Dirty Deeds Read Online Free PDF Page B

fractured relationship was by no means a show-stopper.
    "You call him Jamie." She made a note because that little piece of information was not in Harry's file. She liked the nickname, it was warm and friendly. Not exactly the moniker of a big, dangerous drug lord.
    "Yes. I can't say what his new friends and associates call him, but we've always called him Jamie."
    She didn't miss the inflection on the words new friends and associates. There was distaste in his words and it came across as clear as a bell. Paul McDonald didn't think much more of his brother's current profession than she did and it put another plus in his column.
    Once she made the last note, Louie folded the notebook shut and slipped it along with the pen back into her pocket. From her other pocket she pulled a business card that she handed to Paul. His fingers brushed hers as he took it, his touch light and electric.
    "If you think of anything that might help, please give me a call."
    He looked down at the card and then back up to her face. "Of course."
    "Seriously, Mr. McDonald."
    "Paul."
    She paused and then nodded. "Paul. Anything you think of could be important."
    "If come up with anything, I'll call," he told her.
    "Promise?"
    He used his index finger to make an 'x' across the left side of his chest. "Cross my heart."
    "Thank you."
    She shook his hand once more, then turned and made her way back out of the office and into the public area of the arena. She didn't leave right away, but instead stood in the dim light at the top of stairs gazing down at the now quiet ice.
    Paul McDonald wasn't hiding anything from her. She'd been around enough to know lies when she heard them, and he wasn't lying. He was as angry with his brother as if the bond money came right out of his pocket. Paul could prove helpful in making her job much easier.
    So what was the nagging feeling rolling around in the pit of her stomach? She was missing something. But what was it?
    * * * *
    He watched and waited, darkness falling deep enough so he could move to the back door without detection, but he jumped every time a car drove by. Walking to Kendall's house with his hands stuffed in his pockets, he tried as best he could to look like a guy doing nothing more than taking an early evening walk. At her driveway, he looked around before he raced to the back door. Feeling around with his fingertips inside the lip of the hanging plant, he found the key she left there for emergencies.
    Unlocking the door, he slipped inside. Only then did he let out a breath. The feeling of safety the dark entryway gave him almost brought him to tears. A spicy scent hung in the air and he recognized it immediately. Kendall's homemade spaghetti sauce.
    "Kendall," he said in a voice quiet enough he hoped he wouldn't scare her.
    She stood at the kitchen sink a few feet away from where he huddled in the shadows. At the hushed sound of her name, she jumped. With her hand over her heart, she spun toward the back door and the direction of his voice. "Jesus, Jamie, you just about gave me a heart attack."
    "Sorry." He meant it too. He hated the look on her face and knowing he was the one who put it there.
    He didn't move from the back door, afraid to get too close to the large dining room window with a full view of the yard. He couldn't be certain he wasn't followed, and he wasn't about to take any more chances than necessary.
    Kendall seemed to sense the root of his reluctance to come further into the room and went around the counter to the window. Pulling the cord, she closed the blinds. Relieved, he moved to wrap her in his arms and dropped his head to her shoulder. God, he wanted to be strong, to be the kind of man Kendall deserved, but he just couldn't pull it off. His best intentions dissolved the moment he felt the touch of her lips against his cheek. Sobs he couldn't stop rolled out.
    "Oh, baby," she cooed into his ear, her arms holding him tight. "Come on, sit down and tell me what's going on."
    He managed to