Read Online Better Read Than Dead by Victoria Laurie - Free Book Online Page A

“I’m not interested in your boyfriend.” Liar, liar, pants on fire . . . “Dutch is my subordinate, and it’s against Bureau policy to date a subordinate. Although, if I were interested in him I’d have plenty of opportunity, given that we’re about to go undercover as a couple, and we’ll be spending pretty much every moment together. In fact, we’re headed out of town this very evening, and we’ll be rooming together—you know, so we can become better acquainted . . . .” She said this with a grin and a wink that I wanted badly to slap off her face.
    “Oh! I get it,” I announced thickly, waving an unsteady hand at her in a flaring motion, the wine freeing up my tongue. “You’re easy . Well, allow me to divine your future, honey,” I said, bringing my hand up to my head in mock concentration. “It’s not very long, and it’s absolutely bound to be painful if you even think about—”
    “Whoa!” came a deep baritone right behind me. “Abby, what the . . . ?” Dutch said as I swiveled my head to look back at him. He was wearing a look of shock that was quickly turning to anger.
    “She—” I began, pointing an accusing finger at Joe, but he cut me off.
    “Please excuse us for a minute, Agent La Bond,” he said, and grabbed my hand, practically pulling me out of my chair and escorting me to the front of the restaurant.
    When he found a spot near the coat check that offered a small amount of privacy, he hissed, “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
    “ Me?! What about her?” I hissed back.
    “ What about her?” he asked, but his tone suggested he wasn’t the least bit interested in my answer.
    “I’ve got breaking news for you, buddy,” I said, wobbling slightly as the wine wrecked havoc with my balance. “You may not realize it, but you’re partnered up with Miss F-B-I’m-a-whore over there, and you have the nerve to try to make me feel guilty about having to work tonight when you’re about to go off on some assignment with that . . . that . . . that? ! ” I couldn’t think of a good pejorative, so I just kept stuttering.
    “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Abby!’ Dutch hissed again, “She’s my superior! There’s nothing going on between us—”
    “Try telling her that,” I spat.
    “Come on!” Dutch whispered impatiently. “Cut me some slack, will ya? For your information it’s against Bureau policy to date a subordinate. She could lose her job if she even—”
    “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” I said loudly, no longer keeping my voice down. “I’ve heard that line before. The point is that you allowed me to feel terrible about not making our dinner tonight when you’re the one about to jet-set off with Miss Silicone Valley.”
    “Listen,” he said, squeezing my arm, his body language pleading with me to lower my voice, “my plane wasn’t leaving until after ten, and if you had been available we still could have had an early dinner and gotten reacquainted before I had to leave.”
    “Wham bam thank you, ma’am. Gee, Agent Rivers, how romantic of you,” I deadpanned, giving him a flinty glare.
    “And why did you have to tell her you were a psychic?” he asked, changing the subject completely.
    “Excuse me?” I screeched, now utterly offended.
    “I mean, come on! This is the first time you meet my partner and you have to open with the fortune-teller bit? How do you think I’m gonna live that one down?”
    “What I do is not a ‘bit,’ ” I growled, my face feeling flushed with anger. “And she asked me what I did for a living. What would you have had me tell her?”
    “Hell, I don’t know,” he said, sighing heavily and running a hand through his blond hair. “Anything, I guess—”
    I didn’t even wait for him to finish the full sentence. I was completely fed up. I turned on my heel and exited the restaurant, stomping my way over to Dutch’s car.
    He caught up to me ten yards from his sedan. “Abby,” he said, grabbing for my arm and