Tasting Fear by Shannon McKenna Read Free Book Online

jeweler’s store address. I also found his home address.”
    “And?” The German waited.
    “Ah…and what? It was past business hours, and the guy was probably eating dinner, or fucking his mistress, so I figured I’d wait—”
    “Wait? For what? For the carpenter’s crew to rip the house apart and find what you are unable to find? What then, John? What then?”
    John’s mouth worked. The asshole went on before he could reply.
    “Assume that the pendants are part of the Contessa’s puzzle. The daughters know nothing. The Contessa is dead, thanks to you—”
    “I did not kill her!” John protested. “I just started to—”
    “The only person who could conceivably know more is the jeweler,” the German said. And? So?
    John blew a breath out flared nostrils. “All right. Tomorrow I’ll—”
    “Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.”
    “You mean…now? But it’s past midnight, and I—”
    “I know exactly what time it is. Past midnight is an ideal time for an interrogation. It’s an ideal time for many things. As you know, John.”
    John reordered his mind around this new imperative. “You are implying an, ah…ultimate solution?”
    The man sighed, as if John was being tiresome. “When you were recommended, I was told that I would not have to micromanage.”
    John ground his teeth. “I will take care of it.”
    “I do not want that crew in that house until we know more.”
    A muscle twitched in John’s cheek. “I can’t stop it without making a mess,” he said. “I could arrange an accident for the carpenter…?”
    “No. No more bodies unless it is necessary. A break-in, some vandalism. Delay the work. Search again, not that I hold up much hope after your failure so far.”
    “Yes,” John said tightly after a pause.
    “Very well, then. Until tomorrow.”
    The connection broke. John laid the phone down. Back to work.
    He dragged his black plastic box out from under the bed. It was full of curiosities that he’d acquired over the years, devices he’d made and adapted himself, even some original antiques. He selected some tried-and-true favorites and loaded his kit bag. The thought of the job ahead, his knives and picks, the jeweler screaming, begging…ah. He needed something to kick him up. But first, the bitch Contessa’s house.
    He selected the lock drill. Even if the contents of the house were inanimate, smashing them would feel good.
    It was a precursor of warmer, softer, juicier things to come.

Chapter
3
    N ancy took a bracing gulp of her coffee, finished typing the latest edits into Peter’s CD liner notes in her laptop, and closed the program. She was already late. Moxie flung herself at Nancy’s feet and writhed. She picked the cat up and buried her face in the animal’s fur. Her kitty had been feeling neglected, and now Moxie had to spend yet another day alone while Nancy cleaned the stuff out of Lucia’s kitchen.
    She had not asked her sisters to come help. Not that they could have, today. Nell was working, as always, teaching classes all morning and waitressing all afternoon, and Vivi was working a crafts show upstate. Of course, Nancy herself had a triple workday that she was canceling out to do all this. But the truth was, she preferred to see Liam Knightly alone. Nothing got past Vivi’s and Nell’s sharp eyes. Nancy didn’t want her sisters intercepting any smoldering glances, catching any stray waves of throbbing sexual heat. They would draw their shrewd conclusions, and, God forbid, tease her. Or worse, worry about her.
    First order of business, to dress. The jeans and T-shirt she’d thrown on after her shower were perfect for cleaning and packing kitchenware, but they were utterly inadequate for facing Liam Knightly.
    Moxie sprawled, purring, on a growing heap of rejects on the futon couch as Nancy yanked item after item out of her closet.
    She finally settled on snug black pants and a white cotton blouse, nipped in at the waist, primly buttoned