Read Online Foster Justice by Colleen Shannon - Free Book Online Page A

though; he just appears about ten years ago. I’d dig some more but Sinclair’s watching me like I’m the last tank in his pasture—” Corey hit the End button, but Chad had heard enough.
    Jasmine wouldn’t tell him diddly, Kinnard was denying he knew the artist of the best work in his gallery . . . all in all, LA had pretty much met his very low expectations.
    Sighing heavily, Chad put his wrinkled clothes back on and faced the inevitable. Time to spend some of what was left of his last paycheck on a new suit. He couldn’t expect to sneak around the Beverly Wilshire looking like this—even he knew that. Trey had said he was meeting Jasmine at the Wilshire, so tonight he’d see if he could surprise them. While his gut told him she was involved in Trey’s disappearance, his gut also told him to sweep her into his arms and test her standoffishness to prove it was a lie. His reaction to her was too visceral for it to be one-sided. If he could just see that Trey was all right, he’d try one more time to talk his brother home. If it didn’t work, he’d go back to Amarillo and beg for his job.
    Or as close as he knew how to beg . . .
    The other alternative, he shied away from. That Trey wasn’t at the Wilshire. That he hadn’t called in so long for one reason. Chad violently shoved away the thought of the lead of last resort: the morgue. Too soon for that.

    That night, Jasmine decided to see if she could shrug off her funk along with her stage costume. She’d swapped shifts with another girl and had impulsively accepted a date with Roger Larsen. While she had no interest in him romantically, he’d offered to lend her access to his law books and answer any questions she might have. She had no yen to be a corporate or tax lawyer, his specialties, but she knew he was well respected in Beverly Hills and could be a powerful ally closer to graduation when she was ready to network.
    And he was as different as he could be from Chad Foster. In her current state of mind, that was a huge advantage for him.
    Still, she’d chosen a conservative black skirt and ruffled white blouse rather than anything revealing. His eyes widened appreciatively when he saw her that night as she met him at the Beverly Wilshire. “How’re classes going?” He offered his arm.
    She took it. “Good. I especially love my real estate law classes.”
    â€œYou think you might want to specialize in real estate?”
    â€œI’m not sure yet. I still have a couple of years to decide. So why did you pick the Wilshire?”
    â€œThomas suggested the restaurant here.” Roger pulled out her chair at the table covered with white linen. “He knows the general manager and they just brought in a Michelin chef.”
    Jasmine managed not to roll her eyes. LA was the most trend-conscious place in which she’d ever lived, and Roger was all about money and power. Like Thomas. They both belonged here, but she was coming to the reluctant conclusion she didn’t. A conclusion that had strutted into her life on six feet two inches and boots.
    Jasmine twisted her napkin in her hands and forced herself to listen to Roger.
    Â 
    Outside, Chad drove up Wilshire Blvd for the sixth time, looking for a place to park. He hated using valets and knew they didn’t much like parking his double-wheeled dually. He was about to give up and turn into the valet line when he noticed a limo pull away about a block down. He wheeled into the spot just in time to beat another limo. The driver glared at him but Chad ignored him, locked his vehicle, and crossed to the hotel.
    He went to the front desk. “You have a Trey Foster registered here?”
    The froufrou desk clerk had a matching attitude. With an exquisitely manicured hand he pointed at a house phone. “You can try the operator, sir. I’m not allowed to give out names.”
    Chad dialed zero, eyeing the busy lobby. The