Sweet Arrest Read Online Free PDF

bones. Not Connor's idea of perfect at all.
    "Did the lab come back with anything useful? Any prints in the store?” Connor poured himself a cup of coffee, knowing it was two or three hours old. He hadn't slept more than two hours the night before, which was how he always was when starting a new case. After a couple weeks, he would fall into a groove, and sleep would return. Until then, he would be a bear to work with. His coworkers knew the drill.
    Carl laughed at the face he made upon sampling the coffee. Mud, pure and simple. “Plenty of prints. It's a bakery.” He held up his hands. “Before you demand to know why I'm not on it, I do have one of the guys checking the prints against the central database. Any matches, he'll call us.” Carl fell silent and seemed hesitant.
    "What? Spit it out!"
    "Her alibi. You don't believe it, do you?"
    Connor frowned down at the Styrofoam cup in his hand. He had two real mugs in the bottom of his desk, given to him by Sergeant O'Hara, but he had no wish to encourage her. More often than not, her eyes were on his ass, and sometimes he wondered if he needed to demand she back off. O'Hara was pretty with that rich fiery red hair and rounded figure, but her pushy ways turned him off. Besides, he had no interest in dating a cop. They ran in his family, and enough was enough.
    "No, actually, I don't believe it. But I'm going to let it stand for now until we have more, like a motive. I'm about to run over to the shop and have a look around again before I give her the go ahead to open it up.” He tossed the cup in the trash. “Coming?"
    "Nah, I need to follow these leads. I'll let you know if I find out anything and add it to my report tonight before I knock off for the day."
    "All right. Later.” Connor checked his weapon out of habit and strolled to the exit. He had intended to turn his vehicle in for servicing, but it would have to wait another day. No rest for the weary.
    * * * *
    Connor had to park on a side street almost a block away from the bakery as the area was crowded this time of day. He strode along taking in the surroundings, the neighbors, trying to determine if anyone had undue interest in the bakery. Everyone seemed to be going about their business. Beyond a curious glance or two at the police tape hanging from the doorknob, there didn't seem—
    The tape might have been broken by a passing teen wanting to make trouble, but hopefully that same person had not also let themselves in. The front door stood slightly ajar. Connor approached with caution. Inside, he didn't see anyone right away, and he closed the door securely behind him.
    Something smashed in the kitchen. He drew his weapon. “Hello?” The back door was barred with a deadbolt lock requiring a key, so he knew whoever was in here had to come past him. They would not do so without hitting the floor first.
    Inching closer to the counter and the kitchen door beyond, he glanced at a box on the counter that hadn't been there on his last visit. He peered inside. Mail, some with a past due stamp on the outside of the envelope. Possible motive? He moved on.
    The door creaked when he shoved it, and he paused again, adrenaline pumping high octane through his veins. He caught a whiff of honeysuckle and baby powder and crinkled his nose. No other sound reached him.
    Without warning the door slammed into his chin and knocked him off balance. His weapon went flying, but before he could lose his footing, he grabbed onto the counter and clipped the person rushing him. The wind whooshed from his lungs at the impact with the ground, and a soft body landed on top of his.
    When the stars cleared from his vision at the hit, he recognized A'isha but pretended he didn't. He flipped her and rolled until he was on top of her. Pinning her hands above her head made her breasts push into his chest. He grew stiff between her legs in less than a second.
    "Please, Detective, don't,” she gasped. “I thought you were the killer. I was trying