Thursday, August 27, 2009


He was mad and needed to yell at someone. He’d just spent the last two hours with Dara Stevens and a caterer that constantly had to be reminded of who he worked for. That’s what he liked about Dara; no nonsense. But he didn’t like being stiffed by his bride-to-be. And for what? To try and figure out who did the world a favor and killed Tonya Somers? They’d never figure it out, he was sure of it. As far as he was concerned, a medal of honor should be given.
Chip McCorvey sat with his feet planted firmly in front of him. He knew Buffie didn’t like being told what to do, but she would never challenge authority, especially when they were strapped with deadly weapons. But he wasn’t his fiancée. They had no idea who they were messing with. Whenever the gumshoes came out, he would give them a piece of his mind. They did, after all, work for him.
“Mr. McCorvey,” Danica stepped out into the small waiting space. “We’re ready for you now.”
Chip looked at the tiny cop. It would be easier than he thought. He would throw his weight around, drop a few names to scare her, and he’d be out of there in no time flat. His swagger hit the floor when he walked into the room and saw the giant perched on the edge of the table.
“Have a seat Chip.” Chuck pointed to the chair. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

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