Page 12 of Seven Deadly Sins

“What's on your mind?” Harper joined him. Exhaustion creased her pretty face. If the two of them didn't get some sleep, they'd be no good to anyone.

He explained his thoughts. “My brain is fuzzy from lack of sleep.”

“Mine, too. The fire department won't know anything for a few hours yet. If you don't mind me crashing on the other bed in your room, we can grab some sleep. The chief will call me when he knows something.”

“That's the best thing I've heard all day. I've got to warn you, though. The bed is hard.”

“I could sleep on a rock at this point. Let's run past my place, grab a change of clothes, then sleep.” He waited in the car while she ran into her house, returning a few minutes later with an overnight bag.

At the hotel, he changed into a pair of shorts to sleep in while Harper ducked into the bathroom. He widened his eyes when she came back out in an oversized tee-shirt that looked as if she had nothing on underneath. Nothing but shapely legs that seemed to go on forever.

He cleared his throat and climbed into his bed, covering with only a thin sheet. “Good night.”

She turned the air down, professing that she slept better in a cold room, then burrowed under the blankets in the other bed. “Good night.”

He lay awake for a while wondering if she had anything on under that shirt until weariness overtook his brain and his eyes drifted closed.

Chapter Five

He watched as the heavy woman devoured a glazed doughnut in four bites. His nose wrinkled in disgust. Gluttony. He shuddered and tossed his napkin onto his half-finished breakfast, his appetite ruined. How could such a fine establishment let in such a creature?

It didn't matter that the purse at her feet cost as much as his Italian leather shoes or that the designer dress that strained to cover her bulk cost more than most people's weekly salary. Something needed to be done.

Pride was supposed to be his focus right now, but the other sins kept raising their ugly heads and pulling him off track.

He waved over a server and ordered a dozen assorted pastries. Since the woman had ruined his breakfast, he'd take care of her himself. He drummed his fingers on the table as he waited, trying not to watch her eat. His gaze kept drifting that way as if he watched a fascinating animal behind bars at the zoo.

What he really wanted to do was let the news of the previous evening’s devastation entertain him. The detective and the FBI agent would be scurrying around trying to gather clues they wouldn't find. Another thing this woman ruined. Instead, he sat there waiting to pass judgment.

“Your order, sir.” The server sat a white box on the table.

“Thank you.” He pulled a vial from the inside pocket of his suit jacket, dribbled a liberal amount on the doughnuts, and slid a card under the treats on which he'd written, Glutton. Then, he called the server back over and asked that the box be given to the woman in the yellow dress.

He marched from the restaurant and grabbed a newspaper. A padded chair near a silk plant would provide a good place for him to watch from. He snapped open the paper and peered over the top. How many would she eat before keeling over?

The server sat the box on her table and pointed to the table that now sat vacant. The woman smiled, patted her hair, and glanced around the room.

Did she really think the doughnuts were from an admirer? The delusions of people never ceased to amaze him.

She opened the box. Her red lips made an O resembling the hole in the doughnuts. She clutched one with scarlet talons and took a big bite. The second doughnut had her clutching her stomach. She dropped it on the pristine tablecloth, groaned, and landed face first in the box.

He folded his paper, dropped it in a nearby trashcan, and strolled from the building. Cries of alarm followed him. His morning seemed a little brighter now.

In his office, he turned on the television, surprised not to see the detective or the agent at the scene. The naughty two must have slept in. Didn't they care that the sheep they tried to protect needed them or were they like their grandfathers and fathers who cared only for themselves? The two were the poster children for greed.

The building still smoldered. Firemen milled about. Some curious onlookers huddled across the street. The obedient servant he'd sent to set the bomb watched over a woman's shoulder. Why was he still there? Everyone knew the perpetrator stayed behind to see the results of their handiwork. Any camera footage would show his face. He'd be located and questioned.

He pressed numbers into his phone. “Get out of there you imbecile.” He hung up as his servant stepped backward and marched down the sidewalk.

Shaking his head, he pressed the intercom on his desk phone and called for Sarah. She would clean up the situation.

“Yes, sir.”

“Get rid of David. I don't care how, but make sure he's never found. Erase all evidence the man ever existed. He’s an idiot.”

~

Harper had taken a long time to fall asleep. Hearing the soft snores from Liam in the other bed made her realize how long it had been since she'd been interested in a man. Not that she was interested, not during an active investigation, but the man did have what it took. Brains, handsome, kind, and an accent that fluttered her stomach.