Kissing the Key Witness. Jenna Ryan

Kissing the Key Witness - Jenna  Ryan


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      “I believe this samba has our name on it.”

      “No more shoptalk,” she said when he set his hands on her waist and followed her to the dance floor. “But neck nuzzling is definitely allowed.”

      For a moment, as they passed the line of French doors, she heard the wind raging outside. Then it was all music and the magic of the moment. And Tal.

      He was hot, and dazzling her with his aura. The sexy, sensual essence that was and always had been uniquely Tal. She was losing herself in it, until he spoke.

      “This isn’t why I came tonight, Maya,” he said against her hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Lowering his head, he slid his tongue over her ear. “You’re not making this any easier.”

      “You couldn’t hurt me if you wanted to, Tal.”

      “Consider yourself warned,” he murmured against her throat before he kissed her.

      Jenna Ryan

      Kissing the Key Witness

      Merlyn;

       You were the love and the joy of our lives. On to the next big adventure. Have fun, sweetheart…

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      Jenna Ryan loves creating dark-haired heroes, heroines with strength and good murder mysteries. Ever since she was young, she has had an extremely active imagination. She considered various careers over the years and dabbled in several of them, until the day her sister Kathy suggested she put her imagination to work and write a book. She enjoys working with intriguing characters and feels she is at her best writing romantic suspense. When people ask her how she writes, she tells them by instinct. Clearly it’s worked, since she’s received numerous awards from Romantic Times BOOKreviews. She lives in Canada and travels as much as she can when she’s not writing.

      CAST OF CHARACTERS

      Maya Santino—An E.R. doctor, she was the last person her ex spoke to before he died.

      Stephen Talbot (Tal)—Miami Homicide lieutenant, he must protect Maya from the people who want to kill her.

      Gene ‘Quick Draw’ McGraw—How far will the Fraud cop go for a promotion to Homicide?

      Don Drake—The Homicide captain is living better than he should.

      Nate Hammond—The retired Fraud captain pursued but never caught his notorious nemesis.

      Jamie Hazell—The E.R. nurse has serious financial problems.

      Orlando Perine—The powerful corporate mogul has cops on his payroll and a very vindictive nature.

      Falcom—He turned on his powerful boss. Now, he is desperate to get back the information he sold to the police.

      Adam Tyler—Maya’s ex-husband hid important information right before he died.

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Prologue

      August in Miami.

      Even in the dead of night, the air felt heavy. Prickles, like spiky fingernails, danced along fraud detective Adam Tyler’s spine. He smelled more than fetid air outside the waterfront warehouse. Anticipation carried its own scent, and he’d been breathing it since late afternoon.

      Too bad his captain had gone deep-sea fishing for the weekend, unplugged and incommunicado until Sunday night. But no sweat. Adam had been a detective since before his ill-fated marriage seven years ago. He could sit on anything, big or small, for a couple of days.

      “Yeah, right.” He grinned as he pulled the parking brake on his prized 1967 Shelby Mustang. “And pink elephants really do exist.”

      He glanced at his watch before heading to one of the small bay doors. He’d met snitches here countless times over the years. The Cuban-born owners knew that but said nothing, because—big surprise—they didn’t want the contents of their shipping crates examined by anyone calling himself a cop.

      The prickles continued to tap-dance across his skin, Adam gave his eyes a few seconds to adjust, then made his way to the storage unit’s crowded center.

      It smelled worse in here than outside. Tiny claws scrabbled on concrete as he squeezed between the towering crates. Catching a movement ahead, he let the grin return. His informant was acting more like the rodents around him than the bird of prey whose code name he’d adopted. The man’s head shot up as Adam’s holster scraped across the face of a crate marked Bananas.

      “Only me,” he said when Falcon’s hand crawled inside his hoodie. “For the record, I was off duty and halfway across the city when you called.”

      “I want it back.”

      Adam resisted the urge to laugh. Not only had his snitch been pacing like a jittery rat, but in the bad light he actually resembled one. A cartoon version, with popping eyes, long fingers and feet comically elongated by deep patches of black.

      He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sorry, pal, but it’s done. I’ve got my evidence. You’ve got your immunity. Fair deal all around.”

      “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to turn him in.”

      Adam leaned on one of the towers. “Uh, refresh my memory. Who came to whom, begging for help?”

      Falcon spoke through clenched teeth. “I had my reasons back then. Situation’s changed. I want it back.”

      “Not an option.” Adam reached for his backup weapon. “And if you’re thinking about shooting me for it, you’ll be wasting good bullets. I’ve already—”

      “Your captain’s gone fishing,” Falcon blurted, then offered a cynical smile. “I’ve got my sources, too, Tyler. You haven’t turned it over yet. Can’t until Monday. Means my boss’ll be free to kill me for another sixty hours. Even then I won’t be safe. I’m not the only person on his payroll.”

      “Just the most cowardly.” Adam shrugged. “Or maybe the most desperate.”

      “Do you know what he’s capable of?”

      “I’ve seen his work.”

      Falcon made a frantic flapping motion. “He’s got, like, elephant ears.”

      “Well, I’ve got, like, elephant feet, and one of them’s about to boot you in your canary-yellow ass. He won’t—”

      “He will.”

      “Falcon, even Orlando Perine wouldn’t—”

      His informant surged forward, teeth bared. “Talk about asses. I’m telling you, Tyler, he’ll yawn while he’s pulling the trigger. That’s how big a deal murder is to him. We’re talking ice water for blood. Reptilian brain. No emotion. Okay, I was desperate to get out, get away, so I did something stupid. But he found out. He knows someone’s turned. Doesn’t know who. Only that one of his people sold him out. Or is about to. Bottom line? It’s not worth


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