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Chapter One “Jess? Heads up there, kiddo. We’re back to you in five,” Kevin held up his right hand and went silent for the rest of the count. Four, three, two, one … Jessica Sunshine, her professional stone face in place, waited a single heartbeat after the weekend producer pointed a finger at her and then smiled into the camera as if delighted to see her cable TV audience. “And welcome back,” she said smoothly, pushing a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear. “Again, tonight’s special live segment of The Sunshine Report is devoted to this reporter’s personal tragedy, the loss of my father, retired police detective Theodore Sunshine, and the accusation that he murdered the wife of front-running Philadelphia mayoral candidate Joshua Brainard before taking his own life. And I’m here to tell you, folks, that accusation’s a bunch of horse hockey pucks.” Jessica ignored the audible intake of breath from her sister Jolie, seated in the only other chair on the small carpeted dais that looked good on TV but was really threadbare in spots and still held a stain caused by Chickpea the Clown when he’d lost his three martini lunch during his interview with her last month. Confront a guy in white face with photographs of him buying a nickel bag behind the dumpster outside the studio between filming a week’s worth of his popular kiddie show and you just don’t know what will happen. “That sound you just heard,” Jessica continued, “was that of my big sister, Hollywood star and general all-round good person, Jolie Sunshine, being horrified by her baby sister yet again, showing that those Birth Order studies are true — the baby of the family is often the most prone to making waves. I don’t know why they’re shocked, either striving middle child Jolie or our perfect first born sister, Jade. I mean, really folks, you’re not shocked, right? And you’ve only known me for two years. They’ve known me forever. Jolie,” she said, swiveling her chair to face her sister, certain the camera would follow her, “do you disagree with anything I said?” Jolie Sunshine — slim, tall, brunette and looking coolly beautiful and at ease in front of the camera — tipped her head to one side. “You mean, am I shocked? Hardly. Not when I spent several years answering the phone only to be asked if the mouth was at home.” Jessica laughed as she tossed back her hair once more. Jessica’s greatest on-air assets were her spectacular good looks; a face and body that could have helped her if, like Jolie, she had set her sights on Hollywood. Luckily, as she pursued a career in television journalism, she also brought along a sharp-as-tacks brain and more guts than most of the men in her professional orbit. She just had never embraced the politics of news reporting, and didn’t suffer fools gladly, which was why she was only tonight coming off a two-week on-air suspension for asking the wrong question of one of the targets of her always penetrating interviews. In fact, if she hadn’t been able to deliver Jolie for her show, that suspension might have become permanent. But, to Jessica, that was only a piddling little technicality, and she wasn’t about to change the way she worked … or did her bosses really think she should have been happy being the weekend weather girl she’d been before she gotten her own show? With a last name like Sunshine, that gig had been pretty much of a joke, anyway. “The mouth? Ouch! Haven’t heard that one in a while. Gee, thanks, sis. Now I suppose I’m going to have to live that nickname down all over again.” As quickly as she had laughed, Jessica sobered. “Okay, that was fun, a bit of tension-easing, I guess you’d say. But let’s get back to the reason you’re here tonight, Jolie, the reason we’re both here. Do you mind if I give a quick recap for anyone who might just be joining us?” Jolie spread her hands in the graceful, eloquent way that kept every eye riveted on her when she was up on the screen at the local multi-plex. “Go for it.” Jessica turned once more to look intently into the camera, her huge brown eyes reaching beyond the lense, to make everyone munching corn chips while watching at home sit up and pay attention, knowing she was speaking directly to them. She took a steadying breath as she collected her thoughts, and then went for it. “When Teddy died, we all were devastated. But our grief turned to anger when he was denied the departmental funeral he so deserved, when his name was connected to the murder of Melodie Brainard. You see, before he was injured on the job and retired to head up the Sunshine Detective Agency with our sister Jade, Teddy had been one of Philadelphia’s finest for close to thirty years. He’d earned his detective’s shield and worked the homicide table, and had one of the highest clearance rates in the department — meaning, he took a lot of killers off the streets. He was good at what he did. He was damn good.” “Steady, Jess,” Jolie whispered, and Jessica took hold of her sister’s hand as the camera panned back to show the gesture. Good television; this was good television. Cable television, where