Fool's Gold (A sexy funny mystery/romance, Cottonmouth Book 2) by Skully Jennifer

Author:Skully, Jennifer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, romantic suspense, love, humor, romantic comedy, emotional, sexy, fun, funny, contemporary, romance novel, janet evanovich, second chance, heart wrenching, compassionate, passionate, sexy romance, bella andre, lora leigh, makeover, jasmine haynes, fantasy sex, jennifer crusie, heartbreaking, sassy, endless love, lori foster, victoria dahl
Publisher: Jennifer Skully

Chapter Thirteen

Dammit. Carl had withdrawn three thousand in cash. Three thousand. Then he’d gone for a hike? In Brax’s gut, the man’s actions didn’t make sense.

Carl and Maggie had been having marital problems. Maggie had reamed him. Carl displayed an overzealous reaction to a dart game and a proposed resort. Then he’d cashed out three thousand dollars and fallen off the side of a mountain.

Coincidence? Not in Brax’s experience. Though he believed her reasons for crying murder were due more to her own sense of guilt, Maggie might be right.

Could the money have been on him when he died? Did Teesdale take it? Brax thought the sheriff incompetent, but not a thief. More importantly, Carl’s unidentified assailant would have gotten to the money first. Before the chickens and way before Teesdale.

Dammit, dammit. Brax should have known something more was up than ten years of marriage becoming routine. Carl had bled the bank account for weeks in small but consistent amounts. Maggie had told Brax that, and the statements confirmed it.

Money and murder went hand in hand.

Brax, for his part, had wanted only to smooth things over, bring the issue to a swift resolution, and get back to his vacation. He’d fobbed his responsibilities off on a bestselling relationship book. He’d planned to give his sister short shrift.

Now Carl was lying in Teesdale’s basement. Jesus. He should have done something. Anything. Instead, he’d fucked up his duties.

Same as he had in Cottonmouth, he’d ignored signs screaming at him.

His initial thought was to wake up Maggie. Now. She had to know more than she’d told him. Her husband had a net worth of almost a million, and, by her own admission, she checked his balances on line. Did she know about all the accounts? Why was she hiding shit from him when she’d flat-out asked for his help?

One last unbearable thought pounded at him.

Had Maggie discovered the withdrawal, then followed Carl up that trail, and fought with him about it?

He was a cop, and the golden rule was look first to those closest to the victim.

He would not follow the rule with his own family, and he didn’t give a goddamn what anyone said about that. He’d make damn sure Teesdale didn’t follow it either. Brax’s gut told him Maggie’s reactions were born of guilt over her last words to Carl. If she’d had anything to do with his death, then for the last two days, she’d given the performance of an Academy Award-winning actress. No. No one could have faked her reactions along the way. Not the ballistic anger, nor the disabling pain. Maggie had denied to herself that Carl was dead, then she’d cooked up the murder scenario. To appease her own guilt. That was all. Nothing more.

So where the hell was the money?

The cash or a paper trail leading to it had to be somewhere in Carl’s office. When Brax found it, he’d tackle Maggie. In the morning, when she’d made it through this first hellish night and the temporary oblivion provided by Xanax.

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