Bad Bones (Claire Morgan) Read Online Free PDF

days,” Claire cried out above the rattle of sleet pellets striking the rocks. “Come on, let’s take another look around topside and then go home. My gut tells me this isn’t suicide or drug-related, but we won’t know anything until tomorrow anyway. I’m about to freeze to death, and I’m not exaggerating.”
    So they switched on their flashlights and trudged through more frigid drifts, slipping and sliding all over the damn place. Oh, yeah, she should definitely have listened to Black and taken a leave of absence and stayed in New Orleans for the rest of the winter. Or better yet, they should have flown to Tahiti and some serious sun and fun on some pristine and private golden beach paradise, which had been Black’s second suggestion and quite an enticement that had been, too. Oh, yeah, at the moment, that sounded like the perfect place to be, all right. She was beginning to hate winter, almost as much as Bud did. If that was even possible.

Chapter Two
    A little over two hours later, Claire found herself knee-deep in the icy white stuff again, this time trekking down the road to her own place, boots squeaking in the deep snow, panting with exertion, more than ready to step into her own warm and snug little A-frame house after a very long and bitterly cold workday. Bud’s Bronco couldn’t make it through the windblown drifts across her road so he let her out at the end near Harve Lester’s house. Harve had been her partner in Los Angeles, and was one of her best friends, but he was not home, having caught a ride with Black out to California on Black’s own personal little Learjet and was probably now having a good old time visiting with their former LAPD cronies. So she didn’t even have a place to stop and warm up. Oh, yeah, the day had been pretty damn crummy thus far. On the other hand, she was almost home, and her dear one, Black, was supposed to be there already, so she increased her footsteps. Yes, indeedy, the idea of him and a very warm hot tub at the end of the road, both just waiting for her to show up so the fun could begin, did register awfully high on her whoopee scale at the moment.
    When her cabin finally came into sight, all lit up and warm and welcoming, Black’s Cobalt 360 was indeed tied up at her ice-clogged little dock. He had the top up and buttoned down to protect him from the wind and weather and keep in the heat, and she remembered fondly the previous summer when they had frolicked just off her dock in the hot sun. Winter sucked; Bud was right on. Forging on, she just hoped Black had brought something good to eat, too, because lunch had not happened, not with the dozens of snow-related vehicle accidents that she and Bud had worked all day long. But first things first, she was freezing. Minutes later, she stomped across the front porch, kicked caked snow off her heavy fur-lined boots, and thrust open the front door. Black was standing at the kitchen counter, dressed in a tan thermal shirt under a plaid black-and-tan, fleece-lined flannel shirt that was unbuttoned and rolled to the elbows. He had on jeans, and was drinking a cup of coffee that smelled absolutely wonderful, and looking as hot as hell as usual, with those ice-blue eyes and thick black hair and killer dimples, especially the dimples because he had a big welcoming smile on his face.
    “Well, it’s about time you got home. You hungry? I’ve got T-bone steaks. Still nice and warm and juicy. Medium well, just the way you like it. French fries, extra crispy, and Caesar salad on the side. Peach cobbler for dessert.”
    Claire slammed the door behind her, unzipped her parka, shrugged out of it, and threw it on the floor. “No time to eat. I gotta get these clothes off.”
    Black appeared startled. He put down his cup. “I do believe I’ve had this dream before.”
    Claire had to laugh. “Stop, Black. I’m freezing, I kid you not. And that hot tub’s gonna warm me up faster than anything else.”
    “I take offense to