I’m Snow Into You (Sven’s Beard #1) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sven's Beard Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83331 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
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Grady: Just wanted to tell you about something. I’ll bring sandwiches. And if “lunch” is an option, I’m in.

I stood, about to run up to the apartment for an emergency leg-shaving session when it hit me what Grady probably wanted to tell me. He’d passed a lot of information on the money transfers to the state police, promising to update me when he heard anything back from them.

My heart raced with excitement as I texted him that I was on my way to see him instead.

Avon: I’m coming to you. Be there in 3 minutes.

“I have to run an errand,” I told Bess, grabbing my coat and shoving my phone into my bag.

I ran to the newsroom door, a blast of cold air hitting me in the face as I opened it. Grabbing my coat’s hood, I pulled it over my head, holding it in place as I checked for traffic and ran across the street. I couldn’t wait to find out Grady’s news.

Once inside City Hall, I stomped the snow from my boots and met Barb’s gaze across the lobby.

“Hi Avon,” she said brightly. “How are you?”

“Hi,” I said breathlessly. “The chief should be expecting me.”

She gave me a conspiratorial look. “I hear the two of you have been spending a lot of time together.”

I looked at the door that led to Grady’s office, willing him to open it and walk through the doorway. Barb was certainly in no hurry to let me in.

“He’s really just a big teddy bear, you know,” she said. “There’s a heart of gold in that big, burly chest.”

I smiled at her, dying inside. If Grady had an update on the case, I wanted to know what it was immediately. This was going to be the biggest story the Chronicle had ever broken. It wasn’t the time for small talk.

“Is he in his office?” I asked Barb.

She lowered her brows and squinted at her computer screen. “Yes, but I think he’s in a meeting.”

I took out my phone to text him, my impatience making it hard to stand still. Before I started typing, the door that led to his office opened and he stood there, filling the doorway and giving me a puzzled look.

“Everything okay?” he asked me.

I rushed over to him. “I just couldn’t wait until noon. Let’s go.”

He gave me a wry smile as I darted past him.

“My meeting was almost over anyway,” he said. “But I don’t have any sandwiches yet.”

He fell into step beside me, following me into his office, where he closed the door behind us.

“Been hitting the coffee hard this morning?” he asked, noticing how amped I was.

I set my bag in a chair and slid out of my coat. “Is there news on the case?”

He gave me a quick kiss, walked around his desk, and sat down in his big leather chair, picking up a manilla envelope. “I got something this morning. I was planning to look it over and tell you about it over lunch.”

“Let’s look at it now,” I said.

His expression turned hesitant. “This will have to be completely off the record. You can’t talk about it with anyone. I really shouldn’t be sharing information about an ongoing investigation with you.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You mean the investigation that wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t shown you those discrepancies in the budget?”

He put up a palm. “I know. I’m just telling you”

“Don’t patronize me, Grady.”

He arched a brow, falling silent for a few seconds. Our gazes locked in challenge, neither of us willing to back down.

“We already made a deal,” I finally said, my desire to know what was inside that envelope winning over my desire to banter it out right now. “I get all the information when the time comes. Either you trust me to do what I said, or you don’t.”

“I do.”

Radar jumped up onto his desk, cocking his head as he studied me. I got an odd sense that the cat thought it was protecting Grady somehow.

“Let’s open it,” Grady said. “You want to come around to this side so you can see it?”

I got up and walked over to his side of the desk, where he got up and offered me the chair.

“No, you sit,” I said.

“I’m fine. You go ahead and sit.”

I sat down just to end the standoff. Grady used a letter opener to open the end of the envelope and pulled out a handful of papers.

“This should be information about the account holder for KSK,” he said. “Everything was buried in corporate names, but I tracked down the registered agent and the state police were able to find out who owns the bank account.”

It was several papers held together by a paper clip, the first few pages looking like bank statements. The transfers into the account were all incredibly large sums.


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