Read Online Lucky Break by Deborah Coonts - Free Book Online Page A

delectable accent, truly swoon-worthy.   The fact that he loved Miss P beyond measure, a woman fifteen years his senior at that, put his perfect-male score off the charts.   She was one lucky gal.
    My desk chair squeaked as I sat, then toed-open a lower drawer, put my feet on it, and leaned back.
    Jeremy’s body twitched, the only hint he was aware of my presence.   “You okay?” he asked.
    “Been better, thanks.”   I reached for my version of worry beads, a paperweight on the corner of my desk.   Lucite encasing a golden cockroach, it had been a gift from the hotel staff after I’d dealt with a particularly odious guest intent on loosing thousands of the bugs.  
    “What can I do to help?”   Jeremy eased his legs around, putting his feet on the floor as he levered himself to a seated position, then speared me with those eyes as he flashed his dimples.   His wavy hair mussed from the impromptu nap begged to have fingers run through it.
    Good thing I was genetically hard-wired to not go play in someone else’s sandbox, but I had no idea how he fended off the hordes of less-principled women.  
    I motioned him closer, then I remembered I needed my phone.   I buzzed Miss P.
    “On my way with your phone.”
    I’d quit asking her long ago how she could anticipate my every need, but it still creeped me out a bit.   Breezing through the doorway, a cloud of chiffon and a fresh floral scent, she stopped next to the desk.   “Here you go.”   She held out my phone.   “Twenty messages from your mother.   I assume by now she is either dead or has found someone else to shoot.   Several from a few of the reporters who have your personal number.   And an odd one.”
    “Odd?   How so?” I took my phone, not so sure I wanted it.
    “A strange sort of chuckle, then a hang-up.”
    “Male or female?”
    “Male.   I left the message on there.   Maybe you can recognize the voice.”
    Jeremy and Miss P huddled closer as I pressed play.
    Short, low, with a hint of madness, the chuckle was worthy of a Halloween spook house, giving me goose bumps.  
    “You recognize him?”   Miss P asked, angling a look at me over the top of her cheaters.
    “Can’t be sure.   But did you know Irv Gittings was released from prison a few days ago?”
    Shocked looks from both of them answered that question.  
    “Pretty light sentence for murder,” Jeremy said.  
    “Apparently, he got out on a technicality.   And something about a judge on the take.   I plan to take it all up with the D.A.”
    “Wish I could be a fly on that wall,” Miss P mumbled, as she tore the top sticky note off the stack on my desk.   I handed her a pen.   “You’ll want to see him first thing?”   She didn’t even pretend she expected an answer as she made a note to herself.
    “Don’t bother.   Tomorrow is Sunday.   I know where to find him.”
    She tore off the sheet of paper she’d been scribbling on, wadded it up, and launched it across the room at the trashcan.   A swish.
    I focused on Jeremy.   “Find him.   Find Irv Gittings.”
    “Anything to go on?”
    “Start with the phone number from the message.”   I scribbled it on a notepad, tore off the sheet, and handed it to him.   I stared into the paperweight, as if looking into a crystal ball, hoping to divine answers.   No such luck.   “His trail went cold when he became a ward of the state.   My bet would be to start with known associates, that sort of thing, but you’re the pro.”  
    “I’ll run the number, but I’d be willing to bet that’s a burner phone, a dead-end.   But forward me a copy of the message.   I’ll see if I can pull anything that might help from the tape.   I’ll try the facial recognition software, too.   Any security tapes from Cielo tonight?”
    I grimaced; my stomach hurt.   High-octane Scotch on raw flesh with no food to protect it.   “Security is minimal there right now.   We’re not open yet.   Still working out the