Simple Misconception (Jordan James, PI Series) by Rachel Sharpe

Author:Rachel Sharpe [Sharpe, Rachel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781682916889
Publisher: Soul Mate Publishing, LLC
Published: 2018-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

While sunglasses masked his eyes, I could see his face. His hair was dark brown and his skin unusually pale. Then again, it might have just looked that way because he was standing beside Natalie, who, even in the winter, managed to maintain a radiant tan. Although Natalie had never been very selective when it came to relationships, nothing about this guy struck me as the type of man she would marry. Then again, Natalie never struck me as the marrying type.

Downstairs, I heard the alarm chirp. My blood turned cold. Shoving the photo in my pocket, I rushed to the door. I shut off the light. Throwing myself against the wall, I stood in silence, listening. A familiar voice began muttering aloud, the words slurred together in a drunken mush.

“. . . damn mother flipping . . . eighty-five bucks for a two-minute cab ride . . . might as well have rented a damn limo . . .”

I didn’t have to peek out the door to know I was hearing the inebriated ramblings of Dr. Martin Weisman. I’d heard similar rants in years past. He slammed the front door shut. I listened as his shoes clicked across the floor in a sporadic, stumbling motion. He continued as he made his way through the living room. It suddenly occurred to me that his dead wife was lying on his couch. Even a drunk couldn’t mistake a body as dead as that one.

I was trying to come up with a logical explanation as to why I was there in case he found me. My heart pounding in my ears, I swallowed hard. From a distance, I could hear him still complaining. I realized he was talking to his dead wife.

“That’s the last time, dammit,” he mumbled, his shoes shuffling across the floor. “I’m tired of the . . . and all the . . . the money’s not worth it!” He continued his rant, asking questions of a woman who did not utter a reply. The more he spoke, the more convoluted and suspicious his ramblings became. “Do you realize I was almost caught by Customs? If they had found those vials . . . Jess, are you even listening to me? Jess?”

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