Courting Suspicion

by Kimberly Dean

‘There is no prostitution charge,’ Josh bit out, his control slipping.

  ‘Accusation, then. With all the high-profile actors involved, I think we need to go over this thing with a fine-toothed comb.’

  Josh said nothing. He refused to look, but he could feel the golden boy over in the corner practically crowing. The puffed-up hen was a strutting rooster now.

  ‘You’ve done a good job on this, Morgan, but I’m going to have to pull you off the remaining work.’

  Josh’s arms unfurled and he took a step forward. ‘You’re what?’

  ‘I’m removing you from the case. Higgins will be taking over the investigation.’

  ‘Like hell he will.’

  The captain’s weary eyes hardened. He was a stickler for the chain of command.

  Until some whiner stepped into his office, leapfrogging all over it.

  ‘You heard me, Detective. Higgins will be looking into the allegations against the senator and his companion.’

  Genieve.

  Who would lead to Luxxor Limited.

  And Nina.

  Josh felt a freight train rolling inside his chest. His lungs were working like a steam engine, and there was a roaring in his brain. ‘Yes, sir.’

  He turned slowly towards Higgins.

  The puffed-up cock paled and took a tiny step back.

  ‘I’ll put the case file on your desk.’

  The smug little bastard took two steps forward. ‘Thanks, that will be helpful when I call your girlfriend in for questioning.’

  Josh’s eyes narrowed. His fingers curled into fists, but he let out a sharp laugh. ‘Yeah? Good luck with that.’

  Without a word, he turned for the door. The silence behind him was palpable, but he wasn’t going to give either of the people in that room something to use against him. He walked out and just kept walking.

  ‘Everything OK there, Josh?’ Alvarez asked.

  ‘No,’ he said tightly. He grabbed his jacket from off his chair and swung it over his shoulder.

  Everything had just gone to hell in a handbasket.

  * * *

  Nina’s phone rang just as she was accepting a vase of flowers the doorman had delivered to her penthouse. The smart-looking man in the red blazer held the vase as she answered the phone, and she swept a tip out of the bowl she kept on the table by the door. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Nina, you’re not going to like this, but please stay calm.’

  The smile on her face froze as she thanked the doorman. The caller was Mr Phipps, her lawyer. She’d recognise his distinctively nasal voice anywhere. It was distracting, but the man was good enough at his job for her to overlook it.

  ‘What’s happened?’ she asked.

  ‘You’re being called down to police headquarters for questioning.’

  ‘I’m what?’ She put the vase down on her coffee table so quickly it teetered. She rescued it with a steadying hand that wasn’t quite so steady.

  ‘I just got off the line with the detective in charge of the Gunderson investigation. Rielle routed him to me. He has some questions he wants to ask you.’

  ‘But I’ve already talked to him.’ And it had been days ago. Josh hadn’t been around to Luxxor. He hadn’t called. She hadn’t even seen him on television when the local station had revisited its report. All they’d had was a story about the challenger for the senator’s seat complaining about not getting equal airtime.

  She’d thought the scandal was close to dying.

  ‘Well, apparently he has more inquiries. He sounded quite … strident. He wants you there in two hours.’

  ‘He does, does he?’ Nina took measured breaths, remembering the discussion she’d already had with the detective in Luxxor’s breakroom.

  The man just never let up.

  It was becoming irritating.

  She glanced at the card that had come with the flowers. My apologies, SG. Samuel Gunderson. She levelled a glare at the red roses, and she swore she saw them wilt. The bastard hadn’t even written his own card. The writing was distinctly feminine, probably from that staff member with the stiff upper lip and too tight bun.

  ‘This is becoming serious, Nina.’

  ‘I’m aware.’

  ‘I know you don’t want to go down to the station. It’s too visible, but I couldn’t get him to change the venue.’

  She crumpled the card and dropped it on the table. Anger was something she’d learned to deal with a long time ago. She’d learned how to tamp down the curdling, burning knot deep in her belly so that nobody could see, but she could use it. She hadn’t expected this out of Morgan. It added another log to the fire, but the betrayal and disappointment felt fresh.

  ‘Just let me do the talking,’ Phipps said.

  A flare jumped out of the fire she was trying to contain. ‘I can talk for myself.’

  ‘I know. Yes, you can,’ the lawyer said, his tone conciliatory. ‘We just need to keep our discussion with the police to a minimum.’

  ‘They have nothing.’ Nina wrapped an arm around her waist and looked out the window of the penthouse. She’d taken a rare day off and was still in her dressing robe. She’d had another long, hot, restless night.

