Chicken Caccia-Killer (A Jordan McAllister Mystery) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and their friends.”
    The men shook the newcomer’s hand while the women acknowledged him with a smile. Dressed in a dark gray suit that fit his svelte body perfectly, the man stood well over six feet tall with blondish-brown hair and green eyes. Jordan decided if she had to sum him up in one word, it would be classy.
    “Okay. Make sure you find me when everyone leaves. We’ve got a problem.” He started to leave then said. “If you see Kate, will you tell her I need to talk to her as well?”
    “Will do,” Emilio said as they all watched his lawyer walk away.
    Jordan scanned the room. “Where is Kate, anyway?”
    Alex and his mother exchanged glances before Alex shrugged. “She had a headache and decided to go back to my house to lie down.” He linked arms with Jordan then addressed his mother again. “I’m taking Jordan and her friends for food, and then we’re heading out to the balcony so I can show them how gorgeous the Dallas skyline is from here. Will you join us, Mother?”
    Natalie waved her hand. “In a minute, son. Emilio was just telling me about his daughter’s upcoming wedding.”
    Jordan didn’t miss the disapproving look that crossed Alex’s face. He had to have noticed the way Calabrese was standing close enough to his mother to brush against her occasionally. He’d mentioned earlier that his father was in Abu Dhabi on a business trip.
    Was it possible Natalie Moreland was one of those people who believed in the old “when the cat is away” thing?

C HAPTER T HREE
    Natalie and Emilio were quickly forgotten as Jordan got a look at the buffet table lined with elegant white linen and decorated with red, green, and white roses. It went hand in hand with the matching Italian flag sugar sheet that glistened from a huge cake in the center. Within minutes, they all had plates and were making their way around the table. Most of the food looked way too fancy for Jordan to ever consider, and for a second, she worried she’d have to resort to eating a bologna sandwich when she got home.
    She’d only eaten a salad at lunch with Alex and his mother, not wanting the woman to think—as her son liked to say—that she could put it away like a lumberjack. Now she was starving and prepared to pig out on all the free food. But without recognizing the food on the platters, there was no way she’d take a chance and end up making the same mistake she’d made while judging the cooking contest on the cruise a few months back. She’d gotten into trouble after she’d scarfed down an entire plate of sweetbreads before discovering sweetbreads were actually the thymus glands of calves.
    She’d nearly gagged and had made a complete fool of herself trying to spit it out. If it hadn’t been for the kindness of a famous celebrity chef who had slipped her a mint under the table, her career as a culinary reporter might well be over.
    Alex noticed her frown and slipped in beside her. “This is Italian food, Jordan. I promise you’ll love it.”
    “Hello, Jordan,” a voice from behind said, “It’s nice to know you clean up pretty well.”
    Jordan turned as Loretta Moseley approached with six-inch heels that had her wobbling like a drunken hooker. Dressed in an apple-green sundress that showed off an impressive cleavage, the ex-culinary reporter clung to the arm of a man who could only be described as a serious hottie.
    Seeing her nemesis, Jordan touched her reddish-brown curls, wishing she’d gone for a more sophisticated look. Subconsciously, she smoothed down the front of her red and white dress, glad Rosie had talked her into buying it.
    “Hello, Loretta. It’s nice to see you again.” She turned to the tall guy standing next to her, noticing the way his spiky blonde hair accentuated dark green eyes that were blatantly moving up and down her body.
    Jordan tapped her foot and waited until his gaze settled back on her face. “You must be the physical therapist I’ve heard so much about.”
    Loretta