by Mia Dymond
“Sometimes it’s difficult,” Dara admitted.
“Yes,” Sara agreed, “but we always know who committed the crime and why.”
“I hate to run but we’ve got several stops.” Dara stood and Marnie followed suit. “Thanks for the help, Sara. At least we all agree on one thing – our suspect is male.”
“I’m as sure as I can be about that.” The author followed them out of the room and back down the hallway until she opened the door. “Feel free to call if I can help.”
Once she and Marnie sat buckled safely behind the closed door of her Lexus, her friend released a heavy breath. “Geez! I think she fractured my ribs!”
Dara giggled at Marnie’s brutal honesty. “I tried to warn you.”
“There wasn’t a remote chance of escape, Dara.”
“Probably not,” she admitted, “but at least we did draw the conclusion the killer is male.”
“I’m not sure I feel better having that information, and I may regret asking this but, what now?”
“We go see Chad.”
“Chad? Why?”
“To cement our alibi. We need to make absolutely sure his cameras recorded our meeting.” She glanced out the window, not surprised to see a familiar approaching vehicle. “Here comes the cavalry.”
Marnie groaned. “You promised me we wouldn’t be arrested.”
“We won’t be arrested, just interrogated.”
“Again.”
“Stop being paranoid.” Dara sighed and rolled down her window as the driver pulled the car up next to her vehicle. “Detectives,” she drawled.
“Mace’s eyes sparkled in the sunlight, from anger or curiosity she didn’t know. “Ladies.”
“Are you tailing me?”
“Nope, I see it more like preventing you from interfering in my investigation.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Something tells me you’re here to discuss murder.”
She threw him a mental duh. “I am. Sara and I both write it.”
“Evelyn Wallace’s murder.”
“Actually, we didn’t discuss Evelyn at all.” Well, almost not at all.
“Out.”
As soon as he placed his hand on the chrome door handle, she clicked the doors locked. “I have an appointment.”
“It can wait.”
“How do you know?” She tapped her fingernails against the steering wheel, almost expecting him to say he knew her full itinerary for the afternoon.
Instead, he gestured with his head at the door handle. “Out,” he repeated.
She huffed while she released the locks. “You have an annoying habit of telling me what to do,” she pointed out as she left the car and shut the door.
“Yet you refuse to do as I say.”
“And you like it.”
“Come again?”
She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back against the car door. “Face it. I challenge you.”
“And you think that’s smart on your part?”
She didn’t take the opportunity to point out that his question did little to dispute her accusation. “Absolutely brilliant,” she answered instead.
From inside the car, Marnie giggled and then cleared her throat.
He mirrored her posture and she fought the urge to follow Marnie’s lead. A stand-off between smart and well, smarter.
After several seconds, smart gave in. “This is my investigation, Dara. A police investigation that does not require your assistance.”
“I’m well aware, Detective.”
“Then I’ll assume I won’t find you questioning any more suspects.”
“Sara and I simply talked shop.”
She didn’t have to work hard to interpret his perfectly obvious yeah, right expression but little did he know she actually spoke the truth – by omission. She shifted her weight from one hip to the other, ready to issue yet another challenge, when she intercepted a spark in those magnificent eyes that warned her not to play her whole hand.
“We haven’t made an arrest.” He unfolded his arms, reached for the door handle, and opened the door. “Until we do, it might be a good idea for you to lie low.”
“Scare tactics won’t work with me.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice her shaky hands as she grasped the steering wheel while she climbed into the car. Of course he’d remind her a killer was still loose.
“Simple truth. The investigation is fresh. No clear-cut suspect or motive, only a victim and a weapon.” He moved his gaze to Marnie as he closed the door. “Both of you could be in severe danger.”
“Point taken, Detective.” She rolled up her window and turned the key to start the car’s engine before he witnessed Marnie’s inevitable breakdown. Luckily, her friend held it together.
With a nod of his head, he signaled for his partner and pointed to Sara’s front door. He gave her one more hard stare and then turned away.
“Maybe he’s right, Dara,” Marnie said. “We don’t really know why someone left you a corpse.”
“Exactly why we’re not giving up.” She moved the indicator to turn left, determined not to let him sway her decision to participate. “Despite Detective Turner’s warning.”
***
Not more than an hour later, Mace entered Hannigan’s with Jackson, fully expecting to find a familiar female presence in the middle of his investigation. Surprise, surprise. Mace paused just inside the door, his gaze zeroed in on the two women tucked into a corner booth, one of them extremely cozy with the bleach-blonde male who sat next to her – the same man who draped his arm across the back of the booth behind her with his fingers inches from her shoulder. Any minute now, he expected him to jump up and deliver a perfect What’s up, dude?
Jackson cleared his throat beside him. “Coincidence?”
“Like hell.”
“Hannigan?”
“Most likely.”
“Ladies have skills.”
“Hardly, just luck.”
“Think they came to get their stories straight?”