  ‘And we’ll give them nothing,’ Phipps promised. ‘We can’t let this balloon any more than it has.’

  She’d thought they’d already contained it – with everybody but Morgan. Lost in thought, she twirled the end of the belt of her robe around her finger. What did he have now? Had he dug up something she’d missed?

  Why was he doing this to her?

  The hurt became sharper.

  With a shake of her head, she straightened away from the window frame. ‘What do you need from me?’

  They had to get on top of this now, before they headed in there. She went up against Morgan all the time, but she’d always felt safe doing it. This was more serious. They’d be down at the station, in his territory.

  ‘What do you know about this man?’ Phipps asked. ‘Is there anything we can use against him?’

  ‘No,’ she said sharply. She didn’t want to exacerbate the situation, but more than that, Josh Morgan was a good cop. A sexy, frustrating, brain-twisting adversary, but a good cop.

  And she wasn’t exactly a lily-white good girl.

  ‘We’re not going after him. That will only cause more problems.’ She took a calming breath. ‘What other strategy would you recommend?’

  ‘Well, what do you think about –’

  Nina focused and began pacing. She nodded as she considered her lawyer’s advice and threw out a few ideas of her own. Out of necessity, the discussion was short. They didn’t have time to map out all the possibilities. The detective had done that on purpose. If they pushed back or asked for more time, it would only look as if they were trying to hide something.

  Which they were …

  ‘I’ll pick you up,’ Phipps promised.

  ‘I’ll be ready,’ she said.

  She hung up the phone and looked at the flowers from her problem client. Because of him, she was about to head into police headquarters.

  It wasn’t exactly the kind of place that made her comfortable.

  A hot shower helped Nina gather herself and, using tricks she’d learned from the masters of the trade, she applied makeup to hide her tiredness. She forced down a slice of toast and a glass of orange juice. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed the energy the calories would bring. She was just heading back to the bathroom to dry her hair when she heard the buzzer at her apartment door.

  She stopped to stare at it, her heart jumping inside her chest. It was too early for Phipps. He wasn’t scheduled to pick her up for another half-hour. Were the wolves at her door already?

  Or, more aptly, the wolf?

  She pulled the tie of her silk robe tighter around her waist and padded barefoot to the console. Whoever was down there wasn’t patient. The buzzer was already sounding again.

  She pushed the button for the telecom. ‘Hello?’

  ‘Nina, it’s R
ielle. Let me in.’

  Nina rested her head against the wall. She could use a friendly face right now. She pushed the buzzer and checked her look in the mirror by the door. Her blonde hair was darkened by its dampness. It made her look paler than she was, but the dark circles under her eyes were covered. She patted them to make sure. She needed to put on a strong front – and maybe talk. A little.

  It didn’t take long before she heard the bell for the elevator and then the doors opening in the hallway. Her apartment was the only one on the penthouse floor. She didn’t have any neighbours, but she still checked to see that the visitor was the one she was expecting.

  It wasn’t. There were visitors. Rielle had brought Darien with her.

  Nina braced her hand on the door and hung her head. When the knock sounded, she stood up straight and schooled her features.

  She opened the door to greet them.

  ‘Oh, Nina.’ Rielle rushed in before she could get out a word.

  Nina felt herself wrapped up in a warm hug. She’d fortified herself and was prepared for a day’s worth of battle, but the friendly concern got to her for a moment. She hugged her friend back, but pulled away when she heard the door close. And lock.

  She tucked her damp hair behind her ear. ‘Darien.’

  She should have known he wouldn’t let Rielle come alone. Not today. She couldn’t blame the guy for being protective. The couple had been through a lot, and she didn’t want to add to the burden.

  ‘Thank you for coming, but I can’t talk for long. I need to go down to the police station to make a statement.’

  ‘We know,’ Rielle said.

  ‘I’m your ride.’ Darien crossed his arms over his muscled chest, a sure sign he wouldn’t brook any arguments.

  She tried anyway.

  ‘You’re still recovering from surgery. You can’t push me through a throng of reporters.’

  She doubted there’d be a throng, but she imagined crime beat reporters were likely to hang around down there. She didn’t want anyone from the press seeing her within a hundred feet of that place. No pictures, no questions. That’s how she wanted things to remain.

  Darien’s biceps bulged. ‘Hell, Nina. We’re not going to pretend like we’re in the WWE. I’m supposed to get you in there unnoticed.’

  ‘Oh.’ Her shoulders relaxed. She rather liked the sound of that. ‘Phipps must have called you.’

  ‘No, Josh did.’

