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Back Sunset Beach Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. Epilogue
  71. Also by Mary Kay Andrews
  72. About the Author
  73. Newsletter Sign-up

“You’re crazy,” the woman said, turning to leave, hurrying toward the door, not bothering to take the brochure she hadn’t really wanted anyway.

“Not as crazy as you.” Sherri got up from her desk, for some reason grabbing a letter opener from the desktop. It had been a gift from the title insurance company, at their annual Christmas party.

She followed the woman outside to the parking lot, and as she opened the Camaro’s door, Sherri grabbed her arm and pressed the letter opener to a spot right between her big, flashy boobs.

“Don’t touch me,” the woman screeched. “Let me go.”

“Brice doesn’t care about you. You’re just another easy lay as far as he’s concerned,” Sherri said matter-of-factly. “So if I were you, Karen, or whatever your real name is, I’d drop him. If I were you, I’d stick to my own husband. You know, the one who gave you that nice big diamond you’re wearing.”

Sherri held up her left hand, flashing the tiny diamond chip on her own engagement ring. “This is the best a cop can afford.”

The other woman wrenched her arm away and hopped in the driver’s seat, making a show of locking the door. As she pulled out of the parking space, Sherri ran the letter opener along the side of the Camaro, leaving a long, thin scrape in its shiny orange paint job.

31

Ben and Drue were barely settled in their booth at a newly opened Mexican café on newly trendy Central Avenue. It was Tuesday, and the lunch was her payback to Ben for fixing OJ’s starter.

“I heard you did a ride-along with Zee yesterday,” Ben said. “How was it?”

“Interesting,” Drue said. “Once I got past him addressing me as ‘little girl’ and referring to himself as ‘Uncle Zee.’”

The waitress brought a bowl of chips and guacamole and their drinks, a craft beer for Ben and an iced tea for Drue.

“Yeah, Zee’s pretty old-school. But I bet it was cool as hell anyway.” He gulped his beer and scooped into the guac. “Where did you go?”

“You know that 7-Eleven slip-and-fall you guys told me was bogus? Well, somehow, the prospective client called back, and Jonah ended up referring the case to Brice, who kicked it over to Zee, who found a witness! It was this old lady who lives over in a pretty sketchy part of town. Long story short, Zee says he thinks Dad can get a fat settlement from the insurance company.”

“What was it like, riding shotgun with Jimmy Zee?”

“It was actually kind of amazing. I was scared, but once I got talking to the witness, I just started asking questions and things fell together.” She dug in her purse and held up the can of Mace. “Zee gave me this. Did you know he carries a gun in a holster under his shirt?”