a reporter could bend the rules when her name headlined the show. The part of Jessica that operated for the public knew that. The rest of her could have a good cry later, once she was alone. For now, she’d play the camera. “Okay, that’s the recap. Now on to what we’re here about tonight. Teddy was so good, so dedicated to bringing criminals to justice, that he continued to investigate cold cases even after he left the force, all of them about a dozen years old, cases he had worked on and had not solved. Those cases, those victims, ate at him, haunted him, and he longed to give them justice. Isn’t that right, Jolie?” “Our father always believed he stood for the victims, yes. And for their families, who wanted closure. Deserved closure.” “Right. He was working on four cold cases in the weeks before he died. We believe what Teddy learned about one of those cases is the reason he was murdered. Yes, murdered, with that murder made to look like a suicide. Tonight, I’m happy to report that Jolie Sunshine and her fiancé, Samuel Becket, have brought one of those cold cases to a conclusion. We’ll talk more about what has been called the case of the Vanishing Bride in our next segment, but for now I want to tell you about the other three cases we’re currently working.” She squeezed Jolie’s hand. “Yes, that’s what I said. The cases we’re working. Jade, Jolie and I are picking up the pieces Teddy left behind, and we will solve these cases. We will find answers. We will clear our father’s name. But we need your help. We’ve prepared a quick summary listing of the cases we’re working on, and I ask that you also pay attention to the phone number that’s been scrolling along the bottom of the screen the whole time I’ve been sitting here bending your ears. Kevin? Are the cases up now? Good man, thank you.” Jessica looked toward a monitor to the left of the dais, to check the order of the cases on the screen. “Ah, I like the way you handled that graphic, Kevin, thank you. See the line through the Vanishing Bride case, folks? That’s our solved case Jolie will tell you about shortly. It’s quite a story! Next up is the Fishtown Strangler. I’m working that one,” she said, allowing some pride into her voice. “Six women were raped and strangled in the Fishtown area of Philadelphia twelve years ago and the case remains open. No big surprise there, as the victims were all ladies of the evening, shall we say, and public interest in such cases dies in a hurry. It shouldn’t. Murder is murder.” “No humans involved,” Jolie interjected quietly. “Isn’t that what you heard such cases are considered by so many, and how the victims are relegated to persons of no worth? I hate that. Everything about us that is human should hate that.” Jessica wanted to hug her sister. “That’s why I’m so determined to solve this case, Jolie. Everyone counts. Next up is a very sad case, that of the senseless shooting death of a well-known Scholar Athlete, Terrell Johnson. Terrell’s body was found on an inner-city Philadelphia basketball court, a bullet in his head. Again, no suspects. And, finally, a story that captured not only the heart of Philadelphia but of the entire country, the case of the Baby In The Dumpster. On your screen now is a forensic artist’s computer generated projection of what that precious boy would have looked like today had his life not been taken, his little body tossed into a dumpster like someone’s unwanted garbage. God, that one gets to me. They all get to me.” Jessica’s eyes were moist as she looked at the computer image and she didn’t bother hiding her emotional response when the red light reappeared on the camera drawn up close to her. “We’re not super heroes, my sisters and me. We’re not vigilantes, and we’re not crusaders. What we are, my friends, is hurting, what we will continue to be until Teddy’s name is cleared is mad as hell. And what we’re not going to do is quit. Right, Jolie?” “Right, Jessica,” Jolie said, looking into the camera. “Our father is a victim, and like him, we’re determined to stand for the victim.” “Good one, Jolie. So, my friends, my loyal viewers, again I’m asking for your help. Something in one of these cases led to Teddy Sunshine’s murder. He scraped a nerve somewhere, and paid with his life. We’re asking for you to contact us through that phone number still crawling by at the bottom of the screen. You can remain anonymous if you wish. Just call us and, as the saying goes, leave a message at the beep. One of the Sunshine Girls, Jolie, Jade, or myself, will personally return your call, I promise.” She paused, closed her eyes for a count of three, and then looked once more into the camera. She thought she could feel her skin drawing tight across her cheekbones as she spoke from the depths of her soul. “And you. You out there, the person who framed Teddy and then murdered him to protect your own crime. Don’t rest, don’t sleep. Don’t relax for a moment. Because we’re coming for you. You can depend on it.” Jessica mentally counted to three yet again, her gaze intent on the camera lens, before ending quickly as she slowly turned her head away from the camera in her