SC 06 To Love, Honor, and Perish by Barritt Christy

Author:Barritt, Christy [Barritt, Christy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Mystery
Published: 2013-11-03T18:30:00+00:00

***

Parker left, and I grabbed my cellphone. After I fished the business card from the bottom of my purse, I quickly dialed Garrett Mercer’s number. The receptionist put me through. That woman was a saint.

I knew I didn’t have much time if I was going to talk to Garrett again without interfering with a police investigation. Soon, the police would be all over GCI, asking questions of Garrett Mercer and all of Juliette’s coworkers. That’s why I had to strike now.

“Ms. St. Claire. I was hoping you’d call again.” Garrett’s rumbling, irksome British accent flowed over the line.

I didn’t even ask why he was hoping I’d call again. I didn’t have time to play any games. “I have more questions.”

“I thought you might. I was just getting ready to take my lunch break. Care to meet me?”

“On purely professional terms? Yes. Name the time and place.”

He listed the name of an organic, farm-to-table restaurant called The Farm Girl that Sierra liked to frequent. I couldn’t care less about the organic or farm fresh aspect, but I said yes. I had just enough time to get there and put a fresh coat of powder on my face so my skin wouldn’t look quite as pale.

I shuddered as I pulled into the parking garage. I continued to shudder as I stepped out of my van and hurried toward the exit. I was nearly jogging down the sidewalk in an effort to reach Garrett in time.

The day was still gloomy and more rain threatened to spill from the sky. I’d heard murmurings about an approaching hurricane. Right now, I just hoped I made it inside before the sky burst.

Finally, I walked into the restaurant, practically panting but dry. I wanted to take a moment to compose myself, but when I looked up, Garrett was standing there, a twinkle in his eyes. “Ms. St. Claire. Breathless to see me again, I see.”

I scowled. “Something like that.”

He smirked. “I have a table waiting for us.” He extended his hand, showing me which direction to head.

I took in one last breath and then weaved between the country-style tables. His hand went to my back, and shivers went through me. Though I was sure he was just being polite and guiding me in the right direction, the last thing I wanted was for him to touch me. No, he was way too flirty as it was. And the fact that my body was actually responding was even more disturbing.

If I didn’t need information from him so badly, I might have swatted his hand away. But I maintained a polite façade. I needed to stay on good terms with him.

We sat at a chunky wooden table. Butcher paper covered the top, and crayons—for adult and child’s use—were in a bowl in the middle, right beside a jar of dried wildflowers. The restaurant cut out the best tabletop drawings and displayed them on a board by the waiting area.

“The sweet potato cakes are fabulous here,” he offered, not even bothering to pick up the menu.

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