“Leaning back in an ancient wooden chair, he wrapped one of his boots around the leg and focused on the front door of Skipper’s Bar and Grill. Even chilled, it burned his throat as he swallowed, but the liquid fire did nothing to extinguish the guilt assaulting him like a bad migraine. He’d almost lost another partner. He closed his eyes, hoping the alcohol entering his bloodstream would dissolve the stress embedded in his muscles. As he shook his glass, the ice cubes rattled in the empt...iness. He hadn’t found any clues in the sink today. He was getting nowhere fast. Why not give the reporter a real chance to use her investigative skills? The whole idea made him groan. What he needed first was another Grey Goose, but before he could signal the waitress, he spotted Samantha Steele in the doorway. Her dark hair was slicked back in a tight, business-like bun. Of course. She was always inappropriately dressed for the occasion.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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