Page 89 of Icy Cold Death

When he looked over at Lucian, the attorney mouthed a word, hoping the dead man wasn’t watching.

Anchor.

Yeah, his fiancée told him about that, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it. Did he want the dead man sticking around and tied to his wife?

Bodhi’s soon-to-be wife?

Well, they were going to have to discuss it.

Sooner rather than later.

When he closed his laptop, Lucian knew what they needed to do before they landed.

“Everyone get a nap,” Lucian said, getting comfortable. “We’re about to have a really long day tomorrow.”

Yeah, this was going to be a nightmare.

How did they know?

A bitchy cop?

Bishop and Tori stirred up?

Someone was in trouble.

Call it a hunch.

Chapter Seven

Police Precinct

Saturday Morning

Seven A.M.

W hen you looked up the word bitchy in the dictionary, there would be four faces under it. Those would be the faces of Tori Littlemoon, Detective Bishop Monroe, Bexley Darby, and Hailey Draper.

The ladies were in no mood.

Ironically, they all had suites at the fancy hotel, but they’d spent the long night locked in a cell with the local arrestees.

The drunks.

The pissed off hookers.

Oh, and the drug dealers.

That was not a vacation for them. That was pretty much their normal lives when back home. Add in some bail skippers, and it was so damn familiar.

All of those people were waiting to see a judge, but a cocky cop thought that they’d be afraid of a group of people like this.

Why?

Because they were women.

Well, they had news for the detective.

They weren’t.

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