him as she turned aside. Darrell followed on her heels. They walked out the door and toward the van, climbed inside. Pauline wasn’t happy as they settled into their seats. She really hated women. They got in the way at every turn.
A gray truck came up the long drive from the highway followed by a sheriff’s Jeep with Winslow County Sheriff’s Department written in white on its black sides. Both Pauline and Darrell examined the newcomers with interest.
“Who called the cavalry?” Pauline murmured, then motioned the driver to wait. “The guy in the black leather jacket. I know him. Who is he?”
“Last week’s booty call?” The driver sniggered, but no one else in the van dared such a one-way ticket to you’re-fired-ville.
Pauline sent him a scathing look, mentally reminded herself to can his sorry ass, then said, “Detective Langford Stone. Or something.” She snapped her fingers a couple of times. “Langdon.”
“The guy whose sister was killed by Marsdon,” Darrell said on a long whistle.
“Kill that engine, moron,” Pauline snapped to the driver. “We’re sticking around.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
