Jenny hugged me. "Cat will find out who really killed that bastard, and then she'll be free forever."
Scarface watched me, an amused gleam in his eye.
"Come on, let's go tell the crew," Corey said, taking Jenny's hand affectionately.
Jenny arched her brows at me. "You coming, Cat?"
"No," Scarface answered. "She's busy."
The Play Group members left, and Scarface led me into his Captain's office and shut the door. "Got yourself a nice meaty case there," he said, sitting on the edge of the desk. "Does Will know?"
"Of course."
"Shall we make a wager?" he asked.
"On what?"
"On who'll find Frank's killer first. You or me."
"So you don't think it was Angel?"
"I didn't say that."
I narrowed my gaze at him. "Is this a trick? Do you already know she did it and you're just trying to get me to take a losing bet? Releasing her is a bit risky just to win, isn't it?"
His lips twitched. "I like taking risks, but that's not why I released her. Let's see, what'll the stakes be. How about, if I win, you go on a date with me. If you win, I go on a date with you."
"Nice try, Scarface. I can't date you, I'm with Will."
"This case could go on for a few more weeks."
Meaning he didn't think Will and I would still be together then. We were wandering down a path I didn't want to take, so I avoided the subject. "Why did you release Angel?"
"We have our reasons."
"So…you doubt she did it?"
"Look at her. She's like a fairy."
"She could be a killer fairy." He just lifted one shoulder. "This isn't like you, Scarface. I thought you looked past appearances and judged people based on the evidence. I didn't think you'd be taken in by a cute body and a pretty face."
He gave me that goddamn teasing smile again, the one that made me feel guilty for just being alone with him. His gaze traveled from my eyes to my mouth, then down my entire body, lingering on places that burned hot from his gaze alone. "I wouldn't call you cute, Kitten. Sexy maybe."
Damn it, I blushed. I couldn't help it. I may not want to take the flirting further with Scarface, but it sure felt good.
He chuckled. Bastard.
"So what do you know?" I asked, determined to get the conversation back on track before I lost my train of thought completely.
"All sorts of things."
"Come on, give me something to work with here."
"Want to win the bet, huh?"
"We don't have a bet!"
He grinned. "I can tell you what Angel herself has been told, but that's all. Her fingerprints are all over the room."
"She was staying in it! Of course they'd be there."
"There were only hers, Karvea's, and the staff’s."
"Maybe the killer wore gloves. Anything else?"
"There was no sign of forced entry and she had a key card. It wasn't reported missing."
"The staff also have access."
He gave a single nod. "It was well known that she hated her husband. They argued in public and she had several affairs."
"Several? You mean it wasn't just Corey?"
"Many others, going back four years to when they married."
"You found all this out since his death?"
That Cheshire Cat smile again. "You're not the only one with contacts in L.A."
I sat on the chair and digested what he'd told me. It wasn't looking good for Angel. She wasn't the angel her colleagues thought she was. On the other hand, it wasn't proof that she did it either. "Does Corey know about the others?"
He shrugged. "You should ask him."
"Do you really think she was with him the night of the murder?"
"It's possible. I don't believe your friend saw her leave, though."
Neither did I, but it felt traitorous to admit it. I was relieved that he was already suspicious of Jenny's statement, however. It meant I didn't have to air my own doubts. "So that's all you've got?" I asked. "No murder weapon?"
"We're still looking."
"It seems flimsy."
"She also benefits financially from his death," he said.
"Have you seen the will?"
"Karvea's lawyer emailed me a copy last night."
"Is she the only beneficiary?" I asked.
He didn't answer straight away, and I guessed he was debating how much he should say. It was probably against regulations to tell me as much as he already had, but Scarface wasn't the sort of man who followed the rules. "Angel gets the bulk of the estate, but the group's ownership reverts to his ex-wife."
"Really?" Interesting. I knew nothing about his ex-wife beyond what I had learned in my investigation so far. Inheriting the group in its entirety just gave her a motive for killing him. "What do you know about her?"
"Not much."
Which wasn't the same thing as 'nothing.' It didn't matter. Jenny and the others should be able to help me out. I felt good, lighter, and even my headache began to lessen. I now had another suspect. My new case had just gotten off the ground.
"What about the tox report?" I suddenly asked. "Was he drugged?"
"You've been watching too much CSI," he said. "These things take time. I'll let you know the results when I have them."
"Will you?"
He took a step closer and I felt myself being sucked in by his force field. He wasn't smiling, but his eye twinkled. "I wouldn't want the bet to be too easy for me. There's no fun in that."
"You think you're going to win? Cocky."
A slow, easy smile touched his lips. "So you agree we have a bet?"
Damn. "Sure. Why not. But I won't agree to a date."
"How about, if I win, I'll teach you some self-defense moves."
"I do kickboxing now."
He lifted a brow and I was gratified that he seemed impressed. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."
I laughed. Like I could ever beat him. "Okay, you show me some sneaky moves if you win." Will would love that—not. "And if I win?"
He shrugged and I got the feeling he hadn't thought it through. He didn't expect to lose. "You get to ask me anything."
"That doesn't sound like much."
