Arson Takes a Dare: The Third Marisa Adair Mystery Adventure (Marisa Adair Mysteries Book 3) Read Online Free

completed his outfit. The angles of his thin face were sharp and predatory. With his short brown hair spiky on top and his dark blue eyes, Alex looked handsome and kickass at the same time.
    Marisa’s heart stuttered in her chest. Her headache receded. She wondered what his body would feel like next to hers. She wished she knew what he was thinking. He’s probably mulling over last night, wondering if that’s my new normal. Maybe he’s regretting giving us a chance. She blinked back tears.
    Alex raised a brow. His nicely shaped lips were in a solemn, straight line. His deep blue eyes, filled with compassion and a new hint of wariness, were on a level with hers. “Let’s take a turn around the trailer park.”
    As they walked, Marisa’s equilibrium returned. She glanced at him. “Thanks for loaning me a sweatshirt and sweatpants.” She tugged up the dangling shirtsleeves and then hiked at the baggy waistband. “And I appreciate your help cleaning out my brother’s room.”
    “You’re welcome.” He drew in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I feel like alternately screaming at you and lecturing you, Marisa. Under the circumstances, I’m not going to yell at you. It would be like kicking a dog which had just gotten home from the vet’s clinic after being neutered. Now, tell me what happened last night.”
    “We’ll pretend you screamed and yelled.” Marisa looked down at her feet. The pool shoes she had borrowed from Alex to replace her high-heeled boots looked like flippers at the ends of her ankles.
    Waiting for her explanation, Alex took another deep breath.
    Marisa wondered if he was using meditation techniques to deal with her issues. “I’m not one hundred percent sure what happened.” While she chose her words, she glanced around. The trailer park was packed with rusted mobile homes as close together as cars in a parking lot. Most of the tiny yards behind the metal rectangles held old cars and trucks perched on concrete blocks. Ancient appliances filled many of the tiny, sagging porches.
    “Back in my drinking days before rehab,” she said, “I drank so much I had not only blackouts, but brownouts. I had a brownout last night.”
    “Brownout?” The wariness in Alex’s eyes was chased away by humor. “Sounds like a bad dog took a dump in the hallway, and the barefoot owner stepped in it. And it squished up between the toes.”
                  Marisa smiled, her heart lighter. I think I’m going to live. When she’d awoke on Alex’s couch in his small home office, the areas of her body not covered by the tight sweater and short denim skirt stuck to the leather, it had been a matter for debate. Since then, she’d hung her head in shame as well as pain as she and Alex shoveled debris and garbage from her dead brother’s room.
                  “Tell me about brownout.”
    “A brownout happens when a person is drinking,” Marisa said. “I’m not a scientist, but in rehab, I did learn the basics. As I understand it, a brownout occurs when the short-term memory doesn’t record events.”
    Alex kicked at loose gravel. “That does sound better than sticking your foot in dog poop.”
    “Maybe not, Alex.” Marisa frowned in concentration. “I remember going to the club last night. When I got there, I didn’t see any familiar faces. The turnover rate among exotic dancers is pretty high. Diana wasn’t due at work yet. Maupin hadn’t yet arrived. Do you remember him?”
    “I met him back in the spring. He has the heart of a lion. Even though he’s in a wheelchair, Maupin confronted a murderer. He also took excellent eyewitness pictures.”
    Marisa smiled. “He’s dying to be a paid member of the paparazzi. He’s had some success. After we solved the round of murders last spring, he published his best photographs.”
    “You make solving murders sound like playing Twister or Scrabble. ‘The last round of murders’ sounds like there’s sure to be