Free Dylan's Witch: 10 (Supernatural Bonds) by Jory Strong Page A

herself before it got there.
    “Mind if I use your bathroom?” Dylan asked, snapping her attention to him.
    “Yeah, I do mind. Are we done?”
    He let Trace make the call in the affirmative, after a few more questions that didn’t go anywhere.
    She body blocked them back to the front door.
    They didn’t speak until they were in the car, Trace once again behind the wheel.
    “Either she made us as homicide cops by our abundant good looks and took a giant deductive leap as to why we were there,” Trace said. “Or she was expecting us.”
    “The second has my vote. Her curiosity didn’t extend to asking us again if her sister killed someone. Now the question is, who didn’t she want us to see? First time I’ve ever had anyone deny me a pee.”
    Trace laughed and flicked his cell phone open. “Who, or what?” But it was rhetorical given his quick hit to speed dial and his saying, “Hey, you and Brady still in the bullpen? Great. Do me a favor, pull up the accident report on Deana Young.” He paused, allowing for the necessary keystrokes. “Anybody else in the car with her? Thanks.”
    Trace slipped the phone back in his pocket.
    “Let me guess,” Dylan said. “You have a bona fide clue . What’d Storm say?”
    “Elaine’s sixteen-year-old son was in the car with Deana and severely injured. Report says possible spinal damage. Storm’s going to follow-up, see what shape he was in when he got discharged from the hospital.”
    “That explains the ramp. Could explain what she didn’t want us to see, a kid needing more care than she’s going to be able to provide without financial assistance.”
    “Or a chance to capitalize on her sister’s feelings of guilt.”
    “Cold.” Not that they hadn’t seen plenty of it when it came to murderers. “So a money motive for Nicole Harper getting shanked?”
    “Shanked by an inmate with no priors for violence. By one whose sister started visiting her out of the blue.”
    Dylan reflected for all of a quarter second. “I like it. Money works for me.”
    “Are we good or are we good?”
    “We’re golden.”
    “Feel like a visit to County?”
    “Probably a waste of time.”
    “More than probably, but what the hell, let’s go.”

Chapter Five
     
    Conner slowed the sleek craft he’d borrowed from Pierce, Storm’s secret husband. Jesus. The captain would keel over if he knew what had happened to his homicide squad. Storm’s being with two guys, one of them co-owner of the infamous Drake’s Lair, would probably be just the thing to lead to a bout of fatal indigestion.
    His gaze moved to the black wolf at the helm of the boat— or not . He grinned and said, “Just a man and his dog out fishing. I could get used to this silent companionship.”
    The wolf looked at him, lips pulling back to expose a hint of very sharp canines. Her light brown eyes promised payback.
    “Bring it on,” he said.
    She snorted and turned her attention to the saw grass plane they were pushing through.
    He glanced down at Miguel’s map and knew fun and games would have to wait. They were close to where X may or may not mark the spot.
    The slight rocking of the boat had him looking up to catch that instant when wolf changed to woman in a shimmer of magic. There was a split second of awe at what she was, followed immediately by sheer male pleasure as she stood, at being the man lucky enough to snag such a gorgeous woman.
    “You going to bite me now?” he asked.
    Khemirra snapped her teeth together. “I might, if you’re a good boy.”
    “Boy? Did you shift just so you could insult me?”
    “Nope. You’re going to need another pair of eyes. There’s something freshly dead somewhere in the saw grass.”
    Conner frowned. “Fresh? I kind of figured we were looking for a skeleton given Miguel’s description.” And they were a good forty yards from the cluster of mangroves.
    “The nose doesn’t lie,” she said, tapping hers.
    He slowed the boat further. Despite what she’d