Free Rausch & Donlon - Can Be Murder 01 - Headaches Can Be Murder by Marilyn Rausch, Mary Donlon

woods. She parked the car under the broad overhang, and they walked into the lobby.
    While Jo checked them in at the front desk, John walked over to the massive freestanding stone fireplace in the middle of the lobby, with a cozy fire blazing. He pulled off his gloves and held his hands out to the fireplace screen. The warmth crept through his body. When Jo walked over to where he stood, he said, “This feels great. Forget the condo. I’ll just bunk here.”
    Jo held up a key card. “Come on. Would it help if I told you our condo has a fireplace, too?”
    “I knew there was something I liked about you. A girl who believes in creature comforts.”
    “Let’s go. We have to drive over to the condo.”
     
     
    “I can’t believe we’re getting such fast Internet service way out here in the boonies.” John clicked away at the keyboard of his laptop. “Hey, listen to this. I followed a link on NeuroDynamics’s website to an article Candleworth wrote for one of the major medical journals. He says that they are on the verge of a breakthrough to controling seizures, not just migraines and depression.”
    She stepped behind John and looked down at his laptop screen. She leaned over, and they quietly read the article.
    John had a hard time focusing. When she stood so close to him, he caught a whiff of her perfume. Nothing flowery for this special agent. It was an enticing blend of vanilla and ginger. He inhaled deeply.
    She straightened up and crossed her arms across her chest. “Well, would you look at that? That’s where the real money is. Military contracts. Now we’re talking numbers in the stratosphere.”
    John whistled. “You’re not kidding. The potential for healing soldiers with brain injuries is incredible.”
    “A big contract like that is ripe for abuse.”
    John sighed and closed down his laptop. “Enough for now. I’m running on empty. Let’s try the restaurant in the hotel.”
    Jo grinned. “You read my mind. I’m famished.”
     
     
    John finished the last bite of his grilled walleye and chased it down with a swallow of chardonnay. He wiped his lips with the napkin and pushed away from the table, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “That was great! Who would’ve thought lake fish could be so tasty?”
    Jo had finished eating her small side salad and half order of manicotti some time ago. Amusement gave way to amazement when he finished an appetizer, a dinner-sized salad, and a large entrée. She shook her head. “What, no room for dessert? Jeez, do you always eat that much? It’s a wonder that you don’t weigh three hundred pounds!”
    “I’ve been blessed with a fast metabolism and a tall frame. That, and I swim to stay in shape. Wait until you see me put away breakfast.”
    Jo leaned back into her chair and took a sip from her wineglass. “So, Doctor, how is it that a world-renowned neurosurgeon such as yourself has time to spend with the FBI?”
    John looked over at Jo. “I love my job. Most of the time, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing.” He shrugged. “But even I need a break now and then. Agent Tinsdale is my old college roommate. Occasionally, he calls me up for help on a particular case that falls within my area of expertise. I was able to reschedule some cases and handed off the rest to colleagues. I find working with the FBI rewarding on a different level altogether.”
    “You know, working this case might mean a lot of down time at first, especially while I find a way into the company. You okay with that?”
    His lips curved into a lazy smile and he stretched. “Looking forward to a little down time. Besides, I have faith in you. You’ll find info soon enough, and then we’ll both be busy.”
    There was a sudden buzzing from Jo’s cell phone that she had placed on the table. She flipped it open and answered it, still thinking about John and all that food. “Hey, Detective Frisco. I was planning on calling you… You found what? Oh, my God!”
    Jo’s