signature go-to-break move, “We’ll be back in two minutes for more of my exclusive interview with Jolie Sunshine.” Jessica kept her profile to the camera until Ben called out, “And we’re clear! Great, Jess, just terrific.” “Sure, he thinks so,” Jolie said, sighing. “He’s thinking great TV. I’m thinking — and I know everyone else is thinking — why not just paint huge red and white targets on our backs? Cripes, Jess, working on the assumption, of course, that we’re right about this, you just invited Teddy’s killer to come gunning for us, like we’re looking for some shootout in the OK Corral, or something. You didn’t tell me you were going to get so personal. You certainly didn’t tell me you were setting up some sort of hot line so that anyone who wants to can kill time calling us to — well, I don’t know what sort of calls we’re going to get, but I’m not very hopeful any of them will mean anything. And with me leaving for the coast with Sam tonight, and then for Ireland in two weeks? We’ll be filming on site for at least two months. I won’t even be here to help.” “Relax, big sister, nobody’s going to come gunning for us,” Jessica assured her. “That only happens in bad movies. Besides, now that we’ve declared ourselves, if any of us shows up dead the police will know we were onto something.” “Gosh, and that would prove we were right, wouldn’t it? How brilliant. Why didn’t I think of that?” Jolie said, rolling her eyes. “Are you nuts?” Jessica tilted up her chin as Marge the makeup artist patted some color onto her cheeks. “I think the jury’s still out on that one. When are you and Sam taking off? Do you have time for a quick dinner with Matt and me once this is over? I’m really jazzed, and being jazzed always makes me hungry.” “Breathing makes you hungry,” groused the woman on a perpetual diet for the cameras. “And no, we’re going straight from here to the airport. Sam’s having a basket of something delivered to the plane from one of his favorite restaurants. Probably something delicious and fattening, as he’s always pushing at me to eat. I have a publicity gang-interview tomorrow night I can’t get out of, unfortunately. And don’t change the subject. Do you really think going public like this is going to help?” “One minute, Jess,” Kevin warned her. “But first tell me something, okay? I get the old cases, those cold cases your dad was working on when he died. But how does Melodie Brainard fit in here? You know, the one they said your dad strangled?” “And there’s the problem. She doesn’t fit,” Jolie told him quietly as Jessica pursed her lips for a quick reapplication of lip gloss. “Does she, Jess?” “Sure, she does. And we’ll figure out how, one of these days. Don’t ask too many questions, Kevin,” Jessica told him with a bravado she didn’t feel. “Just be glad I could pull Joshua Brainard’s name into the telecast, okay? We’re going to get a lot of follow-up with this one — sex, murder, politics, the big three. Cable and network, at least in the tri-state area. So don’t look gift horses in the snout. Ready, Jolie? Now, what was the name of your new movie, again? What’s a sister for, if she can’t give her sister a plug? I mean, that is how I got you to do this interview in the first place.” “In a minute. Uh, Jess? Did you happen to look over there, to where Matt’s standing?” Jolie asked quietly, her hand held over the small mike clipped to her blouse. “No, don’t look. Lord, his face is red. I think he’s about to explode.” Jessica kept her back firmly turned to Philadelphia homicide detective Lieutenant Matthew Denby, who had volunteered to help them with Teddy’s cold cases and who had, against her wishes, put himself in the role of her partner and protector. “Good. Then maybe he’ll go away, stop dogging my every footstep and second-guessing my every idea.” “Jess, your mike’s live,” Jolie whispered, shaking her head. “He heard you.” “Oops,” Jessica said, grinning, as she’d known darn well Matt would hear her. “Did I also mention that he has a lousy attitude about the media, even for a cop, that he has absolutely no sense of humor, and that he’s old as dirt and is going to have a coronary any day now if the empty fast food bags in his Jeep are all his?” “No, you hadn’t mentioned any of that,” Jolie said dully, removing her hand from her mike. “Where’s Sam? Man, all of a sudden our plane can’t take off soon enough …” # “Sorry, but I had to go outside to take that call. So,” Sam Becket whispered, rejoining Matt in a dark corner of the large studio as the interview went on thirty feet away, “what did I miss?” “Trust me, you don’t want to know,” Matt told him, not taking his gaze, his fairly hot gaze, off Jessica’s back. “But if I kill her, there’s not a jury in this world that would convict me.” “Uh-oh. Don’t tell me she brought your name into this. She promised not to get you in trouble.” “Oh no, she didn’t do that. As far as the Department is concerned I’m still on vacation, and nobody knows I’m helping you guys. I liked Teddy, I really did. I respected him, both as a cop and as a man. But, damn, how did he let Jessica grow up to be so … so …” “Independent … impulsive … smart-mouthed … gorgeous…?” Sam offered, grinning. “Yeah, that. All of it,” Matt admitted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his khaki slacks. “I thought I was getting used to her after these last few days, but she just topped herself. She set up a hot line for tips on the cold cases. Right after she dared the killer to try to stop them from uncovering his or her identity. And you know what, Sam?” he asked, turning to look at Jolie’s fiancé and his new friend. “She has no freaking idea what a disaster she just unleashed on all of us. None. Or, worse, she does, and she doesn’t care.” “My vote is for the latter,” Sam told him, sighing as he looked toward Jolie. “I’m glad I offered my house to the girls for the duration. If you want, you’re welcome to stay there, too, and save yourself running back and forth every time Jess decides it’s time to dress up like a hooker and do a little investigating on some seedy street corner at midnight.” Matt actually felt embarrassed color run up into his cheeks. He didn’t want to know if that embarrassment was for Jessica, who already had pulled that potentially dangerous stunt, or for himself, as he was pretty sure he’d see the way she’d looked in her short skirt and plunging blouse in his dreams for a long time. “She promised not to do that again. Although I have to tell you, she makes a damn good-looking hooker. The funny thing is, we actually got a call from one of the working girls she met that night. We’ve now got another address on Tarin White, the second-to-last victim. I hate telling Jess, though, because she’s going to gloat. “Count on it. Look, Matt, I’ve got the perimeter walls, the Bear Man and his wrestling pals at the gate, and a top of the line security system. I’ll be with Jolie in Hollywood for two weeks, not that there isn’t plenty of room for everyone. We’ve been lucky so far, but if the girls are right and they could be flushing someone out of the woodwork, I’d rather Jessica and Jade, at the very least, are taking the proper precautions. Besides, Court will be there.” “You know, for a moment there, watching the phone number crawl across the screen the way it is now, I thought about your cousin. I may have to keep him from strangling Jessica.” “Why?” Sam looked toward the closest monitor. “What number did Jess — holy crap. That’s Jade’s cell number, isn’t it?" “Yup,” Matt said, sort of rocking on his heels now, because it was good to know that he wasn’t overreacting, that Jessica Sunshine truly was a pain in the neck— and parts south. “This is going out live, right?” Sam said, shaking his head. “No way to stop it? I’d better call Court in case he’s not watching, give him and Jade both a heads-up. I’ll be right back.” Matt watched Sam Becket head for the hallway once more, already pulling his cell phone from his jacket pocket. As of a few days ago, he’d never met Sam or his cousin Court Becket, had never met Jade or Jolie or Jessica. He wouldn’t know any of them now, if someone hadn’t tried to burn down Teddy Sunshine’s house. He’d been on his way to offer his condolences to the daughters on Teddy’s death when the call came in about the fire, about Jade being caught in it. That in itself might have been enough to set his homicide detective senses tingling, the arson. But he still had to ask himself how much was his concern for truth, justice and the American Way, and how much of his interest had to do with his sharp, physical reaction when he first saw Jessica Sunshine. She was too young for him. She was too beautiful for him. She was a pain in the ass. A major pain in his ass. God, she was beautiful. And so obviously hurting. So, instead of walking away, he’d put in for some vacation time and joined the Sunshine girls and the Becket cousins in this stupid, hair-brained, potentially dangerous crusade to solve Teddy’s old cases and discover who murdered Melodie Brainard — all while privately hoping to hell that Teddy hadn’t really done the crime, and then eaten his police revolver. At least some of the reason for his involvement was logical, damn it. He’d been the primary on the Brainard murder, until someone got to the brass upstairs and pulled him off it. That had pissed Matt off, definitely. The unholy rush to declare the dead Teddy Sunshine Melodie Brainard’s murderer had also pissed him off. Teddy had been one of them for a lot of years; he’d deserved better. If the department called the murder and suicide closed cases there was little Matt could do to try to keep the cases active. Not on duty, anyway, not if he didn’t want to end up on foot patrol down at the docks. Working the cases on his own, on his own time, had been the reasonable answer. Pairing up with others with the same mindset had bordered on logical, except for the fact that he was dealing with rank amateurs. Amateurs, he reminded himself, who had already cracked the case of the Vanishing Bride, although Teddy had done most of the legwork before his death. Now Jolie and Sam, lovers years ago and lovers again, were on their way out of town, leaving Jade and Court and Matt and Jessica behind to work the cold cases from Sam’s mansion: