Page 97 of Icy Cold Death

Yeah, she wished.

Only, this was her gift, and he had played with the wrong ladies. Julian kept her calm.

Julian wasn’t here, now was he?

“Ask me anything,” she said, playing this game a whole hell of a lot with skeptics.

He went there.

“What did I eat for breakfast?”

Tori watched the dead wife.

“He doesn’t eat breakfast. Not since I died. He used to have oatmeal with peaches.”

She focused on him.

“Nothing.”

“Good guess.”

“Well, since Carolyne died, you don’t eat breakfast. She used to make you oatmeal with peaches every morning. How sweet. Opposites attract because she’s a sweetheart. You’re a dick.”

He stared.

“You…”

She knew what was next.

It was always the same.

“I what? Researched you? Yeah, no. What I did was talk to your dead wife. She’s in all blue. The apron is checkered. Did you treat her like you treat every other woman you come across? Or do you just hate us because we lived and she didn’t?”

He closed his mouth.

BINGO.

“Here’s my suggestion,” Tori said. “I’d uncuff us, and fast.”

“Why should I?” he asked.

Bethany warned her.

“Incoming. Lucian is about to kick in the door, and he has company. The man’s boss is with him. Someone is in trouble.”

Good.

She looked at the door.

“My attorney in three, two, one, meet Lucian Monroe,” she said. “Our detective’s husband,” she added.

When the door opened, he walked in, slamming his brief case on the desk. Beside him, Ridge was there, and they looked very unhappy.

Oh, but it got worse.

Behind them, in came a man in captain’s blues, and he was pissed too.

“Why did I just get a call from the Deputy Director of the FBI?” he asked before Lucian could even begin. “Why is freaking Elizabeth Blackhawk threatening me with the DOJ and a visit here to bust my balls into next year? Because she just called me on my private line, somehow.”

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