Mace pried his gaze from the female whose soft voice caused his libido to dance and pointed at the ceiling. “Most likely not. There are cameras all over this place that can prove or disprove their alibi in a matter of minutes.”
“Want me to take Hannigan so you can attempt to corral them?”
He frowned. “Attempt?”
“I make that statement based on past experience.”
“No, I’ll question Hannigan. You keep the girls company.”
Jackson gave him a lopsided grin. “Have it your way, partner.”
He was careful to keep his temper in check as he and Jackson approached the booth. As much as he contemplated yanking Hannigan from the booth by the scruff of his neck, assault would tarnish his badge. That particular thought almost stopped him in his tracks. Personal feelings aside, until he ruled her out completely Dara was still somewhat of a suspect and he had absolutely no business expressing his interest in her. But damn, the lady had a multitude of sass and that attribute alone made him hard – crazy hard.
Her earlier statement about challenge was every bit the truth – the banter they shared kept him stimulated to the point of electrified. And, the amount of intelligence she possessed in her little finger damn near outweighed the knowledge of even the most seasoned detective. Yeah, Dara Hamilton might be tiny, but she packed a punch ten times as loud and blinding as a bundle of dynamite.
Jackson cleared his throat beside him. “Ladies, mind if I join you?”
Dara batted those long, black eyelashes and he grasped the back of the booth to remain upright.
“Sure,” she answered. “What about you, Detective Turner?”
“No, thank you.” He directed a hard stare at the only male occupant in the booth. “Mr. Hannigan, I’d like to ask you some questions.”
He led the way to a lone table in one corner of the bar and waited for Hannigan to take a chair before sitting opposite him.
“Detective Mace Turner.” He extended a hand, careful not to give in to the temptation to break Hannigan’s fingers while they shook an introduction. “I’m investigating the murder of Evelyn Wallace. I’d like to know what you know.”
“Not much – only what I’ve read in the paper or heard on the news.”
“How many employees are on your payroll?”
“I have three waiters, six waitresses, four cooks, and one bartender other than myself.”
“That’s quite a staff. How’s your turnover?”
“Not bad. Most of my employees have been with me over a year.”
“How are they paid?”
“Hourly, plus tips. Any tips they earn are theirs alone.”
“Any big tippers lately?”
“Not to my knowledge. My business operates mostly on repeat customers. We work hard to keep them coming back.”
“How often are you here?”
“Every day except Wednesday.”
“Do you tend bar when you’re here?”
“I work several shifts to relieve the staff, but I also work the floor to assure customer satisfaction.”
“How well do you know Dara?”
“She and her friends have been regulars for about three years.”
“Do you consider her a friend?”
“Yes.”
“A close friend?”
“Yes.”
He paused half a second to make sure his professional composure remained intact before he asked the next question.
“How close?”
“Close enough to know she didn’t have anything to do with murder.”
“She claims she was here last Thursday at the time of the murder.”
“I can vouch for her and everyone else with her, for that matter.”
“Do you have any proof other than your word?”
“There are six video cameras in this room and one of them just happens to hang over the booth the girls normally use.”
“Would you be willing to turn the tapes over as evidence?”
“Gladly.”
Mace slid his notebook back inside his shirt pocket and purposely grasped the pen in his fist, one finger on the clicker. “Thank you, Mr. Hannigan, I’ll be in touch about the tapes.”
“Sure.” The other man shrugged as he turned his head and gave Dara an I-wanna-get-you-naked grin across the room. “Dara’s a good friend. Anything I can do to help.”
He didn’t miss the grin Dara shot back at Hannigan. Friendly, my ass.
Mace stood and walked the heated distance back to the booth while his thumb worked the end of his pen. Green polka dots colored his vision, not because of the heated exchange between Chad and Dara – no, the man deserved a medal for causing the rosy blush on her cheeks – Mace just wished he’d been the one to cause the reaction.
He waited a full three seconds, making perfectly sure the other man was out of earshot before he turned his gaze back to Dara. He swallowed hard at the mischievous grin she now wore on those full pouty lips. Lips colored with a slight baby pink tint that reminded him of cotton candy. Lips that he would bet his badge tasted just as soft and sweet.
“Stop,” she said into the silence, “you’re making me nervous.”
Mace blinked several times to clear his vision, while he mentally kicked himself in the ass for getting caught in lustful appreciation.
“Sorry,” he mumbled while he gave the pen another snap.
She placed her hand over his and electricity shot straight to his groin. His cock gasped, then stretched.
“The pen.” She raised both eyebrows as if she silently demanded to know what the hell caused his apology.
Before he could stop himself, he moved his thumb from beneath her touch and when he began a gentle glide across the soft smooth skin of her knuckles, her mesmerizing green eyes widened and he expected her to yank free of his grasp and deck him in the jaw. Instead, she leveled her gaze; the unspoken challenge in the depths made him flatten his palm and weave their fingers. Her tongue left her mouth to sweep her bottom lip. His cock screamed. His blood boiled. And he only touched her.
