Read Online Bad Bones (Claire Morgan) by Linda Ladd - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Linda Ladd
Ads: Link
the tub with them, either. Not after their little romp last night. “Okay, just remember what we’re here for. Somebody around here might’ve beaten that poor kid to death, possibly with various and sundry deadly weapons. The perpetrator could very well be inside. Don’t start anything. They’re bruisers and trained fighters, and we’re too cold to be on top of our game.”
Bud looked at her, highly incredulous. “Me, start things? Ha! You’re the one who usually throws the first punch.”
“C’mon, I only do that when I have to. And I can tell you right now. I’m not going to incite some ultimate fighters into a bout of fisticuffs. I’m not that dumb, and I don’t want to have to shoot anybody this early in the case.”
“Hey, I know. Just hit ’em with that big ring Nick gave you. That oughta put out their lights, if the glare doesn’t blind them first.” Bud laughed at his own cleverness. “Maybe we shoulda brought along a Brink’s truck to keep it safe.”
“Ha-ha. You’re just jealous, is all.” But Claire shouldn’t have worn it on her finger. That’s all she’d gotten all day long from her colleagues at the office, jokes about the size of her glaringly giant diamond solitaire engagement ring. She knew better, of course. She’d only put it on her finger that morning in order to please Black, who was surreptitiously watching to see where she’d wear it and all the while trying to hide his keen interest, but interested he had been. However, there were limits to how long she could endure being the butt of engagement ring jokes, even good-natured ones. She was quickly reaching hers. The hidden-on-a-chain-around-her-neck idea was sounding better all the time.
Unfortunately, Bud was not finished with his jabs, probably trying to get his mind off the beauteous and newly arrived Brianna. “Yeah, I guess all I need is a rich girlfriend. A female version of Nick, maybe. Now that’s a scenario I could go for. Bud Davis, adored by a filthy rich woman and loved to death in a hot tub. Do I ever like the sound of that, man alive, whoo-hoo.”
Well, that hit pretty damn close to home. “Very funny. And it’s not my money, if you recall. It’s Black’s money. I have to earn a paycheck, just like you do. Long hours, cold hours, cold-blooded murderers, the whole nine yards.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all that before. Hell, I could buy a brand-new house with that rock you’re wearing. Or a brand-new designer wardrobe. Something Italian maybe. Outta Milan. Oh, yeah, Milan duds. That’s what I’d buy first with it, if my rich lady gave me her credit card. And she would.”
“Would you just shut up about the damn ring already, or I’m gonna take it off.”
Bud laughed. “Better not. Nick’ll get mad and not shower you with cash anymore. He might even ban you from his private jet. Oooooh, how could you stand it?”
“Just shut it, would you?” Claire usually just ignored his friendly joshing, almost getting used to it by now. Down deep, though, she didn’t like those kinds of jokes. She usually didn’t like snooty, filthy rich people, either, avoided them like the plague, in fact. But Black was different, sort of. At least he was generous and not stingy and uppity like most of them, and he had earned every dime of the money he had. But she wasn’t rich or entitled or anything else remotely resembling it. She worked hard for a living, just like Bud and Shaggy and Buck and everybody else she knew. Black worked hard for his money, too, damn it.
Thankfully, Bud changed the subject back to work. “Something tells me this isn’t the primo address for the A-list cage fighters that we watch on TV.”
“No kidding.”
“Ever been in this kind of place?”
“Nope. Thank goodness.”
“Okay, take a real deep breath. I think you’re gonna need it once we walk in that door.”
As it turned out, he was dead on. It was steamy hot inside, which was the only good thing about it. It smelled
Bud looked at her, highly incredulous. “Me, start things? Ha! You’re the one who usually throws the first punch.”
“C’mon, I only do that when I have to. And I can tell you right now. I’m not going to incite some ultimate fighters into a bout of fisticuffs. I’m not that dumb, and I don’t want to have to shoot anybody this early in the case.”
“Hey, I know. Just hit ’em with that big ring Nick gave you. That oughta put out their lights, if the glare doesn’t blind them first.” Bud laughed at his own cleverness. “Maybe we shoulda brought along a Brink’s truck to keep it safe.”
“Ha-ha. You’re just jealous, is all.” But Claire shouldn’t have worn it on her finger. That’s all she’d gotten all day long from her colleagues at the office, jokes about the size of her glaringly giant diamond solitaire engagement ring. She knew better, of course. She’d only put it on her finger that morning in order to please Black, who was surreptitiously watching to see where she’d wear it and all the while trying to hide his keen interest, but interested he had been. However, there were limits to how long she could endure being the butt of engagement ring jokes, even good-natured ones. She was quickly reaching hers. The hidden-on-a-chain-around-her-neck idea was sounding better all the time.
Unfortunately, Bud was not finished with his jabs, probably trying to get his mind off the beauteous and newly arrived Brianna. “Yeah, I guess all I need is a rich girlfriend. A female version of Nick, maybe. Now that’s a scenario I could go for. Bud Davis, adored by a filthy rich woman and loved to death in a hot tub. Do I ever like the sound of that, man alive, whoo-hoo.”
Well, that hit pretty damn close to home. “Very funny. And it’s not my money, if you recall. It’s Black’s money. I have to earn a paycheck, just like you do. Long hours, cold hours, cold-blooded murderers, the whole nine yards.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard all that before. Hell, I could buy a brand-new house with that rock you’re wearing. Or a brand-new designer wardrobe. Something Italian maybe. Outta Milan. Oh, yeah, Milan duds. That’s what I’d buy first with it, if my rich lady gave me her credit card. And she would.”
“Would you just shut up about the damn ring already, or I’m gonna take it off.”
Bud laughed. “Better not. Nick’ll get mad and not shower you with cash anymore. He might even ban you from his private jet. Oooooh, how could you stand it?”
“Just shut it, would you?” Claire usually just ignored his friendly joshing, almost getting used to it by now. Down deep, though, she didn’t like those kinds of jokes. She usually didn’t like snooty, filthy rich people, either, avoided them like the plague, in fact. But Black was different, sort of. At least he was generous and not stingy and uppity like most of them, and he had earned every dime of the money he had. But she wasn’t rich or entitled or anything else remotely resembling it. She worked hard for a living, just like Bud and Shaggy and Buck and everybody else she knew. Black worked hard for his money, too, damn it.
Thankfully, Bud changed the subject back to work. “Something tells me this isn’t the primo address for the A-list cage fighters that we watch on TV.”
“No kidding.”
“Ever been in this kind of place?”
“Nope. Thank goodness.”
“Okay, take a real deep breath. I think you’re gonna need it once we walk in that door.”
As it turned out, he was dead on. It was steamy hot inside, which was the only good thing about it. It smelled
Similar Books