Command Central. Maybe he should move in for the duration, Matt thought, looking across the studio to see that they’d gone to commercial yet again, and Jolie and Jessica seemed to be locked in a fierce battle of whispers. Something was up, or Jessica wouldn’t have covered her mike. The three sisters loved each other, that was clear. But, cripes, could they fight. Teddy had raised three strong-minded daughters. Jolie had, Matt had learned, gone to Hollywood after giving Sam’s ring back to him, to prove she could make it in the movies. And she had done it, become a star. Jade had stuck with Teddy at the Sunshine Detective Agency, even after her marriage to Court and even after being shot at, so that Court had handed her an ultimatum: the job, or the marriage. They’d been divorced for over a year. Yes, strong women. Stubborn, headstrong women. And maybe Jessica was the strongest of them all, because she had battled her way from local weather girl to having her own weekly show on cable, living the life of an investigative reporter, actually being taken seriously in such a male-dominated arena. Matt hated reporters. That came with the territory: cops and reporters were natural-born enemies. Bringing him back, yet again, to why he was standing here, watching Jessica throw another firecracker onto the fire, and not walking away, saving himself and maybe his job. “Well, that was fun,” Sam said, standing next to Matt once more, even though Matt hadn’t heard him approach. “I didn’t tell them anything they didn’t already know. So far, Jade’s fielded six calls for Jessica and twice that for Jolie. Now everything is going to voicemail.” “And nothing substantial in any of the calls, right?” “That depends on whether or not Jess or Jolie might be interested in three proposals of marriage, an invitation to perform at Grampa Somebody-or-other’s ninetieth birthday party, and one fairly obscene proposition that Jade is thinking of forwarding on to the police.” “And the nuts have barely begun to drop down from the trees,” Matt said, caught between a grin and outright disgust. “To tell you the truth, I think Jade sounded a little upset that no one wanted to talk to her.” “And everyone tells me she’s the logical one.” Matt looked toward the set to see that both women were unpinning their lapel mikes. “Looks like it’s over. You two have time for dinner?” “Thanks, but no,” Sam told him as Jolie walked toward him, his attention clearly shifting to the woman who appeared to be looking at him as if he was her only safe port in a storm. She was waylaid by a few of the crewmembers, asked to sign autographs, and complied with her patented Jolie Sunshine smile. “We really want to get in the air. You going to move in? Really, I think it would be a good idea.” “Yeah, I think I will, thanks,” Matt said as he watched Jessica thanking her crew, even going up on tiptoe to kiss the guy named Kevin. “And here comes Trouble, smiling like she did something good, and probably expecting a pat on the head. Must be a blonde thing, huh?” “Jess isn’t blonde, not naturally. Remember, I knew her five years ago. Forgive the obvious stereotype, but under that pretty remarkable hair color beats the no-nonsense brain of a brunette. The body, however, Jolie tells me is completely genuine, just in case you might have been wondering about that. Because I’ve seen the way you look at her, Matt, when she’s not aware of it. Forewarned is forearmed, as the saying goes. Jessica’s steel wrapped in velvet, as ambitious as Jolie, as tough-minded as Jade, and as persistent as Teddy.” “Warning taken. But you left out the mother.” “She left herself out, running off when Jessica was not even into her teens, I think. Jade still hasn’t been able to reach her or her husband — who is also Teddy’s brother, if you’re at all interested in bad soap operas. They live in Hawaii, or did the last time she was in contact with any of them. They probably don’t even know Teddy’s dead.” “Jess told me that much, yes. She also considers them both suspects, probably because she’d rather hate her mother than admit to the hurt she felt when the woman deserted them. I’ve put out a few feelers, but nothing’s come back to me yet.” “Nothing’s come back to you on what?” Jessica asked, wiping at her cheeks with a bunch of balled-up tissues and then frowning at the color she’d wiped from her skin. “God, Madge was heavy on the blusher tonight. Never mind. If you had anything good you would have told me already. So, what did you think? Great show, right?” “Right. Fantastic.” Matt motioned toward Jolie. “How about you say goodbye now and we get back to Sam’s place so Jade can strangle you?” Jessica’s sherry brown eyes twinkled with amusement. “She’s already getting calls, isn’t she? I was going to put up a special number but there wasn’t time to arrange for one, and the producer refused to put up my cell number as a matter of station policy. Jade’s was the first other number I could remember. I know, I know, I’ve called out the whack-jobs. But all we need is one real call, one good lead, and it will all be worth it. Jade will see that.” She looked at Sam. “Won’t