Free Double Booked for Death by Ali Brandon

image. Callie, however, appeared suitably impressed.
    “I will.” Then, turning to Darla again, she said, “But what about Hamlet? That’s what I came to ask. I’m worried he’d be scared by all the people.”
    “Don’t worry about Hamlet. He’s been lounging around the store happy as a clam despite the noise. I’ll run him back upstairs to my apartment in a little bit. He’ll probably sleep the rest of the day and not bother anyone.”
    Or so she hoped. The last thing this event needed was Mr. Hell on Paws racing about, no matter that he was properly dressed for it. And if he escaped out the front door . . . well, she wasn’t sure who she feared for more, Hamlet or the outside world.
    Mollified, Callie trudged back to her spot in line.
    “Cute kid,” Reese commented after her. “But I sure hope for her sake she lightens up by the time she gets to high school. That bookworm thing doesn’t go over much with the guys.”
    “What’s wrong with being a bookworm?” Darla demanded, bristling on the girl’s behalf. She had been a bookworm herself and had managed to get a few dates despite that.
    Reese seemed to realize he’d stepped in it, for he raised both hands in surrender. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything. I’m just not much on wasting my time on books . . . not that there’s anything wrong with selling them or anything . . .” He trailed off as he obviously recalled that books were the livelihood of the woman paying his check this day. “Uh, no offense.”
    “None taken,” Darla replied with a brilliantly fake smile.
    Barbarian , she inwardly groused, recalling why she never had been attracted to corn-fed blond musclemen. Most of them looked upon a book as nothing more than a handy item to prop up the leg of an uneven couch.
    “I’ll send Lizzie out with some sandwiches and drinks for you and Jake in a few minutes. In the meantime, keep up the good work, and let me know if any spontaneous outbursts of reading occur, okay?”
    Still smiling, she drew aside Jake, who had joined them in time to overhear the last exchange, and muttered in her ear, “So where did you say you found Mr. Literary Guild, here?”
    “Hey, he’s a good guy,” Jake protested mildly as they headed toward the store entrance. “He might not settle in with a book every night like some people, but he has a photographic memory and better street smarts than most cops I know. Not only that, he was the guy who jumped out from behind a squad car and pulled me out of the line of fire the day I was shot. I owe him my life.”
    Feeling abruptly and suitably chastened, Darla spared another look back at Reese. He’d resumed his tough-guy stance and was dutifully ignoring the occasional “Oooh, baby!” shouted his way by one or another of the girls. In the brief time she’d known Jake, the woman had never given more than the barest details of what had happened that day that ended her police career, but Darla guessed it had been pretty bad. She was more than willing to give Reese the benefit of the doubt now, knowing his role in the affair.
    “Besides,” Jake added, giving her a friendly nudge in the ribs, “he’s damn good-looking. If nothing else, I keep him around just so I can drool over him.”
    Darla gave a surprised little laugh. Jake had never hinted at any sort of personal relationship, and the only people she’d seen visit the woman besides herself were James and Lizzie. Truth be told, she’d assumed upon their first meeting that Jake batted for the other team, as Darla’s terminally unenlightened ex-husband would have put it. Not that Darla cared about the older woman’s orientation, nor had Jake ever even hinted at wanting anything more than friendship between the two of them, but she’d just . . . assumed. Now, seeing Jake’s obvious appreciation for a guy who reasonably could be termed a hunk, Darla reconsidered. Had she fallen into the age-old trap of stereotyping a strapping female cop?
    Aloud, she merely