Spin Control. Kate DonovanЧитать онлайн книгу.
the only message?”
“She left two. The first one was about the Sperminator. You’ll never guess what he did.”
Suzannah stared into his laughing eyes, muttered, “You must have a death wish,” then rewound the recorder and pushed Play.
The machine announced, “Message number one,” then Noelle West’s voice began again: “Hey, it’s me. You’ll never guess what the Sperminator did last night, so I’ll just tell you. He proposed again. For real this time. He said, and I quote, ‘I know we were only getting married because we thought you were knocked up, but I got kind of used to the idea.’ Romantic, huh? So where the hell are you? We need to talk.”
There was an emphatic click, then the machine announced, “Message number two.”
It was Noelle again, saying, “Hey, what’s going on? Why aren’t you answering your cell? I’m dying over here. First the Sperminator, now this hot new rumor about you. My cousin was in the courtroom and she said the hanging judge almost locked you up. But instead he hooked you up. With some killer. And she says the killer’s gorgeous, but the little creep didn’t give me any other details. So—”
Suzannah stopped the tape again, shaking her head in amused disbelief. The Sperminator had actually re-proposed? That was big, big news. It was a little embarrassing that Justin had heard about it and downright mortifying that he had heard himself described as a gorgeous killer, but it could have been worse.
“If you’re going to be spending time here, you need to respect my privacy.”
“The light was flashing,” he explained. “So? What’s your buddy’s name?”
“Noelle. And obviously I need to call her right away. Excuse me, please? Just for a few minutes?”
“Sure. She sounds great. Best friends? For how long?”
Suzannah hesitated but could see he wasn’t going to let it go. “Her family lived next door to my grandmother. Every time my parents got divorced, I went there to live for a while. So we’ve been friends, off and on, forever.”
She liked the fact that he was speechless, at least for the moment. Not that she blamed him. She didn’t usually share her parents’ bizarre marriage history with strangers, but she had a feeling Justin would run a background check on her anyway, so he’d eventually find out about the divorces.
“How many times—”
“Twice. Which means I got to attend two of their three weddings.” She smiled in wry amusement. “If my mother were here, she’d tell you it’s romantic. That’s how nuts my parents are.”
“But they’re set now?”
“God, I hope so.” She rolled her eyes in mock frustration. “Anyway, living with Grandma next to Noelle’s family was crucial to my sanity, so in a way, it’s a good thing they were so…so whatever. They’re fun,” she added quickly. “And lovable. But they got married when they were just crazy kids and they’ve somehow managed to keep that childlike quality right into their fifties. Anyway…” She backed toward her bedroom. “I’ve got to get the details on this Sperminator development. And you need to work on clearing yourself of murder charges. So why don’t we both get busy?”
True to form, Noelle had Suzannah laughing within seconds as she recounted the Sperminator’s beer-induced but still amazing proposal. More stunning still was the fact that Noelle seemed to be considering it!
“We’ll have to start calling him Steve, you know,” Suzannah told her friend. “Just in case you guys go through with it.”
“Speaking of men, I need details. About the murderer.”
“I told you, he’s innocent. An FBI agent with a spotless record. He was framed, and hopefully I can help unframe him without getting myself charged with contempt in the process. Wish me luck. I’d better get back in there before he starts rummaging through my files.”
“Is he as good-looking as my cousin said?”
“Yep. Picture a blend of Highlander and a young Obi Wan.”
“Which Highlander?” Noelle asked, her tone challenging. “Yours or mine?”
“There can be only one,” Suzannah reminded her with a laugh, wondering for the umpteenth time how Noelle could prefer Christopher Lambert’s Highlander to Adrian Paul’s. “Anyway, I’d better get back to him. I’ll call you when he leaves.”
“Are you sure he’ll be leaving? He sounds pretty sexy. Maybe he’ll sleep over.”
“He’s a client. And a murder suspect. Plus, he’s not my type.”
“Give me a break,” Noelle drawled. “You said yourself he’s a cross between your two favorite heroes. Does he have an accent?”
“Well, not Scottish, that’s for sure. If anything, he’s got the tiniest hint of a cowboy twang.” She expected Noelle to react strongly, but she said nothing, so Suzannah prodded her. “Noelle?”
“Sorry, I just drooled all over myself.”
“You’re such a nut.” Suzannah grinned and repeated, “I’ll call you when he leaves. Don’t elope or anything before then. ’Bye.”
She hung up the phone, then braced herself for another round with Justin. She was getting used to the idea of being his attorney, but having her privacy invaded was something else.
He cons and seduces people for a living. So be careful….
Taking a deep breath, she returned to the living room and found him dutifully working the jigsaw puzzle, just as he’d promised.
He had draped his leather bomber jacket over one kitchen chair and had slung his shoulder holster over another. Just those few subtle touches, along with his not-so-subtle sexuality, had given her home a strong infusion of masculinity that she found disorienting.
So this is what it’s like to have a man around the house, she teased herself nervously. Next he’ll be opening jars for you and taking out the trash.
Shaking off the confused mood, she walked over and sat at the table. “I’ve got more questions about the case.”
“Shoot.”
“Speaking of shooting…” She eyed the shoulder holster, which was empty. “They confiscated your gun and your badge, right? I mean, temporarily. So…?”
“Force of habit. I can put it away if it bothers you.”
“It’s fine.” She arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you guys usually have backup weapons? Something with the serial numbers sanded off or whatever?”
“Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
“Good point. Never mind.”
“What about you?” he asked. “A pretty girl, living alone. How do you protect yourself?”
“I use the dead bolt whenever I’m home. And I have a can of mace in my purse whenever I’m out.”
“You should keep the mace by your bed at night, too.”
She hesitated, then nodded. “Good advice. Thanks.”
Her attention was attracted by a group of yellow self-adhesive notes he had attached in a row to the nearby wall. It appeared to be some sort of timeline.
His gaze tracked hers. “That’s my system. Must look pretty lame to an organizational genius like you, but it works for me.”
“Those look like Angel of Mercy notes. Shouldn’t we be concentrating on Gia’s murder?”
“They’re interrelated.”
“So you admit it’s possible that the Angel of Mercy killed Gia?”
Justin