"Then I'll leave the wager up to you. If you win, you decide what you do to me."
Gulp.
He glanced over my head as the door opened. I swung round to see Stankovic glaring at us, coffee in one hand, croissant in the other. A pastry flake hung from his stubbly chin. "You again," he said, barely glancing at me.
"The one and only. I was just leaving."
"Good." He opened the door wider, but he was so fat that I brushed his stomach as I passed. It wasn't even nine, but he already smelled of sweat.
"Maybe you should try something healthier for breakfast," I said.
He took a large bite of the croissant and chewed in my face.
"Hey, Cat," Scarface interrupted before I could say something I'd really regret. "We'll be in touch."
I left the building and sat in my car until my heart stopped beating like a drum. Why did I play with Scarface? He was bad for me, bad for my relationship with Will.
Will.
Hell. I needed to find out if he was still mad at me. I drove to High Street and bought four coffees at Trendz Cafe across from the office. It was past nine, but the traffic flowed. Gina met me at the entrance to her shop and accepted one of the cups. She looked like a sexy bee dressed in a yellow dress with thin black stripes and plunging neckline. There wasn't a hint of the previous night's excess in her clear, unlined face.
"You look good," I said. "I hate you."
"You don't look half bad yourself. Just ask Will."
I winced. "We had a fight. I think."
"Then why are you wasting time talking to me?" She watched me over the rim of her cup as she sipped.
I sighed. "I'm going, I'm going." I opened the door to the office and greeted Faith.
She had her hair up in a skinn
y ponytail and lipstick gave her some color. She looked up and tugged on the cuffs of her cardigan in that self-conscious way she had.
"Is Will in?" I asked.
She nodded. I handed her the coffee and she thanked me. "Cat?"
"Hmmm?" I said, looking up the corridor to Will's closed door. What should I say to him? Sorry? What was I sorry for?
"Your clothes are on your desk. Thanks for taking me to your kickboxing class last night."
"Oh, sure. Glad you liked it. You were really good."
She dipped her head, but not before I saw her smile. It was a nice smile, but twitchy, unsure. It lasted a nanosecond, then she focused on the computer screen again, shutting me out. That's okay. I wasn't up for interrogating her.
I headed up the corridor and knocked on Will's door.
CHAPTER 7
Will looked surprised to see me. "I thought you were Faith," he said, leaning back in his chair.
"Were you expecting her?"
"No, but you don't usually knock."
Barging into his office was my usual modus operandi, but it didn't feel right this time. I no longer knew where I stood with him.
I held out the coffee cup. "Peace offering."
He came round the side of the desk and stood in front of me, very close. He smelled of aftershave and soap, and that delicious base scent that was all Will.
He took the cup. His fingers brushed mine, sending tiny tingles radiating across my skin and down my spine. I felt as uncertain as I did the first time I realized I liked him.
"You didn't need to do that," he said. His voice was deep and melodic like the rumble of distant drums.
"In that case, I'll take the coffee back. I might need another this morning."
One side of his mouth lifted, but it didn't touch his eyes. He sipped as his gaze traveled down to my throat. I wondered if he could see a vein throbbing there. It sure as hell felt like my blood was pumping hard.
"Cat," he said at the same time I said, "Will."
He lowered his cup and lifted his gaze to meet mine, then quickly looked down again. We'd connected long enough for me to see something in his eyes, something that echoed within me. He was as unsure of what to say as I was.
"Will? Why were you mad at me when you thought I was out all night?"
He looked relieved that I'd brought it up first. "I wasn't mad."
"You sounded it."
"Then you don't know me very well."
The truth of that stung a little. We might be sleeping together, but there was still a lot about each other we didn't know. "Were you worried?"
"No." He frowned. "Should I have been? Is there something you're not telling me?"
"No! It's just that…you overreacted when you thought I wasn't home."
"I guess I can't tell when you're joking over the phone."
That wasn't the point. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong." He set down his cup and placed his hands on either side of my face. They were warm from the coffee, his touch gentle. "Let's just chalk it up to a misunderstanding on my part. Forgive me?" He blinked those beautiful puppy dog eyes.
I was a sucker for those eyes. I nodded and he drew me into a tender hug that had me sighing against the hard length of his body. It didn't matter what had upset him on the phone. All that mattered was that we were good again.
"Can I see you tonight?" he said, drawing back.
"Of course."
"I'll cook you something at my place."
I nodded and stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. His arms circled me again, and I felt safe and warm and absolutely sure that whatever had happened earlier no longer mattered.
It lasted until his phone rang and we separated. I went to my office and blew out a breath to calm my raging hormones. I tried to focus on Angel Karvea's case, but it wasn't easy. My body still hummed from Will's kiss, and as much as I told myself we were good, a niggling doubt remained.
I drained my coffee and lobbed the cup into the waste basket near the door. It missed. I dragged a notepad closer and made a list of potential suspects. It consisted of Frank's ex-wife and all four members of Play Group. Angel sat at the top like a Christmas tree ornament. I wanted to add to the list, focus on others outside the group, and that meant finding out how Frank treated the people in his life.
