Romantic Thriller Collection Featuring Sharon Sala by Sharon Sala

Author:Sharon Sala
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781459296558
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINE

“We may have a chance at a warrant.”

Ivy nearly ran off on the shoulder as she left the main highway onto Vesper Road. “You’re kidding.”

Antoine’s voice sounded jubilant over the cell phone’s hands-free speaker. “I have a friend on the Maryville force. Seems he’s got the chief’s ear, and once I told him about the cases and why we think Davenport Trucking might be peripherally involved, he convinced the chief to call a judge friend of his. He’s supposed to call me back in the morning with the judge’s response. He’s asking for a list of names covering rentals from two weeks before the first murder to the present—that should be all we need, don’t you think?”

It was better than she’d hoped for when she left the office with Antoine still making calls. “It should be.”

“He’s not going to bother the judge before morning, so go home and get some rest. You look like hell.”

“You’re such a flatterer, Antoine.”

She pushed the call end button and slowed as she approached the turn into her driveway. To her surprise, Sutton’s truck was parked next to the house. Since she hadn’t heard from him since leaving Davenport Trucking, she’d figured he’d found somewhere else to stay for the night.

He was sitting on her front porch, a six-pack of Corona beer on the step beside him. Only one was missing from the pack, she saw as she walked slowly up the path to the steps. It dangled from the fingers of his left hand, still half-full. So unless he’d already been through another six-pack, at least he wasn’t drunk.

But he looked as if he wanted to be.

“You didn’t call,” she murmured as he lifted his smoldering gaze to meet hers.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come back here.”

“But here you are.”

He lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a swig. “Yeah. Here I am.”

She dropped onto the porch step next to him. He reached into the six-pack and brought out a bottle. “Want one?”

She was tempted, but she had a feeling at least one of them should stay completely sober tonight. “No, thanks.”

He shrugged and put the bottle down beside him. “I saw my father.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you warn me he’d had a stroke?”

His words gave her a start. “You didn’t know?”

Haunted eyes lifted to meet hers. “No.”

“I figured you knew.” She had seen Cleve Calhoun only a couple of times since his stroke, once at a Knoxville hospital when she was there to check on an assault victim and, more recently, when Seth Hammond had taken him to the local clinic for his flu shot while she was there getting a sprained ankle treated. Seeing Cleve Calhoun, one of the most alive men she’d ever encountered, wheelchair bound and mute had come as a jolt to her system. “You must have been really shocked to see him that way.”

He took another drink. “Understatement.”

“Nobody tried to contact you when he had the stroke?” If she’d had any idea he’d been left in the dark, she’d have tried to track him down herself.

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