Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries)

distracting the rest of us at the gala. Nobody’s seen him since. Veronica’s still in the hospital, and Girard Dupres had a solid alibi since he was arrested Friday night for hiring a minor to dance at his club. And your pal Robbie Butler was at home all evening as far as the officers I had posted out front could tell.”
    “What about John Hyatt?”
    “We questioned everyone in Victor Mooney’s neighborhood after he was murdered, including John Hyatt. He and his estate manager were going over guest lists and details for some party that is held at the bank every year for the bigwigs. Loretta Swanson corroborated his story when we finally tracked her down. Neither of them noticed anything suspicious about Mr. Mooney’s behavior.”
    “Maybe they’re lying for each other,” I suggested. “John Hyatt has a fiancé, but he seems to spend a lot of time with his estate manager just to have a platonic relationship. And Loretta Swanson doesn’t seem like the type of woman to be platonic. She practically oozes sex.”
    “You’ve got that right,” Nick said with a dreamy smile.
    I kicked him in the shin and felt better.
    “Sheathe your claws, woman. For some reason I’m attracted to accident prone ex-strippers who have a jealous streak.”
    “Whatever. I bet you say that to all the girls.”
    He smiled but I could see the frustration and worry behind his eyes.
    “My gut tells me the two murders are related, but the evidence suggests there are different killers. We’ve got no DNA and so far we haven’t gotten any hits from the fingerprints found on the envelope. You’re the only thing that links both of them, Addison.”
    “So what are you saying?”
    “I’m saying be careful. And let me know if you get any other surprises.”
    “I’m not sure I can take any more surprises. My biggest fear at this point is I’ll damage my body even more than it already is. I haven’t been able to make it to my yoga classes in almost two weeks because I’ve been too sore.”
    Nick’s eyes glazed over at the mention of my yoga classes, and I could tell he already had grand plans for our upcoming date.
    “Do I need to leave you alone with your fantasies?” I asked.
    “Nah, you’ll be privy to them soon enough. Just make sure you don’t injure yourself anymore between now and tomorrow. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on my great idea.”
    “What great idea is that?”
    “The one where we’re both naked and your ankles are up by your ears.”
    My insides heated to the temperature of molten lava, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. The picture that Nick painted was awesome in my mind. It was too bad I’d have to disappoint him, because I didn’t think there was any way possible for my ankles to reach my ears with all of my swollen and bruised body parts. It probably wouldn’t be a bad idea for me to spend some time soaking in a hot tub though.

    I’d fallen asleep as soon as I’d gotten home from seeing Nick, and when I woke up I was running late for the Tupperware party at Rose Marie’s friend’s house.
    I jumped in the shower and tried to tame my hair, but it was still in shock from being chased with a weed whacker. I pulled on the first thing I could find in my closet and barely had time to put on lip gloss and slip on some sandals when I heard the knock at the door.
    I glanced at the clock on my way to the door and put a little jog in my step. My tongue caught in my throat when I opened the door and saw Nick leaning with one arm against the frame and holding a six-pack of Corona in the other. His hair was tousled from a long day at work and the dark stubble on his face was way past a five o’clock shadow. His blue eyes held heat and desire and something I didn’t even want to think about because I knew it would be dangerous.
    “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, you won’t make it to your party tonight and we definitely won’t make it to the restaurant I’ve made reservations at tomorrow night.”
    “Oh, man,” I said, licking my lips. That was an impressive threat. One I wasn’t sure I didn’t want to take him up on.
    “Wh —what are you doing here?” Great. The man had me reduced to a stuttering fool.
    “I’m here to watch the game,” he said, backing me slowly into my apartment. He slammed the door shut with his boot, and I gulped in reaction. “It’s the playoffs, you know.”
    “Of course I know. I have it set to TiVo. And besides, I’ve already told you