I already knew he was an asshole to his wife, but what about his ex-wife? Sometimes divorce wasn't enough. Maybe she'd wanted to make their separation more final.
Then there was the fraud. Jenny hadn't been the only star he'd plunged into financial difficulty through shady deals. If he'd chosen the wrong person to cheat, one capable of committing murder…
My phone rang. I fished it out of my bag and answered. "Hey, Mom."
"Long time, no see," she said. "Will keeping you busy?" By the teasing way she said it, I didn't think she was asking about work.
"Mom!"
Her tinkling laugh filtered down the line. "Just trying to connect with my daughter on a shared topic."
"I am not discussing sex with you."
"Why not? We're two adults in healthy relationships with lovely men. There's nothing wrong with a little girl talk. I'm sure you discuss the details with Gina."
"She's my best friend! And you're…" Crazy. "…my mother."
"Peter says there's no reason we can't transition our mother-daughter relationship into something more suitable to our ages. We're both mature adults now."
"Wait…Peter? The guy you're seeing? Why are you discussing us with him?"
"He's a therapist."
I groaned. Great. As if my mother hadn't become weird enough since Dad died, now she was dating a man who made a living off people like her. No wonder they were together. She had enough baggage to keep a therapist in business for years.
"I hope he's not charging you for that terrible advice," I said.
"Now that's not fair, Cat. He's a good man and a good therapist. Just because you don't agree with his advice doesn't mean it's not valid. It might mean you're the one with the problem."
I should have recoiled at her lecture, but I smiled instead. She was back to being Mom again, telling me what to do and think. I wasn't ready to become best friends with her, and her huffiness proved that she wasn't ready either. Our relationship was just the way I wanted it to be: mother and daughter. Not that I'd tell her that.
"Mom?"
"Yes?" she said snippily.
"Can I come over after work?"
"Sure." Her voice softened and she sounded like she was smiling. "Stay for dinner."
"I can't, Will's cooking for me."
"Ahhhh, that's nice. I suppose you'll be staying the night for some sexy time afterward."
"Mom! Look, I've gotta go. See you later." I hung up and grabbed my bag. Time to do some work, and that meant talking to Jen and her friends again.
I threw my coffee cup in the waste basket and opened the door. Out in the reception area, Will was leaning on Faith's desk. They spoke in low voices. Or rather, Will spoke while Faith looked up at him with big, round eyes like everything he said was pure gold and she didn't want to miss a word of it.
I cleared my throat and she quickly turned back to her computer, a blush rising to her cheeks. Will stepped away from the desk and came up to me. There was no sign of guilt on his face.
"We got interrupted before," he said.
My gaze slid to Faith, tapping away at the keyboard within hearing distance. "Not here," I whispered.
The look he gave me was all smug amusement without actually smiling. "I was going to ask you about the case, Cat."
"Ah. That. Yeah. Ask away."
"What's happening now that Frank's dead? Does Jenny still want you to look into the fraud?"
The old me would have lied through her ass, because she would have doubted Will would let her continue with the case now that murder was involved. The new me believed he trusted me to stay out of trouble.
Actually, that wasn't true. The new me knew
that Will wouldn't dare take me off the case if he wanted to continue to have regular sex.
"She wants to drop it for Angel's sake, but I'm going to see her about it now. I think following up on the fraud will, um, help me solve the murder." His eyes narrowed. "Jenny asked me to find out who really killed Frank," I added. "She doesn't think Angel did it. She's going to pay me, and since it's a high-profile murder case, I thought we could charge extra."
I felt a little guilty for adding the last part. Jenny was not only my friend, she was also having financial difficulties. Hopefully Angel would come to the party and pay the fee like Jenny promised.
Will didn't say anything for a while. The tap tap of the keyboard didn't so much fill the silence as make it feel thicker. I took a step closer so that we were almost touching. Heat radiated off him, enveloping me, keeping me rooted to the spot as tightly as a pair of arms. If he wore a tie, I would have pretended to straighten it, but since he didn't, I placed my palm on his chest. The strong beat of his heart vibrated all the way up my arm.
"Okay?" I asked softly.
"Okay." He looked a little dazed, and blinked as if surprised to hear his own voice.
I gave him a smile. He didn't smile back. His eyes darkened and he stepped away, as if remembering he was at work and I was his employee. My hand dropped to my side and I closed my fist because I could swear I still felt his heartbeat on my palm.
He dragged his fingers through his hair and I knew he was already regretting his 'okay.' I suddenly wanted to be childish and tell him it was too late to change his mind.
"Have you thought about who's going to pay you for your time if Angel is guilty?" he asked. "Or Jenny for that matter?"
"Angel can't be guilty. Not even Scarface thinks she's a threat."
"Forde?" That earned me a piercing glare. "Have you seen him? What's he got to do with this?"
"He's working homicide now. Frank Karvea's death is his case. I spoke to him about it this morning."
He looked like he wanted to explode, but to his credit, he just pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. And another.
It was my cue to leave, before he said anything he'd regret like 'You're off the case.'
"See you later," I said with a wave. Louder, I said, "Bye, Faith."
"Bye, Cat," she said back.
Eeny Meany Miny Die (Cat Sinclair Mysteries) Page 9