Film at Eleven. Kelsey Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ Molly said, spinning on her heel and walking ahead of them.

      Chandler shook his head at the sight of her rigid back. His expression softened as his eyes dropped lower. Down to the gentle slope of her hips, lower still, to her shapely, toned legs. The woman had a great body.

      Chandler’s brother grabbed his upper arm, holding him back and leaning closer before whispering, “Killer body.”

      “You’re an old married guy, you shouldn’t be noticing bodies anymore. Killer or otherwise.”

      “Just doing my job,” Seth retorted.

      “How is admiring the good doctor’s tush part of your job description?”

      “Investigation.” Seth shoved his Stetson back against his forehead and tilted his head slightly to the right as they slowly followed Molly down the hallway.

      “Knock it off,” Chandler groused. “You have a beautiful wife. Go look at her.”

      “I do,” Seth said on a contented sigh. “Every chance I get.”

      “Then leave this one for me.” He saw Seth’s reproachful look out of the corner of his eye. “What?”

      “She knows Callie. And Sam. And Kevin. And Taylor.”

      Chandler’s brain flashed the images of his sister-in-law, his brother Sam, their son, and the Landrys’ housekeeper, Taylor Reese. None of the pictures in his mind deterred him from admiring the enticing view of Molly in her fitted navy suit. “So?”

      Seth made a sound somewhere between a grunt and a groan. “Don’t be stupid, Chandler. You know better than to fool around with a friend of the family. When it ends—and we both know it always does—there’ll be divided loyalties and hell to pay.”

      Chandler shrugged, knowing there was some merit to Seth’s argument. Very few things in life were as scary as the wrath of a woman. One surefire way to incur said wrath was to date and dump a friend. Women were amazing. Their friendships created a universal agreement that made the Musketeers look like pikers. Dump one and the others made you pay. Big-time.

      “I’m just window-shopping,” Chandler said. “No harm in that, is there?”

      “With you?” Seth asked. “Hell yes. You’re never satisfied by looking. Never were, never will be.”

      Chandler jabbed his brother in the ribs with his elbow. “I’ll have you know I’m the picture of self-control.”

      Rolling his eyes, Seth snickered. “You’re like a two-year-old, little brother. You need instant gratification. You see something you like, you want it five minutes ago. And you bore easily.”

      Chandler watched as Molly shifted her purse from one dainty hand to the other. “How could anyone get bored with such a stunning creature?”

      “You’d find a way,” Seth insisted. “Try some restraint. It builds character.”

      “Screw character,” Chandler whispered as he donned his best poker face.

      They reached the end of the corridor and Molly appeared to be at a loss. Placing his hand at the back of her waist, Chandler nudged her gently in the direction of the control booth. Inwardly he smiled as he felt her body shudder beneath his touch. To a lesser man, that might have been a deterrent. But he knew better. That small flinch was an acknowledgment, tangible proof that she was aware of his fingers splayed against her spine.

      “In here,” he said, stepping to the side of the door and gallantly making a production out of allowing her to enter first.

      Seth stepped forward and mumbled, “Suck up.”

      “Jealous.”

      “Hardly. I’ve got a wife, remember?”

      “Who wants a wife when you can have her?”

      “Who says you can have her?” Seth countered. “She seems pretty uninterested to me.”

      “She won’t be for long.”

      “Don’t go there, Chandler. She’s a nice lady. Been good to our family.”

      “And those are two very good reasons for me to invite her to dinner.”

      “Suit yourself,” Seth sighed. “But when you mess this up, I won’t save you from Callie or Taylor.”

      “Who says I’m going to screw up?”

      “Your entire life history.”

      He shrugged and muttered, “I wish I’d been an only child.” Still, Seth’s words struck an unpleasant chord. Though he’d bite off his tongue before admitting it to his brother, Chandler knew his dating credentials fell far short of stellar. He did tend to rush into relationships, only to discover after the fact that he’d chosen poorly. But that didn’t make him incapable of having a real relationship. Did it? He sighed. Okay, so he’d done some borderline wrong things. But never once, not even for a split second, had he ever intended to hurt anyone.

      Molly was fascinated by the vastly complicated electronic equipment crammed into a small, two-tiered room. One entire wall was monitors. Some were tuned to network programming, others were blank, still others were live feeds from the cameras located in the studios.

      There were two long consoles in the room, with too many switches, dials and colored buttons to count. Several casually attired people with headsets manned the control boards. Yanking off his headset, a rotund man in a rumpled golf shirt stepped forward to welcome them.

      She recognized the voice immediately. He was the producer who had called her with arrangements to do Good Morning Montana. He was also the disembodied voice she’d heard over the studio’s speakers.

      “I’m Mike Murray,” he said, offering a beefy hand, and looking at Seth over her shoulder. “We’ve got the tape all set-up, sheriff.”

      “Thank you,” Seth said. “Mind if we do this in private?”

      The producer looked perplexed. “Yeah, I do. This is a newsroom. If it turns out there’s something to this call, then we have a responsibility to our viewers to stay on top of it.”

      Seth did not appear pleased. “You also have a responsibility not to hinder my investigation.”

      The burly producer seemed to be mulling it over.

      Chandler stepped up and said, “Don’t sweat it, Mike, I’ll run the tape machine and if anything of interest comes of this, I’m on it.”

      As soon as the other employees were dismissed, Molly and Seth were given seats at the console. Chandler opted to lean against the edge of the second row, his fingers within easy reach of the machine’s controls.

      They watched the tape twice in silence, then Seth began asking for their impressions at various parts. After almost three hours, Molly had memorized every syllable of John’s call.

      “He’s young,” she said when the tape ended. “Early twenties.”

      “Why СКАЧАТЬ