by MJ O'Neill
“They have a scholarship,” Burns said with a grin as I opened the pamphlet. His smile faded as he looked up at me. “I want you to know, in case you were unsure, I never would have let anything happen to your grand. Flynn had Chentinko in his sights the whole time and wouldn’t have hesitated to drop the bastard if he even flinched wrong.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“I just kept thinking that with enough time, we could find a way to have both your grand and the laptop.”
“What will you do now?” I asked. “Wasn’t that laptop your only lead?”
“I’m not sure, but something will turn up. Every time I’ve hit a dead end, the universe has given me something. Last time, I got you,” he said, tugging one of my curls.
I put the pamphlet in my bag.
“How are you really doing?” He looked at me more intently now, a flash of concern pinching at his temples.
“I’m only able to sleep if Grand’s in the bed with me.”
“It will fade, Kat. Give yourself some space. And for what it’s worth, I don’t believe you’re a mob princess.”
“I guess I don’t either. And that’s something too,” I said. I picked up a drink and raised my glass in a toast. “In all of this, in all of my indecision, that’s the one thing I feel certain of. Clarke Waters did not work for the mob. I don’t care what the missile launch codes say.” I took a big swig. “You think little old Claude works for Simon ‘The Mole’?” It made sense that they would have Chentinko killed to shut him up. It was laughable to think of Claude as their chosen hit man.
“No,” Burns said with a chuckle, “but I’m not sure I buy that little old Claude went mental either or shot Chentinko in some fit of revenge for your grand.”
“Me either, but that’s one more thing that doesn’t fit. One more screwed-up thing in this whole mess.”
“I noticed your mom has mysteriously been hired by none other than Charles Montgomery.”
“She’s now head of event planning for his charitable foundation. Isn’t that convenient and interesting?”
“Hmm.” He nodded. “Speaking of events...” He eyed me over his glass.
I’d seen that look before.
“You having any more dinners with Fletcher Reid?”
“Why? Would you care?”
“Maybe.”
I grinned. “Then maybe it’s only a one-time thing. Honestly, with things with Dad and now Claude, I almost feel like I’m being disloyal whenever I’m with him.”
“Good,” he said with a smirk.
We finished eating, and Burns left. I’d had enough of social interaction and headed out past the protesters into the parking lot. I just wanted to climb back under my covers. The ring of my phone startled me. I didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello,” I said, curious.
“Hello, Katherine.”
Another Russian accent. Great. “Who is this?”
“You can call me Simon.”
I knew only one Simon who was Russian—The Mole. My heart raced.
“How did you get this number?”
“You’ll find that I’m very resourceful. I thought it was time for us to get to know each other better. First, I thought I should apologize for the unfortunate series of events. You never should have been involved in such a distasteful matter. Victor was unwell.”
“Thank you. Yes, he was.”
“But I understand he will no longer be a worry for you.”
Panic swept through me as I tried to decipher his meaning. I wondered whether he’d had Victor killed or if perhaps Claude had worked for him.
“I wish we could be introduced under different circumstances, but unfortunately, you have something of mine that I need.”
“The laptop did a giant belly flop into the Mississippi.”
“I’m aware of the outcome of your last business transaction. It is regrettable, but I’m not concerned with the laptop. We have other systems that will cover things.”
So another system did exist. But if that wasn’t what he wanted, I wondered what on earth he did want.
“It’s beautiful out this time of year, isn’t it? Perhaps we can take a walk on the riverfront together very soon. I’ll be back in touch. Goodbye, Katherine.”
And with that, he hung up.
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Did you love The Corpse Wore Stilettos? Then you should read Emeralds and Envy by Angela McRae!
Emma Madison loves junkin' for old baubles to turn into dazzling new creations, and launching her new career as a jewelry designer in the small town of Roseland, Georgia, is a dream come true. After making out like a bandit at a garage sale one morning, Emma goes to the Silver Squirrel antiques shop to share her fabulous finds with a fellow jewelry lover. She's shocked to learn that a salesclerk friend, Tina, has just been found murdered.
When the police can't get any firm leads, Emma decides to use her newspaper reporting experience to assist them. According to the local gossip mill, not everyone in town liked Tina, including her two siblings. Soon, the list of suspects is longer than a strand of opera pearls.
Someone is trying to stop Emma from helping, even going so far as to threaten her new business. While eager to get back to making jewelry, Emma is determined to find the person responsible for Tina's death, even if that means coming face-to-face with the killer.
Read more at Angela McRae’s site.
About the Author
The owner of a boutique chocolate factory in Atlanta, MJ O’Neill loves to write lighthearted, romantic mysteries with a sweet twist. She has a degree in business communications from North Carolina State University. Through creative endeavors in her IT career, she has written everything from technical manuals to corporate blogs, and as a certified project manager, MJ is sure everyone’s life needs a project plan!
MJ has recently survived transplanting from the Midwest, where she was raised, and is now soaking up the Southern hospitality of Atlanta, Georgia. When she’s not spinning a sweet yarn or creating delicious confections, she spends time with her husband, Brian, their kids, who range in age from 24 to 7, a hyperactive cocker spaniel named Divo (after the band), a princess tabby cat named Twilight (before the book stole her name), and a collection of stray fish. The whole gang can be found tooling around the back roads of the South in their RV, where MJ uses the downtime to hatch her next sweet plot.
Read more at MJ O'Neill’s site.
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