Free Last of the Red-Hot Riders by Tina Leonard Page A

his plates to locate his next of kin.” He glanced toward the overflowing parking lot, and the cars and trucks parked across the two-lane road in front of the Honky-tonk. “It’s gonna be a bear’s ass to find out which vehicle is his.”
    Great. It wasn’t necessarily Ivy’s fault if someone had overdosed on her property, and though this wasn’t the first time it had happened, it was the first time it had resulted in a death, if that was the cause. But her business definitely brought in characters looking for a walk on the wild side. “I guess I’ll go find Ivy and tell her, if you want to stay here to watch the body get loaded up.”
    “Cartwright’s got it handled. I’ll go with you. I want a word with Ivy myself.”
    Saint, Steel, and Cameron moved through the crowd and went into the Honky-tonk. Most of the patrons weren’t too concerned about a stiff outside; they were too focused on the good time they were having and the possibility of that good time leading to a better time later. Couples danced, some making out furiously, practically undressing each other on the floor. He pressed close to Cameron. “I’ll feel better if you stay right by my side.”
    She nodded. “I’ve got your back. No worries.”
    He raised a brow. She winked at him, and he turned to follow Steel deeper into Ivy’s lair.
    The lady of the establishment seemed completely unconcerned about the poor devil who’d met his maker. She stood at the bar, conducting a sing-along, which died the second she saw Steel.
    “Well, helloooo, Sheriff,” she said, her voice a throaty invitation.
    She’d changed for the nighttime festivities. Her luxurious two-toned hair slithered over her shoulders and down her back in a sexy wash of silver over mahogany. Her silver dress, painted right onto her body, shimmered under the chandeliers. The dress stopped at heart-attack length, and with the sky-high sparkling silver shoes showing off shell-shaped hot-pink toenails and dancer’s legs, Saint froze a little in the face of all that firepower.
    It was like watching a beautiful silver snake hypnotize its victims.
    “Ivy,” Steel said, “this is the second dead body at your place. I’ve warned you about keeping tighter tabs on your clientele.”
    “In ten years,” Ivy reminded him, her voice soft. “You’re not still upset about that little murder thing, are you, Steel?” She wound a hand around his biceps. Saint stepped closer, and Ivy removed her hand for a second. “Let me buy you a drink, Sheriff.”
    “No thank you, Ivy.” Steel drew himself up. “Next unfortunate incident out here, I’ll close you down.”
    Ivy smiled. “And then what would Hell do for revenue, Steel?”
    Saint blinked. She had a point, not that any of them wanted to admit it.
    “How will the town pay for clean water and utilities and infrastructure?” Ivy slowly cocked her head, wearing a dangerous smile. “With kissing booths?”
    Steel didn’t say anything. Saint glanced toward the sheriff in surprise. It looked like he’d gone still, transfixed. Saint decided to step in. “Kissing booths could be lucrative, Ivy. Our offer still stands.”
    She laughed. “As you can see, we have all the kissing we need right here.” Her bare arm drew a languid circle around the room. “Ask our darling Cameron if she thinks my establishment is too dangerous to visit.” Ivy smiled. “She’s been out here many times, and nothing’s ever happened to her. Has it, Cameron?”
    Saint felt all the air leave him. That was a direct violation of Judy’s rules, and Ivy knew it. By the darkening of Cameron’s freckles and the distress in her big eyes, he knew Ivy had just spilled her secret on purpose, in front of Steel.
    And it was a doozy of a secret. Judy would kick Cameron off the team if she found out—and Ivy damn well knew it.

Chapter 6
    Cameron glared at Ivy, who knew that she was getting her in a whole lot of trouble. The only possible purpose that ratting her out