she?” “Let me answer that,” Matt said, and Jessica turned to look at him once more. “In the middle of the Fishtown Strangler case the special Mayoral Taskforce Commission or whatever they called that bunch of politicos out for personal publicity had the bright idea of putting out a public hotline. They even offered a pretty hefty reward for information leading to an arrest and conviction. I brought you copies of the file, Jess, the pertinent parts. What I didn’t bring you were the transcriptions of the calls to that hotline, because I would have had to rent a truck to carry them. From what Sam tells me, Jade’s only gotten crank calls so far, but there will be other calls. People confessing to being our guy, dozens of them. And they all have to be checked out. You just opened the door for any sad, pathetic loser out there, and since we can’t tell who is lying, who’s nuts, and who might even be suicidal, God help us, we now have to check them all out. Still happy?” “Not so much, no,” Jessica admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But all we need is one good lead.” “Keep saying that, and maybe we will get lucky. But I wouldn’t bet your economy-sized bottle of hair color on it.” Jessica whirled about to face Sam, who already had his hands raised protectively. “And they say women gossip. Jeez. Jolie! Come hit your big-mouthed beloved, will you?” Jolie signed one last autograph and then walked over to join her sister, although she aligned herself with Sam, slipping her arm about his waist. “What am I missing?” “Our plane would be the obvious answer, if it wasn’t Court’s plane and waiting for us,” Sam said, pressing a kiss against Jolie’s temple. He then wiped his hand across his mouth. “You taste like makeup.” “I know. But I’d rather not take the time to wipe all of this off and reapply for the cameras that are bound to be waiting for us at the airport. Right, Jessica Marie?” she ended, glaring at her sister. “So I told my audience you and Sam are flying out to the coast tonight by private jet. Big deal. It’s publicity, right? Publicity is a good thing.” “After watching the paparazzi hound me at Teddy’s funeral, how can you say anything so — oh, never mind. You’re just clueless, aren’t you?” Jolie narrowed her eyes. “Or you’ve got some other reason, like maybe you want the Press at the airport?” Jessica rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly, Jolie. I told you, I goofed up. There was no ulterior motive. Although, if you get a chance to slip in somewhere to the national press that you just appeared exclusively on The Sunshine Report, I wouldn’t complain.” “You’re a barracuda in pin-up girl’s clothing,” Jolie accused her, and then sighed. “All right, all right. I’ll give you a plug. But then you owe me. Big time.” “Absolutely. And I’ll pay up, any time you ask.” “I don’t know. This just seems like the female version. We trade Donovan McNabb for Brett Farve, and they trade insults and favors. I think I like the male version better. Come on, Jessica. Time you went back to Sam’s house and faced your sister and her ex. I think they want to talk to you.” “I’ll bet they do,” Jessica said, looking a bit nervous for the first time in Matt’s memory. “Will you come in with me? That way they won’t kill me, not in front of a witness.” “Matt’s going to move in while I’m gone,” Sam said, earning himself a quick hug from Jolie, who seemed to think this was a good idea. “He is?” Jessica looked at Matt. “You are?” Her eyelids narrowed. “Why? Because if you think I need a babysitter, let me remind you that the two of us pairing up was never my idea in the first place. You just slow me down.” “I’m also old, have no sense of humor, and I’m bucking for a coronary. Yes, I heard. But flattery will get you nowhere,” Matt said, taking her arm at the elbow. “Come on, let’s go. We have to stop by my place so I can pack a few things.” “Your place?” Jessica turned to look at her sister, pulling a face of mock horror. “Are you going to invite me up to see your etchings? That’s what dirty old men used to say back in the last century, isn’t it, to lure innocent young things to their lairs? What do you think, sis? Should I go with him?” “I’d say no, but that’s just because I like him,” Jolie said, winking at Matt. “Go, Jessica. And behave.” Jessica kissed her sister goodbye. “And what fun would that be?” she whispered, but Matt overheard her. He fished in his pocket for the keys to his ragtop Jeep, shook hands with Sam once they’d reached the parking lot, and left Jessica to open her own car door. Because they might be reluctant partners, but tonight was not a date. You open the car door for a date, but not for a partner. Now to figure out who the gesture had been meant to convince, Jessica, or himself … -------------------------- Order Mischief Becomes Her online at Amazon.com or at BarnesandNoble.com (In Australia? Order online at www.rendezvousbooks.com) The first novel in the Sunshine Girls series: |
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1999-2010 Kasey Michaels. Email Kasey: kasey@kaseymichaels.com
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