Amelia Storm 01-Storm's Fury by Stone Mary & Wilson Amy

Author:Stone, Mary & Wilson, Amy [Stone, Mary & Wilson, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Suspense, American Suspense, Police Procedural, Crime Thriller, Chicago, FBI
Published: 2021-01-04T06:00:00+00:00

12

As Zane slowed the car to a halt at a traffic light, its red glow accentuated the jade green fabric of Amelia’s extremely short dress, turning it a shimmering purple.

He had to force himself to keep his attention on the road, especially as his eyes drifted toward her shapely legs.

They had made it two blocks from the club when Amelia pulled out her phone to call Joseph Larson.

Over the course of the night, he’d done plenty of ogling in the interest of pretending to be Amelia’s fake husband. The whole ordeal had left him feeling like a creep. He doubted he’d shake the sentiment until he had a chance to take a long, hot shower. Still, he dared to tempt a look at her once more, curious to see her response to Joseph’s tinny voice.

“Yeah, we’ll be there in fifteen or twenty, depending on traffic.” She fidgeted with the hem of her black-and-white striped cardigan. “Okay. Yeah, I’ll tell him. You too. Later.”

Amelia ended the call and set her smartphone down in the cupholder. “Larson said that SAC Keaton is getting ahold of a judge friend of hers to sign a warrant to search the address that Dawn gave us.”

Zane’s brow furrowed as the light turned green. “So…back to the office?”

She glanced down to her halter dress and sighed. “I guess, yeah.”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “What was that for?”

“A few weeks ago, I used the change of clothes I keep at work after I had that mishap with the fountain drink I got from the gas station.” She exhaled loudly. “You know the one I’m talking about.”

“Oh, I remember. You picked it up by the lid and spilled fruit punch all over yourself. The best part was that you had to be in court later that day. Is there still a red stain on the carpet under your chair?”

She huffed, but he didn’t have to look at her to know the exasperation was feigned.

That was one aspect of Amelia’s personality he’d appreciated from the get-go. She rarely took herself seriously. Fluent in self-deprecating comments himself, Zane appreciated another person who used that humor liberally.

One of her chandelier earrings glittered as she brushed the stray hairs from her face. “Okay, for starters, it wasn’t just fruit punch. It was mixed with Sprite.” She waved a dismissive hand. “But I’ll look past your oversight. Yes, that’s what I’m talking about, and no, there’s not a stain under my desk anymore. The cleaning crew at the FBI office does not cut corners.”

Laughter continued to bubble up Zane’s throat as he switched lanes. “I spilled chili on the carpet in the breakroom once, and when I was trying to clean it up, one of the cleaning crew came in and…” he held up a finger and glanced at her, “I shit you not…they shooed me out like I was a civilian wandering around a crime scene.”

She shifted in her seat and yanked at the hem again. “I told you, they don’t mess around.

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