Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Carolyn Scott
I never tired of.
We drew apart and I moved toward the door only to stop before I reached it. How did I end up being the one to apologize? "You're good, Knight."
He flashed that grin which was totally at odds with his mostly serious nature. It was his best weapon, but thank God he didn't know that. "My place or yours tonight?" he asked.
"Mine." Packing half my bathroom cabinet and choosing my outfit a day ahead wasn't my idea of fun, so I'd decided to buy duplicates of all my makeup and other essentials to leave at his place. Since my budget was tight, I only bought a few items at once and had a long way to go. Until I'd claimed at least three quarters of his cupboard space, I preferred my own apartment for our overnighters. "I'll cook."
He winced. "I think it's my turn."
Fine by me. If he didn't want to eat my TV dinners, that was his problem. Besides, he was a great cook. Why waste the talent?
"I've got a few things to finish off here," he said, reclining in the large leather chair behind his desk. "Say around seven?"
"Seven it is. I might as well get started on Jenny's case."
"Finally! It's only taken six months to get you to do overtime."
I wasn't carrying anything to throw at him so I poked my tongue out. Very mature, Cat .
I headed down the hallway to my office, Will's chuckle chasing me. I smiled to myself. It was great to see him loosening up. Laughter had been a rare commodity at Knight Investigations until recently. Thank God he'd proven most people wrong—including me—by having a funny bone after all. I could never be with someone who didn't have a sense of humor. It's amazing how dynamite sex can relax a person.
Back in reception, Faith was packing away her things. It must have been five already. "See you tomorrow," I said chirpily.
She gave me a wan smile, the one people use for strangers or annoying children. Instead of leaving, she headed up the hallway to Will's office. She returned a couple of minutes later with a genuine smile on her face.
Hmmm, definitely something suspicious between them. Why the hell couldn't Will tell me how he knew her? What was the big secret? She wasn't the sort of woman he would associate with socially. She looked insignificant with her pale skin, lank hair and drab clothes. I just couldn't picture them together romantically, but then I'd been wrong on that score before.
So if he hadn't slept with her, was she a friend of a friend? A distant relative? If so, then why not tell me? What was the big deal?
I'd get an answer out of her one way or another, even if I had to sit through endless discussions on the weather. In my experience, getting people talking about anything at all often led them to open up about themselves. It was a tactic I'd used in Hollywood when I wanted to needle my way into a particular celebrity's little black book. It had worked like a charm. Their egos never allowed an opportunity to talk about themselves pass by. Faith might be a harder nut to crack, but almost everyone could be broken eventually using that tactic.
Sitting at my desk, I switched my thoughts to Jenny's problem. If I'd stayed in L.A., would she have gotten into financial trouble? She usually consulted me before she did anything stupid, but since I'd moved away, we rarely spoke. I guess it was just one of those friendships that wasn't destined to survive the tyranny of distance.
I opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a notepad and pen. The office still contained traces of Carl, even though the police had given it a thorough going over and I'd packed his personal belongings in a box. A small box. He didn't have any photos or other things that people hung around their workspaces. The box, stashed in the storeroom with all the other junk, held a mug with a Far Side cartoon on one side, a blank postcard of the Sydney Opera House, and a yellow stress ball.
I hadn't gotten around to personalizing the room yet, but I had plans, starting with a potted plant and a few framed photos
We drew apart and I moved toward the door only to stop before I reached it. How did I end up being the one to apologize? "You're good, Knight."
He flashed that grin which was totally at odds with his mostly serious nature. It was his best weapon, but thank God he didn't know that. "My place or yours tonight?" he asked.
"Mine." Packing half my bathroom cabinet and choosing my outfit a day ahead wasn't my idea of fun, so I'd decided to buy duplicates of all my makeup and other essentials to leave at his place. Since my budget was tight, I only bought a few items at once and had a long way to go. Until I'd claimed at least three quarters of his cupboard space, I preferred my own apartment for our overnighters. "I'll cook."
He winced. "I think it's my turn."
Fine by me. If he didn't want to eat my TV dinners, that was his problem. Besides, he was a great cook. Why waste the talent?
"I've got a few things to finish off here," he said, reclining in the large leather chair behind his desk. "Say around seven?"
"Seven it is. I might as well get started on Jenny's case."
"Finally! It's only taken six months to get you to do overtime."
I wasn't carrying anything to throw at him so I poked my tongue out. Very mature, Cat .
I headed down the hallway to my office, Will's chuckle chasing me. I smiled to myself. It was great to see him loosening up. Laughter had been a rare commodity at Knight Investigations until recently. Thank God he'd proven most people wrong—including me—by having a funny bone after all. I could never be with someone who didn't have a sense of humor. It's amazing how dynamite sex can relax a person.
Back in reception, Faith was packing away her things. It must have been five already. "See you tomorrow," I said chirpily.
She gave me a wan smile, the one people use for strangers or annoying children. Instead of leaving, she headed up the hallway to Will's office. She returned a couple of minutes later with a genuine smile on her face.
Hmmm, definitely something suspicious between them. Why the hell couldn't Will tell me how he knew her? What was the big secret? She wasn't the sort of woman he would associate with socially. She looked insignificant with her pale skin, lank hair and drab clothes. I just couldn't picture them together romantically, but then I'd been wrong on that score before.
So if he hadn't slept with her, was she a friend of a friend? A distant relative? If so, then why not tell me? What was the big deal?
I'd get an answer out of her one way or another, even if I had to sit through endless discussions on the weather. In my experience, getting people talking about anything at all often led them to open up about themselves. It was a tactic I'd used in Hollywood when I wanted to needle my way into a particular celebrity's little black book. It had worked like a charm. Their egos never allowed an opportunity to talk about themselves pass by. Faith might be a harder nut to crack, but almost everyone could be broken eventually using that tactic.
Sitting at my desk, I switched my thoughts to Jenny's problem. If I'd stayed in L.A., would she have gotten into financial trouble? She usually consulted me before she did anything stupid, but since I'd moved away, we rarely spoke. I guess it was just one of those friendships that wasn't destined to survive the tyranny of distance.
I opened the top desk drawer and pulled out a notepad and pen. The office still contained traces of Carl, even though the police had given it a thorough going over and I'd packed his personal belongings in a box. A small box. He didn't have any photos or other things that people hung around their workspaces. The box, stashed in the storeroom with all the other junk, held a mug with a Far Side cartoon on one side, a blank postcard of the Sydney Opera House, and a yellow stress ball.
I hadn't gotten around to personalizing the room yet, but I had plans, starting with a potted plant and a few framed photos
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