In the Midnight Howl (Peculiar Mysteries Book 5) by Renee George

Author:Renee George [George, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Renee George
Published: 2017-07-17T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I texted Brady and asked him if he wanted to meet me for lunch. He said he was starting a bathroom addition for a client, but he could get away for an hour around one-thirty, did I want to meet at his house?

My fingers shook as I texted yes. I knew I’d be cutting it close to my scheduled meeting with Milo Greene, but I had a feeling Brady would be asking me to leave before the hour was up.

I grew queasy on the drive out to his house. How in the world could I ask him about Jo Jo without sounding like I was accusing him of aiding and abetting a criminal? I didn’t want to believe the kid could kill and then pin Evelyn to a wall. I didn’t get that vibe, but I had seen how angry he’d gotten at the rehearsals. What if Jo Jo had a temper that he’d been able to hide from everyone—everyone except his dad.

Blowing up my love life before it even had time to sprout legs was not how I’d imagined my week going. At all.

I pulled into Brady’s gravel drive, rocks crunching under my tires. Apprehension filled me until I thought I’d explode anxiety all over the dashboard.

Pull yourself together, Wilhelmina Boden. This was not me. This was not how I behaved. I’d become the head security officer for the Tri-State Council because I knew how to separate my personal life from work.

Yeah, said my inner voice. But, as Ruth pointed out, you never cared about your personal life before now.

I wanted to yank out my stupid inner voice and strangle it. Mostly because it was right.

Brady opened his front door and smiled at me. He wore a white t-shirt that hugged his broad chest, and a pair of jeans that made me purr. My stomach dropped. I didn’t really need to know what he was hiding about Jo Jo, did I?

I had to remind myself that a woman was dead. The killer was the bad guy, not me. I had to follow the lead even if it meant losing my shot with Brady.

However, nothing said I couldn’t ease into the implication that Jo Jo was suspect number one at this point. I turned off the engine and got out of the truck.

“Hi,” I said. “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I inwardly groaned as more IQ points slipped away.

Brady chuckled. He tilted his head, gazing at me in a way that reminded me of my neighbor’s pooch when the dog found something curious. It was adorable. “I’m frying up some hamburgers. How do you take yours?”

“Medium rare.”

“Good, that’s the way I like mine, too. I can take them out of the pan at the same time.”

“Nice.” An unnatural giddiness welled up inside me as I followed into the house. Finally, I’d get to see his home. The smell of juicy beef, sautéed onions, and garlic perfumed the living room. “It smells fantastic.” The couch and chair were light blue chenille, and as I got closer, I detected the scent of detergent.

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