Read Online Foster Justice by Colleen Shannon - Free Book Online

appetites. You’re beaucoup sugar, honey, but I’m allergic to . . . butterflies.” His gaze fixed on her breasts.
    There was a moment of silence. When she spoke, her tone was sweet, but he heard anger seething under every nuanced syllable. “Fancy word for a redneck. Then I guess I don’t need to define this for you: stalemate. You left before I finished, remember? Or should I say you bolted.”
    Her implication that he was a coward literally made him see red as her proud auburn mane shone in the lights. His voice remained calm, though his West Texas twang got thick. She aroused damn near every one of the seven deadly sins in him. “Honey, if I’d had one iota of doubt about your guilt, you just ended it. You like plain talkin’?” He smashed his hat onto his head. “I’m gonna get you. I’m gonna see you pay if Trey’s been hurt.” Or worse . He didn’t have to say it, but she caught that fear, too. He’d started to turn away when he caught the look on her face.
    Shock widened those unusual eyes. “You really think I had something to do with luring him out here, don’t you? You think I killed him? Okay, I admit, Trey is my friend!”
    Half turned away, he froze, delving deep into her eyes, deeper than he’d dared all night long. Was the pain and shock he read genuine? She swayed on her feet, and with automatic Texas male courtesy, he reached out to steady her.
    She slapped his hand away and ran. Through the tables, jostling a waitress who dropped a tray in a patron’s lap. Half the place stopped to stare at her, the shock on the faces of the other waitresses proof they’d never seen Jasmine Routh so distraught because of a patron.
    As she leaped up on the stage, she even wobbled on one high heel, the only ungraceful move she’d made that night, and dashed behind the curtains.
    Chad stood stock still, uncaring of the curious looks and unkind thoughts. What the hell had he just seen? Had she truly been so shocked to hear his worst fears about Trey, or was she as good an actress as she was a dancer? She’d admitted to knowing Trey, but what precisely did that mean?
    When he shoved a hand in his pocket and felt that expensive card slice into his finger, he was brought back to his senses. Of course she was a great actress. She was expert at emitting sexual vibes and yet according to everything he’d learned, she didn’t even have a lover.
    Nope. She was primo, all right. A primo user. She used men like toilet paper, and he wasn’t going to fall for her act.
    He spun on a booted heel and stalked out.
    He had a couple more leads to follow up. He’d give her about a week, long enough to think he’d forgotten her. And then, if he still hadn’t found Trey . . .
    Maybe next time, he’d let her give him a real lap dance. He had no illusions about what happened sometimes behind those curtains. It would cost him a fortune and he’d sure as hell use a condom, but maybe once this wrenching ache was gone from his gut—and lower—he’d be able to think clearly. Face his best lead without all these seething, unseemly emotions.
    Chad Foster walked out into the busy LA nightlife, blind to the neon lights that had dazzled him, blind to the tattooed, pierced, and scruffy pedestrians he’d scorned.
    All he could see were butterflies.
    Dancing over every inch of his body.
    Â 
    The next morning, Chad rubbed his stubbly chin wearily as he sat up in his sleeping bag beneath the tent he’d pitched at the equestrian center. “I’m too old for camp-outs.” He wriggled out of the bag and stretched his aching back. He checked his phone for messages and found the one he hoped for from Corey. It was hushed and fast. “Chad, I ran all we have on Thomas Kinnard, Beverly Hills. Seems to be a respected businessman, lots of money he used to open that gallery. Can’t find much background on him