Chasing Suspect Three Read Online Free

trust.
    All the rationalization didn’t clear her
mind. Her imagination was beyond composure at that point; the
images were still there. And now he was beckoning from the bedroom
for her to join him. She knew what was waiting for her, if she
wanted it. Why did she feel she’d be slipping into bed with a
stranger? What if his hands were no longer the familiar hands that
had always touched her? What if they were no longer special? What
if his naked body felt different, and the lovemaking was
unfamiliar. Should she take such a chance?
    Silly, of course, yet she was not going into
that bedroom and onto the same king-sized bed where the described
performances might possibly have been staged. She didn’t want to be
in bed with the possible diary man.
    She gave Chip an excuse for unexpectedly
leaving and escaping to the refuge of her safe little
apartment.
     

Chapter Three

    H ow marvelous that
just looking out on a sunlit Florida morning can improve your
disposition. Having slept surprisingly well, Sandy felt better
waking up in her own twin-sized bed in the cozy nook of her studio
apartment. Nevertheless, soon after awakening, the players in that
erotic diary slipped back into her mind.
    She would dismiss them, of course. In the
light of morning, they were at most exaggerated cartoon characters
who had no place in her world. Too bad, they didn’t stay out of her
mind.
    A smiling Martin Bronner unexpectedly greeted
her at the law office door when she arrived. He eagerly waved a
pink message slip as though it were a winning lottery ticket. The
two young lawyers were not officially law partners; yet they did
share the office and an increasing slice of each other’s life. Not
the romantic part. Early on, she had gently squelched his hopes for
a romance. Even so, he would catch himself having dreamy thoughts
about her.
    They definitely had become friends in spite
of being mismatched. she could be audacious and brash. Martin, in
every sense of the word, was a gentleman. He kept his world
well-ordered. She took the world as she found it. He would politely
walk passed a closed door. She wouldn’t hesitate to listen at the
door and then peek inside—especially if it were marked “Private.”
He was comfortable with crime only in the abstract, and would walk
a wide circle around a dead body. She’d step over it. They were
complementary forces and made a remarkable though unlikely set of
office mates.
    He was ten years older—around forty, and nice
looking in a button-down sort of way: neatly trimmed short hair and
inevitably dressed too conservatively for Florida. He had never
worn a collarless shirt of any type out in public in his entire
life, not even in grade school. Back when they first met, he had
recently taken over the small office building from his father and
was using one office in the suite of offices for his modest one
lawyer practice. She had moved in while they pursued their one and
only important lawsuit, a wrongful death case they had recently
won. They were waiting for the sizable settlement money to
materialize and their fame to spread. After that, multitudes of
important clients would surely be pounding on their door.
    That settlement money better show up soon, as
she had violated her carefully crafted budget rules by occasionally
hitting her credit card to cover day-to-day living expenses.
Fortunately, her expenses were low.
    Her small studio apartment cost almost
nothing. Her clothing would possibly last considering she regularly
ran around in jeans, sometimes in the office. Eating regularly was
overrated. She did owe Martin for untold lunches. He didn’t know
she was keeping score. He was also covering her office rent and
expenses. He was calling it a gift. She had a careful record of how
much she owned him.
    Her primary hit was the monthly payment on
her precious Mazda MX-5. Even if financial disaster struck, it
would be the last to go. She’d give up her apartment and live in
the car, if necessary. Of