Harlequin Romantic Suspense April 2021 Karen Whiddon (best fiction books to read TXT) 📖

the apartment hallway, told one that he was waiting ‘on an appointment.’ But when word got out that there was a mugging going down, he took off. No one’s heard from him and my bet is he won’t risk coming back home for a good while. He might think that whoever went after you would come for him next.”

“That sounds like a good assumption.” Goose bumps rose on Stanton’s forearms. He was glad that she had been correct, but more relieved that Dominique hadn’t been hurt worse. The cartel wasn’t in the business of scare tactics as much as flat-out murder.

“So it wasn’t a setup by the witness, as you’ve both told me it could have been. My instincts and background work were spot-on. I couldn’t have known in advance that I’d be targeted.” Dominique’s anger reflected in the furrow between her finely shaped brows. His fingertip itched to smooth her concern away. Careful. He tried not to frown at his conscience’s internal prodding. It was a natural reaction to want to eliminate her stress and she’d had a particularly awful day. He checked his phone. It was only three o’clock. Five hours in her presence and his heart was screaming to take over from his brain.

“Except for your provocative social media posts.” Troy held up his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not questioning how you or any other reporter does your business. But if you’re going to dig into a case like Charlie Hamm’s, it’s bigger than any of us sitting here. No question, your interview subject is legit. Johnny Blanchard was the man whose testimony clinched the case against Charlie.” Troy spoke with measured neutrality.

“Along with evidence falsified by a GGPD employee.” She wasn’t holding back any longer.

“If there was any malfeasance by an employee of GGPD, you can be assured we’re working to get to the bottom of it, Dominique.” Troy glanced up at Stanton. They’d been more like brothers as kids and he recognized the silent plea for a helping hand.

“It’s not fair to keep labeling the entire GGPD because of the actions of one, or maybe two, bad players.” Stanton repeated what he’d already said to Dominique earlier, hoping that this time she heard him.

“The Gazette isn’t letting up until we have all the answers, Troy. You can tell the chief that.” Dominique’s arms crossed in front and he knew it had to hurt to sit like that. He’d bruised his ribs in the past and remembered any movement felt like torture.

“That’s fair. It’s your job. And I’ll pass it to Chief Colton, when I run into her. We’re all going pedal to the metal, Dominique.”

“Well, then maybe the Gazette and GGPD do have something in common, after all.”

Stanton silently groaned at Dominique’s words. Did she have to throw down all the time?

And did he have to be so turned on every time she did?

* * *

“What do you mean she got away?” Pablo Jimenez’s eyes were darker than their usual hellish black, and his face was screwed into a menacing scowl. “Your job was to get rid of both of them. Tell me Blanchard is taken care of.”

Leo shuffled on his feet, wanting to look anywhere but at his jefe’s face. But to look away was certain death.

“It was out of my hands. Blanchard took off before I ever arrived, and as I was about to finish her off, I was interrupted by an undercover cop.” He was lying, a bit. Enough. He’d faced the witness and threatened him but he’d slipped away, faster than Leo was on his feet. And Leo had been focused on getting the reporter girl most of all. She’d openly threatened his jefe on the internet.

“What am I paying you for?” A large object, a crystal glass full of hundred-year-old Scotch, flew at him, and he had the sense to remain still, allow the pain to come. Jimenez liked pain, and to avoid the hand-thrown missile only revealed weakness, in the kingpin’s view.

“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re correct, it won’t happen again.” Jimenez withdrew a long blade from his boot and Leo held his breath, certain he was about to meet Dios. “Next time, take more men with you. I want the reporter taken care of, and I should never have trusted that lousy dealer to be Hamm’s witness. What good is it if he testified in court but now wants to spill his guts?” Jimenez spat into another crystal goblet, the amber liquid from his tobacco chew both revolting and mesmerizing to Leo. “Take her out, and the man who came to save her. I don’t care if he’s a cop. This local department refuses to accept who’s in charge here. Me. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go after the reporter’s family next.”

“Yes, jefe.”

No one argued with the jefe, ever. Leo knew his job.

“Go!” Jefe wasn’t a patient man.

* * *

If Dominique hadn’t felt the air leave the room previously, she’d have known by both Stanton’s and Troy’s expressions that she’d overstepped.

“I’m not saying we both do the same kind of work. Certainly you’re on the streets every day, doing your best to keep Grave Gulch safe.” She swallowed, her explanation hanging like the frivolous bunch of words it was. Stanton had returned to staring out the window and Troy looked at her with unabashed annoyance.

Troy stood, pocketed his phone. “I get it. Times are tense in Grave Gulch. It’s worse than I’ve ever seen it. There’s a killer roaming loose—I can’t confirm if you have the correct name—we have internal issues at GGPD and we were slammed by the heroin epidemic. Not to mention some other cases that are popping up faster than the hungry alligators at the State Fair. Again, all of this is off the record. I don’t want to see my words twisted and used as clickbait.”

“Off the record. Got it.” She wanted to explain how clickbait really worked, that she or any other reporter had no pull when it came to