front door, then rang the doorbell.
The porch light came on just before the door was thrown open and a petite woman with long, flaming red curls stepped out with a smile on her face and a bottle of wine in her hand.
“Angela, it’s about . . .” Her voice stopped when she saw J.D. standing there. She inhaled sharply, a look of confusion and a little bit of panic crossed her face.
He scowled. She should be frightened. He wasn’t in uniform. What was she thinking, opening the door to a strange man late at night with not so much as a ‘Who’s there?’ He let her flounder for a brief moment, before introducing himself. Maybe she’d think twice before doing it again.
He reached into his pocket for his badge. “I’m with the police, ma’am.” He flashed his badge.
She studied the badge, her brows furrowed delicately between dazzling amber eyes. Her lips curved. “Stacey. Please call me Stacey.”
J.D. froze, caught in the beam of her thousand-watt smile. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “I just have a couple questions for you regarding Angela Beebe.”
Her eyes widened. “Angela? Did something happen to Angela?” Her voice rose.
“No, she’s fine. If you don’t mind, could we please step inside? This won’t take long.”
A pink tongue darted out between her lips in a nervous gesture. His pulse raced with interest. She was a beautiful woman. Tiny and full figured, some might even consider her plump. She stood no more than five feet. But those five feet packed a helluva punch. Her fashionable outfit emphasized her generous curves. His mouth went dry, imagining how he’d slowly stroke her soft curves. She’d be a pleasant handful, no doubt about it.
Stacey stepped back and waved him in, shutting the door behind them. The musical sound of jingling jewelry moved with her as they made their way to the living room. She took a seat on a black leather loveseat. J.D. settled into the matching chair across from her.
“So, Officer, what’s going on with Angela?” Concern vibrated in her voice.
“Ma’am,” J.D began.
“Stacey, remember? Ma’am is my mother.” Her eyes twinkled at him for a second, before turning serious.
J.D. smiled. She was adorable, and he had a feeling bubbly just about summed her up. Even her voice was cute, with a high musical pitch. And she spoke twice as fast as normal, as though she rushed to get the words out before anyone could stop her. “Stacey, Angela is fine, but she ran into a little bit of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“She was struck by a car two days ago—”
Stacey jumped up, which, at her height, put her chest at the level of his eyes. The deep V of her blouse showcased her generous cleavage. She was close enough that if he leaned forward he could press his mouth against the tempting swells.
“Is she okay?”
He lifted his gaze. “She’s fine. Please, take a seat.”
J.D. needed her to sit so he could focus. He’d dated a couple women over the last year and had even slept with one, awakening his libido from a long hibernation after his wife’s death, even as it had filled him with guilt. He’d been celibate again now for over five months, with not the slightest interest in bedding a woman again. Until now.
Concern radiated from every pore as she took a seat. He brought her up to speed on the situation. Her soft feminine gasps only intensified his interest.
J.D. gave her a minute to digest the information. “Can you tell me anything about Angela’s husband?”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “He was a bastard.”
He quirked a brow. “How so?”
Stacey glanced away. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”
“This is a police investigation, Stacey. I need you to tell me everything you know.”
“Why don’t you ask Angela?”
“I need you to answer the question, please.”
Her eyes narrowed and her full lips thinned. She stood and walked to a china cabinet, retrieved something and turned back to him, one hip braced on
The porch light came on just before the door was thrown open and a petite woman with long, flaming red curls stepped out with a smile on her face and a bottle of wine in her hand.
“Angela, it’s about . . .” Her voice stopped when she saw J.D. standing there. She inhaled sharply, a look of confusion and a little bit of panic crossed her face.
He scowled. She should be frightened. He wasn’t in uniform. What was she thinking, opening the door to a strange man late at night with not so much as a ‘Who’s there?’ He let her flounder for a brief moment, before introducing himself. Maybe she’d think twice before doing it again.
He reached into his pocket for his badge. “I’m with the police, ma’am.” He flashed his badge.
She studied the badge, her brows furrowed delicately between dazzling amber eyes. Her lips curved. “Stacey. Please call me Stacey.”
J.D. froze, caught in the beam of her thousand-watt smile. He cleared his throat and swallowed. “I just have a couple questions for you regarding Angela Beebe.”
Her eyes widened. “Angela? Did something happen to Angela?” Her voice rose.
“No, she’s fine. If you don’t mind, could we please step inside? This won’t take long.”
A pink tongue darted out between her lips in a nervous gesture. His pulse raced with interest. She was a beautiful woman. Tiny and full figured, some might even consider her plump. She stood no more than five feet. But those five feet packed a helluva punch. Her fashionable outfit emphasized her generous curves. His mouth went dry, imagining how he’d slowly stroke her soft curves. She’d be a pleasant handful, no doubt about it.
Stacey stepped back and waved him in, shutting the door behind them. The musical sound of jingling jewelry moved with her as they made their way to the living room. She took a seat on a black leather loveseat. J.D. settled into the matching chair across from her.
“So, Officer, what’s going on with Angela?” Concern vibrated in her voice.
“Ma’am,” J.D began.
“Stacey, remember? Ma’am is my mother.” Her eyes twinkled at him for a second, before turning serious.
J.D. smiled. She was adorable, and he had a feeling bubbly just about summed her up. Even her voice was cute, with a high musical pitch. And she spoke twice as fast as normal, as though she rushed to get the words out before anyone could stop her. “Stacey, Angela is fine, but she ran into a little bit of trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“She was struck by a car two days ago—”
Stacey jumped up, which, at her height, put her chest at the level of his eyes. The deep V of her blouse showcased her generous cleavage. She was close enough that if he leaned forward he could press his mouth against the tempting swells.
“Is she okay?”
He lifted his gaze. “She’s fine. Please, take a seat.”
J.D. needed her to sit so he could focus. He’d dated a couple women over the last year and had even slept with one, awakening his libido from a long hibernation after his wife’s death, even as it had filled him with guilt. He’d been celibate again now for over five months, with not the slightest interest in bedding a woman again. Until now.
Concern radiated from every pore as she took a seat. He brought her up to speed on the situation. Her soft feminine gasps only intensified his interest.
J.D. gave her a minute to digest the information. “Can you tell me anything about Angela’s husband?”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “He was a bastard.”
He quirked a brow. “How so?”
Stacey glanced away. “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”
“This is a police investigation, Stacey. I need you to tell me everything you know.”
“Why don’t you ask Angela?”
“I need you to answer the question, please.”
Her eyes narrowed and her full lips thinned. She stood and walked to a china cabinet, retrieved something and turned back to him, one hip braced on
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