Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?
Fifteen months of harassment by the police and tabloids nearly bring trophy wife Robin Lamy to her knees. As the prime suspect in the presumed murder of her missing husband, she fights the terror of life imprisonment, and leaving her ailing mother alone and broke. Still, Robin would rather kiss a snake than cooperate with the Kansas City PD.
Maverick homicide Detective Nick Ketchum doesn’t take Robin’s hostility personally. He knows the circumstantial evidence against her is lame. Worse, the chemistry building between them signals trouble.
Battling the sizzle, Nick gains Robin’s trust. Robin quickly realizes the value of having a cop on her side. Maybe in her bed as well… But will working with Nick bring Robin closer to the truth? Or just closer to danger?
Page Count: 396
Word Count: 98885
Print ISBN: 1-60154-985-7
Piano music followed Robin into the elevator. Too bad she had to wait to give Nick the surprise she’d bought. Her pulse gyrated, and she smiled at the fantasy of him opening her gift. God, she’d require oxygen.
An overpowering scent of roses drifted into the hallway outside her mother’s cracked door. Inhaling deeply, she got her face under control and entered.
“Mom?” Why were the drapes drawn? Winter or summer, accomplished painter Sarah Lamy craved natural light. It flooded her canvasses with a Monet-like incandescence. “Mom! You in the bathroom? The bedroom?”
“Allie, allie, allie, all’s out in…” Robin jogged into the hallway. Her heart galloped. Her mother never napped. Not on her worst days. Not when she expected Robin.
The bedroom door stood open. Curtains closed. Light from the bedside lamp gleamed on polished wood. An envelope sat propped against a vase of Peace roses.
The room spun. Robin squeezed her eyes shut, tried to inhale, but fear grabbed her. Stay calm. Stay… She’d never screamed or cried or fainted when the cops came about the blood in Andrew’s car.
Don’t go there. She opened her eyes and lunged across the bed. The unsealed envelope was addressed to her. In red computer cursive…
Hands shaking, she ripped out a sheet of paper. A typed message jittered below the phony, explicit photo of her and Nick. See how easy it is to get to mommy? The rose fragrance stung Robin’s eyes. Who had taken such a risk? Why? She brought the note closer. Imagine her disgust when she sees this snapshot of her baaad baby girl.
“No, dammit!” Her stomach pitched.
Lucky for you, she didn’t see any pictures—this time.
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