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

Carson.”
    “The veterinarian who takes care of Rick’s dog?”
    Their brother Rick had been a canine officer who’d been allowed to adopt Tracker after the dog had been retired. “Yes.”
    “How’d you meet?”
    “Rick is boarding his dog at the vet’s kennel. I told him I’d check on Tracker while he was gone.”
    “What’s special about Leah?”
    “She’s Deidre’s new best friend.”
    Deke nodded. “You set this up.”
    “I did.”
    “How’d you get Rick to board Tracker?”
    “Told him I needed an undercover officer with four legs. He liked the idea of his canine working again.”
    “And now you and Deidre’s friend are going on a date?”
    “That’s right.” Digging his phone out of his pocket, he texted Georgia. R UNNING LATE . G IVE MY DATE THE HEADS-UP . B UY HER A DRINK . B E THERE IN TWENTY .
    “What do you know about her?”
    “Not much. But that’s the point of a date. To learn.”
    “Mixing business with pleasure?”
    When it came to catching the bad guys, lying came naturally to Alex. He did what he had to do. In his personal life he never lied. Leah was the first time black and white had muddied to gray.
    “Leah’s the only personal friend Deidre Jones seems to have these days. Wouldn’t hurt to find out what she knows about Deidre.” Alex’s phone dinged with a text. W ILL DO . He slid his phone back into his pocket. “Have you gotten me a rundown on Deidre’s recent cases?”
    “On my desk. I’ll send it tomorrow.”
    Neither one of them liked the idea of investigating Deidre. But good cops went bad for all variety of reasons, and when they went bad, Alex had the unpleasant job of mopping up the mess. “I’ll call you when I have something.”
    “Talk only to me.”
    “Understood.”

Chapter Two
    Saturday, January 14, 8 P.M.
     
    Until death do us part.
    The freshly tattooed wedding vow ran along the twenty-six bones of his spine, entwined by a thorny, flowerless vine that coiled around and cut through the neatly scripted letters. A delicate sparrow fluttered above a jagged thorn and the word Death .
    Each prick of the tattoo artist’s needle had been a painful reminder of the love he carried for his sparrow, a lovely wife who, confused and misled by lying friends, didn’t understand the true depth of his commitment.
    Though she’d left him, he’d never stopped keeping tabs on her, and he’d tracked her to her rented town house near Nashville’s West End Park. He’d cried when she’d begun flirting shamelessly with men. When she’d begun sleeping with them, hurt had turned to rage. His little lark had turned into a whore.
    Now, he sat in his dark truck parked at the corner of Fourth and Broadway. Across lanes of traffic, he watched her sitting in her car, the engine running. He knew her routine well. When she went out, when she met her new friend for a glass of wine, when she arrived at and left work. No detail was too small. Not one iota missed.
    She got out of her car, locked it, and, hands tucked in her pockets with head ducked against a cold wind, and marched up Broadway. She paused at a honky-tonk called Rudy’s and, for a moment, stared into the large window, studying the crowd.
    A slight smile tweaked the edges of his lips. “Looking for me, babe? Think I’m inside?”
    After a pause, another woman approached her, and the two exchanged laughs before she tugged open the front door and they moved inside. He knew the other woman as well. His wife’s new best friend.
    He shifted forward in his seat, leaning against the steering wheel as he watched her through the window. Rudy’s, buffered from the cold and alight with music and laughter, was packed with customers.
    His wife pulled her scarf free and opened her jacket as she lingered on the fringe of the crowd. She wore a long-sleeved black turtleneck that accentuated her full breasts. Black hair hung loose around her shoulders. He didn’t like the new look. Too dramatic. Bossy. She’d made so many