I'll Never Let You Go (Morgans of Nashville) Read Online Free Page A

in his brother’s voice. “Rachel is the patron saint of lost causes. She’ll say yes eventually.”
    “Saying I’m a lost cause?”
    “When it comes to marriage, yes.”
    “Ass.”
    Alex shrugged and shifted his focus back to the case. “Deidre did a hell of a job bringing down Ray Murphy. Her case was ironclad, but if she comes up dirty, his defense attorneys are going to have a field day.” Ray Murphy was a drug dealer who’d made millions selling meth. Deidre had worked undercover, getting Murphy’s girlfriend to flip and wear a wire. It had taken a year, but Deidre had worked the case better than any other cop could have.
    “You think Murphy set this little scene up?”
    “He’s smart enough. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
    Alex studied the bag and then glanced back at the body. “Find anything else?”
    “That’s it. Ballistics and whatever else forensics finds will have to be sifted through at the lab.”
    “All right.”
    Deke stared at the bag, illuminated in the halo of the flashlight. “She’s a highly decorated officer. I want whatever facts you can dig up before I talk to her.”
    Never ask a question without knowing the answer first. They’d learned the lesson in the cradle from their father, the late Buddy Morgan, a legend in the Nashville Police Department Homicide Squad. Most kids got bedtime stories. The Morgan kids heard recaps of homicide cases. Not a surprise all of the Morgan children had gone into law enforcement. Their other brother, Rick, worked homicide with Deke, and baby sister, Georgia, was a forensic technician.
    Of all the Morgan children, Deke looked the most like their father. Old-timers said he was a carbon copy. Rick, the next in line, was a slighter version of Deke. Alex shared their dark coloring, but his features were more aquiline and narrow, like their mother’s. Georgia, adopted when she was days old, was the outlier when it came to looks. She favored her birth mother’s strawberry-blond hair and freckles, though when it came to temperament, she was all Morgan.
    Deke and Rick loved homicide and, no doubt, would do the work until the city forced them to take the gold retirement watch. Alex didn’t see himself in TBI in the next decade. He made no secret about his political ambitions.
    “Okay. I’ll keep digging.” Alex checked his watch. “I’ve got to go. Georgia is singing tonight.”
    Georgia sang on her off nights in Rudy’s. Her musical talent had also been a gift from her birth mother. No Morgan brother could have identified a musical key or note, even if presented with a lineup. “I texted her and told her I was here. She understands.”
    “Right.” They might not like it, but they understood the demands of being a cop.
    Deke’s lips lifted into a rusty grin. “You sure you want to go to Rudy’s?” A retired cop owned the bar, which had become a favorite hangout for anyone wearing a badge.
    “I told Georgia I’d be there.”
    “You’re going to get hassled.”
    A smile tipped the edge of his lips. “They can try.”
    Deke laughed. “I remember when you were a kid. Mom bought you that stupid striped shirt. You were in the fourth grade?”
    “Fifth.”
    “You got all kinds of teasing over that shirt. And instead of trashing it, you wore it every day for two months.”
    “Became known as my fighting shirt.” Alex had never gone looking for a fight, but when one found him, he never backed away. After eight weeks, the shirt had been torn, mended, and bloodied more times than anyone could remember. When it vanished from the wash, his mother had denied responsibility, but they all knew she’d finally thrown it out. Alex could handle the trouble, but their mom could not.
    “Georgia also tells me you have a date.”
    Alex could have asked how his sister knew about the date but didn’t bother. She had radar, a fact he’d accepted long ago. “Yep.”
    “I thought she was joking.”
    “No.”
    “So who’s the lucky girl?”
    “Leah