Real life crime solving can certainly put a damper on a romance.
When the biggest gossip in Newburg, Indiana ends up dead—with Sam Arnold’s dad the prime suspect—stuff gets real. It’s been a month and a half since she helped bring down a bad guy. It’s time to try her hand at a new case, especially since her boyfriend is out of town. Special Agent Mitchell has been saddled with a sexy, driven partner. Cutting corners or covering shortcuts with charm doesn’t work on her. He misses brainstorming with Sam, and now that her dad’s reputation is on the line, the pressure’s on. Evading his watchdog--and snooze-fest new assignment--is top priority. Time’s running out for Sam and Mitchell to solve the crime. His new partner’s special interest puts their romance in jeopardy and tries the relationship's trust, but an unlikely killer puts life into perspective.
Angie, the daytime chef and owner for The Café, huffed over the line. "It's about time you answered. I've been calling non-stop for thirty minutes."
"Sorry. I'm trying to tidy up this pigsty. And my dad's missing."
"That's because he's over here. It's why I've been calling." Her no-nonsense tone held a troubled edge. "I think you should get down here right away." Angie had owned the café for twenty years. It was one of the longest surviving businesses in the tiny dollop of a business district in Newburg. "I take it you didn't listen to your messages?"
"No." Sam pulled the phone away long enough to see the little icon at the top of her display that indicated voicemail. She put the device back to her ear. "Just tell me what's going on. Did Dad hurt himself? Did he forget his wallet again?" That was a daily occurrence, prompting Sam to pay his tab when she clocked out on those days. She hoped her mom was enjoying the vacation from her dad, because he was going back at the first opportunity. He was. No more excuses.
"As far as I know he's not hurt, but then, I haven't examined him closely enough. I don't even know if I should have him wash off his hands in case there's evidence." The information, delivered in Angie's graveled voice, took on a sinister tone. "I mean, it is a crime scene, after all." That she'd tacked the last on deflated the rest of Sam's good mood.
"What?" Her pulse kicked up. She leaned her back against the front door as her knees shook. "What do you mean a crime scene?" Her words came out on a whisper. "What the heck happened?"
"Like I said, you'd better get down here. I don't think I can properly convey the whole thing over the phone. You need to see it for yourself."
"Is...?" Sam licked her lips. She forced a swallow through a suddenly tight throat. "Is Dad still alive?" Her head spun. It wasn't every day her father and the words "crime scene" came up in conversation. But then, she wouldn't put anything past her father, especially after that whole thing with the thugs and the bad agent fiasco of July.
"Of course he's alive!" Angie snorted. "If he wasn't, I'd have told you that right up front. Now, get down here. And he's complaining like there's no tomorrow." The line went dead. One good thing about her boss was she didn't mince words. Except, when Sam needed way more details than the other woman had been willing to divulge.
Sam clutched her smartphone to her chest. So, her dad wasn't dead, but he was a part of a crime scene? Was he the victim or the perp? Her heartbeat thrummed through her veins. A headache loomed behind her eyes as she scanned her memory for more crime terms. She shook her head then wiped her free hand on her jeans. Okay. No reason to panic. It's probably just a little misunderstanding. She'd go down to the café and straighten everything out then drag her dad back and read him the riot act.
No problem.
Sandra Sookoo is a bestselling author who firmly believes every person deserves acceptance and a happy ending. Most days you can find her creating scandal and mischief in the Regency-era, serendipity and happenstance in Victorian America or snarky humor in the contemporary world. Reading romance is a lot like eating fine chocolates—you can’t just have one. Good thing books don’t have calories!
When she’s not wearing out computer keyboards, Sandra spends time with her real life Prince Charming in central Indiana where she’s been known to goof off and make moments count because the key to life is laughter. A Disney fan since the age of ten, when her soul gets bogged down and her imagination flags, a trip to Walt Disney World is in order. Nothing fuels her dreams more than the land of eternal happy endings, hope and love stories.
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