Free Cold Sweat by J.S. Marlo

the lovely married woman who stood helplessly by her husband’s side, fluttering long eyelashes over dark brown eyes filled with anguish and pain. Too bad Rich didn’t carry any trophies with him.
    “My wife is very distressed over those awful accusations, Sheriff.”
    The allegedly distressed woman timidly slipped a hand under her husband’s elbow. “I swear I never met the senator until my husband dragged me here.”
    Never met the senator? Unlike Norman, it appeared Marcella had forgotten about the kiss and the friendly walk on the trails.
    Rich had no doubt the senator had purposely set him up in order to deflect the wrath of an angry husband, but if he played his next hand correctly, the tides might turn in his favor.
    “Without giving too many details, I can say we identified the man posing as the senator. It’s only a matter of time before we find the other participants. In the meantime, I would appreciate if you kept this information to yourself.”
    “Yes. Of course. Thank you, Sheriff.” Relief lifted years from De La Costa’s features. “Senator, I’m sorry for my rather...abrupt and rude entrance. I was angry for no reason.”
    “Apology accepted, Senhor.” The senator’s arrogance, as he shook the husband’s hand, churned Rich’s stomach.
    As soon as the door closed behind the couple, Norman removed his jacket and rolled his sleeves. “You avoided a diplomatic incident, Morgan. You can go now.”
    “We’re not done, Norman.” Unfazed by the senator’s unfriendly glare, Rich sat in a deep burgundy padded chair with his elbows on his knees. “Once I arrest Serpent, I’ll make sure he produces all the other pictures he snapped of you and Marcella, and testifies under oath of their authenticity. I can easily expose your little secret—or I can protect it. Your choice.”
    Blood rose to the senator’s head. “Are you blackmailing me, Morgan?”
    “Yes.” The few people to ever call his bluffs had ended up dead or seriously injured. Rich wasn’t ready to make an exception for the senator.
    Norman’s nostrils flared as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “What do you want?”
    “The truth.” A girl’s life depended on the answers Rich extracted from the man. “I don’t care how many women you slept with. Did you get any of them pregnant?”
    “There...there might have been a few accidents.” Defiance seeped from every pore of his body. “I sent them to Barry. I don’t have any other children.”
    “Is Barry a place or a person?” Rich needed details.
    “He’s a doctor. I don’t know his first name.”
    Hell, you don’t. “That’s what Serpent meant when he accused you of having your children’s blood on your hands, isn’t it?” The senator’s arrogant behavior incensed Rich. “Except Serpent seems to be under the impression you or your doctor forgot to get rid of one daughter.”
    “For the last time, Morgan, I wasn’t sloppy. Nobody knew about them.”
    Someone had broken the silence and Serpent had listened.
    Sooner or later, the truth always comes out. “I want those women’s names.”
    “You think I’m stupid enough to keep a list?”

Chapter Nine
    Still reeling from his encounter with the politician and his short conversation with his female deputy, Rich entered the maintenance bay at Snowy Tip.
    Two mechanics in royal blue overalls stained with grease patches, fiddled with the engine of a snowmobile. A plump blonde in her mid-forties held two hoses out of the way of a burly young fellow maneuvering a wrench. When the man glanced in his direction, Rich inwardly winced. The large bruise on the side of the fellow’s jaw looked fresh and painful.
    From the back of the bay, Wayne River motioned for Rich to approach. The master map of the mountains had been taped to the wall and color-coded for easy reference. Two-thirds of the quadrants were crossed off.
    “As you can see, we’re making progress. We’re just not finding anything.” A soulful sigh rose