Read Online Divorced, Desperate and Dead (Divorced and Desperate Book 5) by Christie Craig - Free Book Online Page B

The artist picked up the sketch and showed the officers sitting on the opposite side of the table.
    “Shit,” she heard Detective Calder say when the artist held it out for their inspection.
    “What?” asked the Hoke’s Bluff detective.
    “Nothing,” he said. “I’m just glad we at least have a face.”
    Chloe wasn’t positive, but something told her he wasn’t being completely upfront. She recalled what her Johnny Depp lookalike had said. It’s J.D. Andrews. He’s a kid mixed up with the Black Blood gang. Another officer and I arrested him not too long ago.
    But that wouldn’t be possible. Would it? Oh, hell no!
    “Can we have a copy of that?” Detective Henderson asked.
    “Sure, but you’ll get back with us on any new info, right?” The Hoke’s Bluff detective must have sensed something amiss as well.
    “Of course,” Detective Calder said.
    As they walked out, Detective Henderson moved beside her, and followed her to her car. “Thanks for everything,” he said, offering another of his charming smiles, that for some reason didn’t work for her.
    “I didn’t do anything,” she said.
    “Oh, yes, you did.” His blue eyes twinkled. “Sherri’s right, you know. We need to go out. When things with my partner calm down, I’m gonna call you and we’ll have that dinner. I have your number.”
    “Oh, well, I . . .” Shit. How could she let him down easy? Several excuses she’d used over the past few months came to mind. Sorry, I gave up shaving my legs. I lost my appetite for sex. I’ve suddenly become allergic to orgasms. “I . . .”
    “I’m looking forward to it.” He winked at her.
    She opened her mouth to say something, anything to fix this, but his phone rang. He looked at the number. “It’s the hospital.” He answered it.
    “Is everything okay?” he asked in lieu of hello, his tone concerned.
    Had something happened to Cary Stevens? Her own chest gripped.
    “Thank God! Tell him that Turner and I will be up.” He hung up and smiled so big his blue eyes crinkled. “Cary woke up. He’s going to make it.”
    Her heart did a sigh of relief. She told herself she was happy for the real Cary, not her dream Cary. But the relief she felt was far from imaginary. “Great. I’m happy for him.”
    “And . . .” he said, grinning, “now that I know he’s okay, let’s make it this Friday night. I know a great restaurant.”
    Her mind started spinning. Before she could say anything, he said, “Great. I’ll call you.”
    Watching him practically jog to join the other detective, she mentally gave herself a swift kick in the ass for not nipping this thing in the bud. Frustrated, she jumped in her car, latched both hands on the steering wheel, then leaned forward and banged her head against the dang thing.
    Crap! “Sorry, I’m washing my hair,” she muttered, suddenly finding it easy to say what she should have said. “Got a date with my Bob.” Or how about the truth? “My fiancé killed himself, and since then I don’t trust my judgment and I’m too scared to get anywhere close to romance. Except when it comes to imaginary Johnny Depp lookalikes.”
    She hadn’t been afraid to get close to him. She’d let him crawl into her bed. Let him kiss her. And if she hadn’t woken up, she might have let him do a lot more.
    Oh, hell, she was so screwed up.
     
    • • •
     
    J.D. collected his money for the drug drops he’d done for Jax, then bought himself enough cocaine to forget what had happened, and help him figure out what he was gonna do now.
    Driving, feeling the need for a good high, but for some reason resisting, he drove to Hoke’s Bluff, down Walnut Street. He hadn’t even really meant to go there. He’d been on autopilot, but when he turned down Cypress Street, down the dead end street, he knew where he was heading. He stopped in front of his grandmother’s house.
    She wasn’t there, of course. Like everyone else in his life, she’d abandoned him.
    Only her