“If you two keep this up much longer, I’m gonna need a cigarette.”
Mace moved his gaze to Marnie who, in all honesty, he forgot sat next to Dara. He opened his mouth to offer an explanation but then closed it. How the hell could he possibly explain when he wanted her to get lost so he could spread Dara across the table and devour her like a five course meal?
“C’mon, Detective Stewart.” Marnie pointed to the bar where Chad stood, polishing drinking glasses. “I’ll buy you a soda.”
Jackson glanced at him and a silent, perfect don’t-fuck-this-up threat passed between them.
Mace nodded and waited until Marnie and Jackson left the booth to turn his attention back to Dara. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you that Chad and I are friends. Marnie and I just stopped in to chat.”
“To chat.”
“Yes.”
“About what?”
She shrugged. “Nothing really.”
“Nothing really.”
She frowned. “Is there an echo in here?”
He tightened his grip on her fingers. “What did you and Chad discuss, Dara?”
“Why are you so interested, Detective Turner?”
“It’s my job to ask questions.”
“Well, if you must know.” She leaned close and he inhaled the scent of her perfume – a mixture of something so soft and alluring it squeezed his cock almost in two. “We discussed a date.”
He clenched his teeth so hard he knew they’d crack. His head threatened to spin on his shoulders and he was very thankful he couldn’t reach the gun in his body holster at the moment. And then her mischievous grin returned.
He exhaled a loud breath. “The truth, Dara.”
“That is the truth.”
“You’re seeing Chad?”
“Your skills need work.” She rolled her eyes. “No, Chad and I discussed the security tapes. He and Marnie are going out next week.”
He didn’t know whether to be relieved or severely pissed off. The little wench knew exactly what she was doing. “Leave the security tapes to me.”
“We need to get something straight, Detective. I’m not the delicate flower you think I am. In fact, I’m a whole lot stronger than you think.”
He fought the urge to grin but knew that would be a fatal mistake. If he gave her even the slightest indication her fire went straight to his groin, she’d turn her anger on him and burn him from head to toe. “Never a doubt in my mind.”
“Then why do you insist on solving this crime alone?!”
His cock jumped. Damn, her independence made his hard. “I’m a detective.”
“Really,” she drawled. “Then explain why I have more viable evidence than you.”
“You don’t.”
“So you think. It just so happens I have a whole arsenal full of information and if you’d agree to be halfway cooperative, we might strike a deal.”
“No deal.”
“You aren’t in the least bit curious?”
“Not in the least.”
“Well that’s just too bad. Your loss.”
“I won’t be the loser Dara, because if I catch you anywhere near evidence in my case, I’ll lock you up.”
“Promise?”
“Guaranteed. And I won’t release you.”
Flames danced in the depths of her eyes. “I’ll sic Alex on you.”
Although he knew the truth behind her words and the reality somewhat – damn – scared him, he wouldn’t give her the luxury of having that information. “Even Alex won’t be able to spring you.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you?”
Aw, hell. “Okay, no,” he spat. “But again, I’m asking you to leave the investigation to me.”
“I told you, I’m not investigating. I’m simply trying to determine who left a corpse in my living room.�
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“It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.” Her eyes darkened with her persistence. “I have no intention of confronting a madman or hunting him down. As soon as I figure out who’s responsible, I’ll call the authorities.”
“You mean, you’ll call me.”
“If you’re available, yes. I frankly don’t care who apprehends him as long as he’s caught.”
“I’m always available. You’ll call me.”
“You know, you are very stubborn, Detective Turner.”
He gave her what he knew to be his best ladykiller smile. “Takes one to know one.” He stood from the booth, confident he’d made his point. And then she kicked confidence in the ass when she turned and grinned.
“Just remember, Detective, I write that smile for a living.”
***
After he spent most of the afternoon searching the Internet and reading page after page of book reviews that he categorized as scathing, Mace had identified scads of potential suspects. Putting the weapon in the killer’s hands however, proved almost impossible. He and Jackson had been locked in his office for hours and the walls felt as if they were closing in.
He wiped a hand across his forehead. “Neither of those women murdered the victim.”
“Agreed.”
“What convinced you, Stewart, their alibi or their attorney?”
His partner snickered. “I’ve dealt with Alex Jennings before. She’s good – real good. In fact, I’d be very confident before I accused one of her clients of anything. Believe me, she’d bust your balls with one beat of an eyelash.”
He bit back a grin. A beautiful ball-buster – just what Jackson ordered. Then again, all five women were attractive and extremely confident. Something about that combination challenged most men. Including himself.
“I think we’ve ruled out anyone associated with DRAMA. The security camera at Hannigan’s places every single one of them there during the time Lancaster pegged the death.”
“So that clears our most obvious suspect.”
“Yes, I guess it does.”
“But we still don’t have a viable one.”
“The victim had a lot of enemies.”