Harlequin Romantic Suspense August 2017 Box Set by C.J. Miller

Author:C.J. Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781488016608
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2017-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 3

Customers sometimes thought that because Martine knew something about voodoo, she must know all the other woowoo stuff. They asked if she was a witch, a psychic, a medicine woman, if she could talk to the dead or read auras or throw the bones. She patiently explained that she had knowledge but no powers. She never knew who was calling before looking at caller ID. If she met a premonition, she wouldn’t recognize it, and all she ever knew about a person was what anyone else with eyes could see.

But as the footsteps reached the top of the stairs and turned automatically to the right, a shiver ran through her. She didn’t need supernatural powers to know that Jack had stood her up, the rat, and sent DiBiase in his place. Anyone who shared her dislike for the detective could have told the same thing just based on instinct, pheromones or the hairs dancing on their nape. There was nothing special about it.

Nothing special about instincts or hairs dancing on her nape. But pheromones, those man/woman chemicals that signaled interest and attraction and desire...those were pretty damn special.

But not in play here. Not between her and DiBiase.

He stopped in the workroom doorway, slid off his damp coat, looked around, then hung it on the corner of the door. His hair was damp, too, the bright overhead lights glinting off it. He raised both hands as if to stall whatever criticism she might offer. “Jack had to go out of town to pick up a prisoner.”

“A fact he failed to mention when he texted that he would be over soon.” But as she said the words, she acknowledged that wasn’t exactly what he’d said. She’d said she wanted to give him information about Paulina, and he’d sent back three words: Be there soon. He couldn’t be held responsible, he would argue, if she wrongly assumed he meant he would be there soon, could he?

Blowing out her breath, she gestured to the chair across from her. The plastic bin was out again, this time sitting on the seat beside her. She wished she’d thrown out this stuff years ago, that she’d run farther than New Orleans and changed her name and never, ever heard from her one-time friends again, because then maybe Callie and Paulina would be alive, and even if they weren’t, she wouldn’t know about it.

But maybe something in this bin or some bit of information in her memories would help lead the police to their killers...or killer. Maybe it would save Tallie and Robin from the same fate.

Maybe it would save Martine, and then she truly could bury the past.

DiBiase sat across from her and pulled a notebook, small and scruffy, from his jacket pocket. Silently she slid a paper across to him. “Those are the names of Paulina’s and my best friends when we were kids. I don’t know anything current about them, except that Tallie lives in London. The names underneath—that’s their mothers’ Facebook accounts.

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