Sundays Are for Murder. Marie Ferrarella
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“I’ll just—”
Before he had a chance to cut her off and say he’d swing by Garcia’s station, Natashya gave him the message, in front of Charley. Exactly what he hadn’t wanted.
“He said the report on the rabbit is ready. And that you might be interested to know that the rabbit was pregnant.”
The enigmatic message caught Charley’s attention immediately. Just as he knew it would. She stopped and glared at her new partner. “You get a rabbit into trouble, Special Agent Brannigan?”
Instead of laughing her question off, he shrugged carelessly as he continued walking out the door. “In a manner of speaking, I guess I probably did.”
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