Read Online Friends and Lovers Trilogy 03 - Seduced by Beth Ciotta - Free Book Online
Authors: Beth Ciotta
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conclusions.”
“I’m not jumping. I’m working with what we know.”
“Which isn’t much.” She swigged from her Evian water bottle to counteract the rising bile. “You think I shot someone.”
“Didn’t say that. It’s possible an assault of some kind occurred. Probable it was ugly.”
“Great.”
His cell phone rang. He slipped on a headset and took the call, momentarily absorbed in a conversation with someone about a jeep tour.
Sofia studied the prickly, barren landscape, wondering why anyone would want to live in the godforsaken desert. Especially a man who’d, according to Lulu who’d heard it from Murphy, graduated college specializing in psychology and foreign languages. Federal agents also had to be versed in law and weaponry. She knew first hand that Joe excelled in martial arts. Given his extensive and varied training, why was he tooling snowbirds around in a jeep? Why was he living in the boonies as opposed to a city thriving with cultural and professional opportunities? She understood wanting to put the past behind you, wanting to start over, but damn, in purgatory?
Then she remembered something else her sister had said. “Colin’s worried Bogie’s never going to rejoin the living.” Sofia hadn’t given it much thought at the time, mainly because she didn’t want to think about Joe Bogart period. Now, she was curious as hell.
She eavesdropped as the man bullshitted his boss, bailing last minute on two scheduled tours and, if his expression and tone were any indication, coming out of the lie smelling like a rose. Her publicist would be green with envy. He was
that
good. Add master manipulator to his list of special skills. Probably why he’d been such an effective undercover agent.
He’d sure snowed Julietta Marcella
.
Sofia fidgeted in her seat. Just thinking about that poor woman made her skin itch. Maybe that’s why Joe relocated to the desert, hot as hell and populated by venomous creatures. Maybe this was a form of punishment. Penance for what he perceived as an unforgivable act. Pretty harsh, considering he hadn’t been directly responsible for her death. Was it possible that he’d actually been in love with Julietta? The thought had never occurred.
Uncomfortable with the idea, Sofia focused on the clump of mountains looming ahead, rough-edged and mysterious, like Joe. He signed off with his boss and fell into thoughtful silence. She soaked in the blazing sun and foreign sights, feeling as though she’d driven onto the rehearsal lot of a classic thriller.
Be careful what you wish for.
She used to wish she’d been born earlier so she could’ve starred in an Alfred Hitchcock film. A brilliant director, he’d seen beyond the radiant beauty of Ingrid Bergman, Grace Kelly, and Kim Novak, tapping into their smoldering sensuality and cool charm to illicit performances of a lifetime. Apparently, the spiritual powers-that-be had decided to award Sofia a role in a reality show version of a Hitchcock tale, the main components nail-biting suspense and twisted attraction. She could almost imagine the Master of Suspense sitting in his celestial director’s chair chortling at her anxiety.
Joe’s Wrangler Jeep raced and bounced over the rock and hole infested excuse for a road, leaving civilization in the dust, and heightening Sofia’s trepidation. She clasped her hands in her lap rather than gnawing at her expensive French manicure. She struggled not to obsess on this morning’s fruitless investigation as they zoomed closer to his desert home.
Still, her mind percolated.
Either housekeeping had beat them to the public restroom, carting off last night’s garbage pre-dawn, or Sofia had imagined shoving her soiled suit in the gleaming trash receptacle.
Although she had managed to lead Joe back to the shed, they’d found no evidence that she’d ever been there. The owners weren’t home, and the house itself was not the residence she’d been dropped at by the limo driver.
“I’m not jumping. I’m working with what we know.”
“Which isn’t much.” She swigged from her Evian water bottle to counteract the rising bile. “You think I shot someone.”
“Didn’t say that. It’s possible an assault of some kind occurred. Probable it was ugly.”
“Great.”
His cell phone rang. He slipped on a headset and took the call, momentarily absorbed in a conversation with someone about a jeep tour.
Sofia studied the prickly, barren landscape, wondering why anyone would want to live in the godforsaken desert. Especially a man who’d, according to Lulu who’d heard it from Murphy, graduated college specializing in psychology and foreign languages. Federal agents also had to be versed in law and weaponry. She knew first hand that Joe excelled in martial arts. Given his extensive and varied training, why was he tooling snowbirds around in a jeep? Why was he living in the boonies as opposed to a city thriving with cultural and professional opportunities? She understood wanting to put the past behind you, wanting to start over, but damn, in purgatory?
Then she remembered something else her sister had said. “Colin’s worried Bogie’s never going to rejoin the living.” Sofia hadn’t given it much thought at the time, mainly because she didn’t want to think about Joe Bogart period. Now, she was curious as hell.
She eavesdropped as the man bullshitted his boss, bailing last minute on two scheduled tours and, if his expression and tone were any indication, coming out of the lie smelling like a rose. Her publicist would be green with envy. He was
that
good. Add master manipulator to his list of special skills. Probably why he’d been such an effective undercover agent.
He’d sure snowed Julietta Marcella
.
Sofia fidgeted in her seat. Just thinking about that poor woman made her skin itch. Maybe that’s why Joe relocated to the desert, hot as hell and populated by venomous creatures. Maybe this was a form of punishment. Penance for what he perceived as an unforgivable act. Pretty harsh, considering he hadn’t been directly responsible for her death. Was it possible that he’d actually been in love with Julietta? The thought had never occurred.
Uncomfortable with the idea, Sofia focused on the clump of mountains looming ahead, rough-edged and mysterious, like Joe. He signed off with his boss and fell into thoughtful silence. She soaked in the blazing sun and foreign sights, feeling as though she’d driven onto the rehearsal lot of a classic thriller.
Be careful what you wish for.
She used to wish she’d been born earlier so she could’ve starred in an Alfred Hitchcock film. A brilliant director, he’d seen beyond the radiant beauty of Ingrid Bergman, Grace Kelly, and Kim Novak, tapping into their smoldering sensuality and cool charm to illicit performances of a lifetime. Apparently, the spiritual powers-that-be had decided to award Sofia a role in a reality show version of a Hitchcock tale, the main components nail-biting suspense and twisted attraction. She could almost imagine the Master of Suspense sitting in his celestial director’s chair chortling at her anxiety.
Joe’s Wrangler Jeep raced and bounced over the rock and hole infested excuse for a road, leaving civilization in the dust, and heightening Sofia’s trepidation. She clasped her hands in her lap rather than gnawing at her expensive French manicure. She struggled not to obsess on this morning’s fruitless investigation as they zoomed closer to his desert home.
Still, her mind percolated.
Either housekeeping had beat them to the public restroom, carting off last night’s garbage pre-dawn, or Sofia had imagined shoving her soiled suit in the gleaming trash receptacle.
Although she had managed to lead Joe back to the shed, they’d found no evidence that she’d ever been there. The owners weren’t home, and the house itself was not the residence she’d been dropped at by the limo driver.
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