    Jared Monteith hadn’t read the paper at home that morning. He didn’t see the headline until he sat down behind his desk. Even as he sat, his line rang. He winced before picking up the receiver, knowing full well that it was going to be his wife.
    â€œDid you read the damned paper?” Cecily could screech extremely well when she wanted to.
    â€œYes, I’m looking at it right now.”
    â€œI told you Spencer was trouble.”
    â€œCecily—the reporter is down on Spencer!”
    Cecily sniffed. “As if Spencer is going to worry!”
    â€œSly’s calling me,” Jared said and sighed. “Cecily, no big deal, okay? Gotta go.”
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    Trey Delia read the paper in his incense-filled room. He was sitting cross-legged and naked on his floor. The two young women who had recently come to fulfill his needs giggled softly from somewhere behind him as he sipped herbal tea laced with ox blood. Raw chicken hearts sat on a plate before him.
    Something human would have been better.
    The ancients understood. Consuming an enemy gave a man his enemy’s strength. A heart offered courage and wisdom. Some organs gave strength. Bone-meal gave a man physical and mental powers.
    Ah, and now this….
    Everyone would be up in arms again.
    The cops would be going crazy. It must be Danny’s widow stirring up the dust. Spencer, the beautiful wife. Trey had seen her picture. Very blond, elegant. Tempting.
    He popped a chicken heart into his mouth and drew a deep breath from the hashish pipe at his side. The girls were still giggling.
    Spencer…
    She was trouble. So pretty. So much trouble. So pale, slim, elegant.
    He wondered how she would taste.
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    In his office, Sly read the headline and groaned.
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    Audrey was sipping her coffee and reading, as well. Poor Spencer. The wound Danny’s death had left was being ripped open all over again. Of course, Spencer was doing it herself, but still, it was sad.
    So many people would be upset! Dangerous people. But there would be no stopping Spencer. Audrey knew her well, and she didn’t really blame her.
    Audrey bit her lip and