Read Online A Taste of Sin by Jennifer L. Jennings, Vicki Lorist - Free Book Online Page A

you want me to wait here?”
    “Go home. Looks like I’ve made a mistake.”
    “Roger that.”
     

Chapter 12
     
    Boston’s Logan Airport—a labyrinth of mass proportions—was packed with cars, buses, and taxis when I pulled into the United Airlines arrivals gate. Max stood out in the crowd of weary travelers. He smiled when he spotted my car, squeezed into a small opening by the curb.
    “You look surprisingly cheerful after spending six hours on a plane,” I told him when he got in.
    He kissed me hard on the lips.  “I missed you.”
    “I missed you, too. Now let’s get out of here before that monster truck mows us over.”
    “Want me to drive?” he asked. “I remember the last time you tried to get us out of Boston.”
    “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I teased, letting him take the driver’s seat. “So, does that mean you don’t enjoy getting lost for hours in traffic?”
    “Not as much as I love getting side-swiped by a lousy driver.”
    “Good point.”
     
    Thanks to Max, we made it back to Bridgeport in record time, with an hour to spare. We stopped at his house to grab the necessary equipment for the job, then ate a quick lunch on our way to Emily’s house.
    “I really appreciate you doing this,” I said, when we pulled into her driveway.
    “I could do this job with my eyes closed.” Max grabbed a duffel bag from the back seat and we headed to the front door.
    “Nice place they have here,” Max said, looking around. “Must keep their landscaper busy.”
    He was right. The same red truck was parked out front and the same young man was raking dead leaves.
    Why would the Hodges’ spend so much money on property maintenance? It was fairly obvious they were going to lose the house.
    I rang the doorbell and we waited for what seemed like a full minute. “Maybe she’s in the shower,” Max said.
    “I told her we were coming.”
    I rang the doorbell a second time and knocked again. Finally, the door opened and Emily appeared in the doorway.
    “I am so sorry,” she said, out of breath. “I was resting on the couch. I must have fallen asleep.”
    “Emily, I’d like to introduce you to Max Stevens.”
    She regarded him with a faint smile. “The surveillance expert, I hear.”
    Max—always the one to downplay that moniker—smiled humbly. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Hodges.”
    “Emily,” she said. “Please come in.”
    Max got right to work, inspecting the kitchen for strategic hiding spots that would provide ideal camera angles.
    Emily took a seat at the table to watch. I couldn’t blame her for wanting to keep her eye on him; most women did.
    “So,” she said, finally peeling her gaze away from Max. A worried look clouded her features. “How does this work once the equipment is in place?”
    “The live feed from the cameras will automatically be recorded by a program we can access at any point via laptop.”
    “So, Paul won’t be able to see the cameras, right?”
    “Correct,” I reminded her. “That’s the point.”
    “Will you be able to hear conversations?”
    “No. These particular cameras aren’t equipped with microphones.”
    Emily nodded, lips slightly pursed. “So, what happens next?”
    “Just go about your normal routine and pretend everything is fine.”
    The expression on her face suggested she was uncomfortable with the whole thing. “So, what should I do in the meantime?” she asked.
    “We’ll keep a close eye on the surveillance tonight when Paul gets home from work. If we believe he has doctored your beverage, we will call you first, then contact the police and submit the tapes as evidence. It might be a good idea to keep the tea just in case the lab wants to test it.”
    Emily nodded slowly as she placed both palms on her knees for support.
    “Can I get something for you?” I asked. “Water?”
    She raised her left hand to object. “I’m fine. I just get dizzy sometimes.”
    “Have you talked to your parents recently?” I’d been