In Bed with the Enemy Read Online Free Page B

Shop, gardening and lawn equipment, and occasionally, when something big is coming up like the summer festival in just a few days, we store the extra nonperishable supplies needed for the restaurants and bars.”
    Elise perked up immediately. This just might be the lead she was looking for. “How are these deliveries made for the extra restaurant stock?”
    â€œUsually they’re trucked in by 18-wheelers,” he said, nodding toward the access road. “In fact, here comes another delivery now. Would you like to walk over there and check things out?”
    â€œI’d like that very much,” she said, smiling. “Do you keep a log of incoming deliveries, Mr. Estrada?”
    â€œSure do.” He nodded as they walked across the lawn. “I have it in my office down at the maintenance barn.”
    Knowing she could get a court order for the information, but hoping that route wouldn’t be necessary, she asked, “Would you mind if I made copies of the last few months’ entries?”
    â€œNot at all,” Carl said. “In fact, I have a copy machine in my office, if you’d like to use it.”
    Elise smiled again. “Thank you, Mr. Estrada. I think I’ll do just that.”
    Â 
    Through the window beside the table where he sat with Phillip Westin in the Men’s Grill, Cole caught sight of Campbell walking across the lawn with Carl Estrada. What was she up to this time? Didn’t she realize he’d already gone through those sheds with a fine-tooth comb, looking for any evidence left behind by whoever put the weapons there?
    Cole grinned. She was a couple of days late on looking into that end of the investigation. He’d talked with Carl and inspected the sheds yesterday.
    But as he watched her walk beside the groundskeeper, Cole enjoyed the slight sway of her shapely hips, the elegance of her long, slender legs. Damn, the woman had legs that could easily cause a traffic jam.
    â€œLike what you see, Yardley?” Phillip Westin asked, his silver-gray eyes twinkling as he grinned.
    Cole shook his head. “Uh…not really,” he lied. “I’m just wondering what she thinks she’ll find out there. I combed those sheds for evidence the other day.”
    â€œAh, a little friendly rivalry between the ATF and the FBI.” Westin’s grin widened, indicating that he didn’t believe a word of Cole’s excuse.
    â€œSomething like that,” Cole muttered. He cleared his throat and reached for his beer. “Now, what were you saying about Mercado?”
    Westin’s expression suddenly turned serious. “I said I believe Ricky. He says he’s backed out of the family business. That’s good enough for me.”
    â€œWhat makes you think he’s telling the truth?” Cole asked carefully. It was clear the man was convinced of Mercado’s innocence. Cole wanted to know why.
    â€œAny commanding officer in the Marine Corps worth a damn knows his men. Nine times out of ten, he knows when they’re lying.” Westin took a long draw from the beer in his hand. Placing the empty long-neck bottle on the table with a thump, he looked Cole square in the eye. “Mercado says he’s gone straight, and from everything I’ve seen, he has.”
    Cole nodded. “He’s been investing in real estate. From all indications, at least that part of the story is on the up-and-up.”
    â€œLike I said, I believe Mercado.”
    Deciding it was time to stop beating around the bush, Cole stated what bothered him the most about Mercado. “He was being groomed by his late uncle to assume control of the family, but Frank Del Brio was the one to take over when Carmine died.”
    Westin nodded. “But Ricky felt differently about the mob after Carmine died. Hell, I’m not real sure he was ever for it, but it damn sure wasn’t long after that before he decided he had to get out.” Westin