Copp On Fire, A Joe Copp Thriller (Joe Copp, Private Eye Series) Read Online Free Page B

the agonies of conflicting personalities and the division of responsibilities in criminal investigations, then Forta took me back to my car and I asked him about Abe Johnson along the way.
           "You don't remember him?"
           I said I couldn't place him.
           "That's weird," Forta said.
           "Why?"
           "He's the guy."
           "What guy?"
           "The guy that Angie was . . . involved with when she divorced you. I think they're married now."
           "Well, I never met the man. That's why I didn't recognize him."
           "That all you have to say about it?"
           "What'd you expect?"
           "Well, you spoiled all my fun. I kept waiting for you to wake up and put the guy on his ass."
           "Hey, we're talking seven, eight years ago. Besides, he seemed like a nice guy."
           "I don't believe it. You're not the same guy I used to know, Joe."
           "I hope not."
           "That guy was screwing your wife."
           "She was screwing him back. The marriage was dead before that started."
    "You've really changed, pal," Forta said with a disappointed sigh.
    Not really, not all that much. Don't know how I got the reputation as a hardass . Angela tried to be a proper wife and I tried to be a proper husband, but it fell apart. I think maybe I could make marriage work now. But I don't expect to try again. No reason why Angela shouldn't.   And I really did like Abe Johnson.
    The question I would have to ask myself was did Abe Johnson like me?   Because I was going to be needing all the support I could get, from wherever.
     
    The missing Melissa Franklin was waiting outside my office when I got back, scared and looking for protective arms.
    So much for the wild and woolly jungle and picking your own fights.
    It is not a one-way world.   What goes around, comes around. And sometimes the fight picks you.
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    Melissa Franklin was one hell of a beautiful woman, and there was something even beyond beauty that reached out and touched you by her close presence, a magnetic sort of something that made you want to get even closer. A tall girl, mid to late twenties, with the new-woman fitness look, an aerobics workout look, and you knew that even her sweat would smell good.
    The car she was driving fit the image very well, and it was as memorable as its tags. Personalized plates on the red Jaguar XJ-6 proclaimed that someone had PAID DUES for the pleasure of driving it, but none of that joy was presently in evidence. Our eyes met as I pulled in beside the Jag and I could see misery and fear flare into something like relief or hopeful anticipation before she clouded the gaze and covered the emotion with a blank stare.
    She reacted immediately and unlocked her door on
    the passenger side when I rapped the window with a knuckle, but she averted the gaze when I slid onto the seat beside her. I kept one foot on the ground and the door open—as much to reassure the lady as anything else—and I gave her a chance to speak first, but she didn't seem to know how to start, so I started for her.
           "Waiting for me, Melissa?"
           She kept her attention on the steering wheel. "Yes, but I'm not sure I know why. How did you know my name?"
           "A traffic cop made you leaving the scene just before the limo exploded. They want to talk to you. You need to go in."
           She sat with shoulders hunched, hands on the steering wheel while I wondered what was going on inside her lovely head. She was dressed in a leather jumpsuit with slits up the legs. Her top had a neckline that plunged. When she turned her eyes onto me they sent electricity.
           "Promise me you'll never wear sunglasses again."
           "What?"
           "I couldn't see your eyes the other day. They're too good to hide."
           "I don't understand."
           "When you came here with