White Hot by Carla Neggers

Author:Carla Neggers [Neggers, Carla]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: thriller

Leonardo’s friends lived in a pale coral stucco house on the water. Mollie dropped Jeremiah off at the end of their winding, narrow driveway, where the grounds were thick with palms, vines, banyans, and live oaks. The property was unfenced. He could go unnoticed for days, never mind an evening.

She buzzed down the passenger window and said across the seat, “By the way, there are no electric fences. And no need to worry about the Dobermans.”

He frowned at her. “What Dobermans?”

“Mozart, Ludwig, Cosima.”

“Cosima,” Jeremiah repeated.

“Wagner’s wife.”

“Mollie, that’s three Dobermans.”

“Yes, and they’re all sweethearts. They’ll probably be inside tonight,” she added, “because of the rain. So, not to worry.”

He looked at her darkly, no doubt reconsidering his role as her musketeer, but she resumed her trip up the driveway, leaving him to whatever he planned to do with himself for the next two to three hours.

Within five minutes of her arrival, Mollie knew she wasn’t going to relax and forget about Jeremiah outside, listening to the crickets and on the alert for Dobermans and God only knew what as he kept her-and by extension Leonardo’s friends-from the clutches of a jewel thief. A jewel thief, she reminded herself, who had never, once, broken into one of the parties he’d robbed. What he was doing was making sure he hadn’t made a mistake about her after all and she wasn’t the thief herself.

She was absolutely sure of it, no matter how convincing he was about caring about her.

No matter how much a part of her wanted to be convinced.

If his peculiar sense of honor had misled her into believing the worst about him ten years ago, it could just as easily compel him to keep an open mind about discovering the worst about her now.

Fortunately, Leonardo’s friends were so boisterous and fun, so much like him, that she had a hard time sulking about Jeremiah’s motives. She did feel an occasional pang of guilt at having dropped him off on their property, but she knew, too, that they would understand. She was blessed, she thought, with indulgent family and friends.

And she was proud of herself for resisting a giggle of pure delight when it started to drizzle, and another when they let out the three Dobermans. They were well-trained, beautiful dogs who wouldn’t hurt an intruder, although they might converge on him if they found him, which could be scary. Apparently they didn’t, because after a few minutes, they bounded back to the roofed terrace overlooking the water, where their masters’ guests had gathered for dessert and after-dinner drinks.

It wasn’t until Mollie was halfway through her chocolate mousse cake that the subject of her Friday evening attack came up. One woman, a tireless volunteer for virtually every arts organization in Palm Beach, said Diantha Atwood was still upset about what had happened. “You can imagine how personally she would take having one of her guests attacked. It must have been horrible for you, Mollie.”

“And I understand Jeremiah Tabak was the first on the scene,” the woman’s husband said.

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