Carol Higgins Clark Boxed Set - Volume 1: This eBook collection contains Zapped, Cursed, and Wrecked. Read Online Free PDF Page B

hostess still at the club?” Regan asked.
    “Yes,” Billy answered. “I called. She said she’d wait there if you want to go over and talk to her.”
    “Of course I do,” Regan said.
    Outside the car, the music on the street was playing louder than ever. People were joyously joining in song. “I want to rock and roll all night…”
    “This guy is going to be scarred for life if someone doesn’t find them,” Kit moaned. “Maybe even worse. If I hadn’t agreed to go out with her tonight, she might not have met him…”
    “It’s not your fault, Kit,” Regan said. “We’ll do everything we can to find them. I’ll call Jack and he’ll get the word out. Of course, this isn’t the best night to be trying to locate—”
    “An assaultive wacko.”
    Regan turned the key in the ignition, pressed in Jack’s number on her cell phone, and slowly steered the car through the throng of partyers. All thoughts of the attempted burglary at her apartment had disappeared.
    “Kit, reach in my purse and get out my notebook,” Regan instructed as Jack’s cell phone began to ring. “Start writing down everything you remember about Georgina. Everything she said, everything she did. What she had to drink before she disappeared—”
    “It was a margarita,” Kit said as she opened Regan’s purse, “with extra salt. She downed it in about two gulps.”
    Jack’s voice came through the car speakers. From his caller ID he knew it was Regan calling him. “Regan, are you all right?” he asked anxiously.
    “I’m fine. I’m with Kit.”
    “Can I call you back? We’re in the middle of—”
    “No, Jack,” Regan answered. “I’m quite sure you’ll want to hear this right away…”

8
    “T his isn’t a bad place to sit out the blackout,” Clay Nardellini pronounced as, chewing on a toothpick, he strolled into Lorraine’s suite. “You’re staying cool up here in grand style while the rest of the city is fanning themselves with rolled up newspapers. The Candy Man must be selling lots of chocolates.”
    Lorraine rolled her eyes. “I needed a place to stay. Conrad sold the loft to our next-door neighbors while I was in England.”
    Clay’s brown eyes widened. In his late twenties, he was five foot ten, with brown hair, olive skin, and a slightly stocky build. He was attractive but had a tough street quality, which meant that he was almost always cast to play a criminal. It was a source of frustration that he’d shared with his acting class. With the support of his teacher, Wendall, and his fellow students, he was working hard to develop his sensitive side. He was also taking speech lessons in an effort to sound more refined and dance classes to put some elegance in his swagger. His burning desire was to play a romantic lead opposite a hot young actress. “He sold it? You loved that place.”
    Lorraine shrugged. “You want a drink?”
    “I’ll take a beer.”
    Lorraine poured herself a glass of white wine from the open bottle on the table, then grabbed a bottle of beer out of the mini-bar. She walked over to the long, white overstuffed couch that faced Central Park. The whole suite was decorated in white, including the carpeting, walls, furniture, and knickknacks. The hotel’s decorator was obviously a proponent of white’s purity, which undoubtedly would end up driving the cleaning staff crazy. Lorraine handed Clay his drink, and they both sat.
    Clay gratefully sipped the cold brew. “That tastes good. So Lorraine, to what do I owe this honor? You just got off a plane from England and you call me? Where’s the Candy Man?”
    Lorraine sat back, propping up a fluffy pillow behind her. “He filed for divorce.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that,” Clay said tenderly, always at work on that sensitive streak.
    “That’s not my problem.”
    “It’s not?”
    “No.” Lorraine curled her manicured toes around the plush, white carpeting. “Remember how Wendall told us that if we had a problem with someone we