  Her gaze jumped up.

  ‘Come on.’ Rielle swung an arm around her shoulders. ‘I’ll help you get dressed.’

  ‘You’ll need something nondescript,’ Darien said. ‘Although Morgan said something about tie-dye and flip-flops?’

  Nina stopped in her tracks. Her glare was pure reflex. ‘Over my dead body.’

  Scott smiled. ‘He said that would wake you up.’

  Rielle sent her boyfriend a warning look. He was an intimidating, dangerous weapon, but he was putty in her hands. ‘Maybe you should sit down while you wait for us.’

  His amused expression darkened. ‘I’m not an invalid.’

  ‘I know, I just don’t want you to push it.’

  He sent her a look that said he’d push whatever needed pushing. Rielle let out an exasperated sigh. ‘I smell toast. Could you make me a piece? With honey?’

  His expression softened, and he brushed his fingers over her cheek. ‘You’re nervous if you’re wanting sweets.’

  She shrugged.

  ‘I’m on it.’

  Nina watched as he headed for her professional chef’s kitchen and reflexively lifted her hand. He looked ready to move mountains, whether he knew his way around a kitchen or not.

  She let her hand drop.

  It was just toast – and it was a sweet thing to do.

  She was glad Rielle had someone in her life now to support her this way. Nina suddenly felt very tired. She’d had to carry the weight on her own for so long.

  ‘All right.’ Rielle rubbed her arm. ‘Time to make you nondescript and drop-dead gorgeous at the same time.’

  Nina’s chin lifted stubbornly. ‘I’m wearing heels.’

  ‘Of course you are.’ Rielle pushed open the door to the master bedroom. If she saw that the bed hadn’t been slept in, she didn’t comment. ‘What did the detective mean about the flip-flops and tie-dye?’

  Nina felt that spark flare inside her chest. ‘Never mind.’

  Her assistant opened the door to the walk-in closet. ‘How are you doing?’

  ‘I’m fine. Have you talked with Genieve?’

  ‘Yes, she’s still lying low. I told her we’d step in if she needs us, but she said she’s OK. For now.’ Rielle rejected the red suit Nina had in her hands and chose a white sleeveless dress instead. ‘Softer. Less antagonistic.’

  ‘I’m not the one who’s antagonistic,’ Nina said.

  ‘Oh, come on. Josh is trying. He called us.’

  Since when was everyone calling him Josh? ‘He summoned me.’

  Rielle’s long hair swished as she turned. ‘What?’

  ‘Phipps said the detective in charge had called and given us two hours to get to the station.’

  Her friend’s eyes widened. ‘You haven’t heard.’

  ‘Heard what?’

  Rielle caught her by the shoulder. ‘Josh was taken off the case. Some other detective is working it now.’

  Nina’s lips parted in surprise. ‘Someone else?’

  She should have been relieved, but the information was like a punch in the chest. At once, it felt wrong, frightening, shocking and just … wrong.

  She rose to full height, no high heels required. ‘What happened?’

  Had he requested to be replaced?

  ‘I don’t know, but he didn’t sound too happy about it.’

  Well, neither was she.

  Nina felt the fire in her belly bubble up dangerously. Why had Josh been taken off the case? She knew somebody was messing with her, but now they’d turned on him?

  She snatched the dress out of Rielle’s hands and marched to the bathroom. Enough with moping around. She was done running scared and being careful. She was not someone who got summoned by a detective new to a case. A case that wasn’t even about her company. She was through playing games.

  It was time the Metro Police Department met Nina Lockwood.

  * * *

  Darien Scott was devious enough to impress even Nina. He got her into the Metro precinct headquarters without one lightbulb flashing or one reporter looking at her sideways. Even though she’d worn the stilettos he’d tried to reject …

  They were white with gold heels to match the bangle on her wrist and the necklace around her throat. She was dressed in full battle armour.

  Mr Phipps helped her remove her full-length raincoat as her friends slipped away into the shadows again to wait for her.

  ‘Follow my lead,’ her lawyer instructed. ‘Let me answer first.’

  Nina lifted an eyebrow as she removed the scarf from her hair. She wasn’t an imbecile who’d run off at the mouth. The man worked for her.

  His head dipped.

  ‘This way,’ he said, gesturing to the front desk.

  She shook out her hair and felt more than one interested glance turn her way. She used the energy, consuming it, even though the fire in her belly was still burning brightly. White-hot, to be accurate.

  Once she gave her name, she was escorted down the hallway to a conference room. She refused to be hurried as her heels clipped off each step against the linoleum flooring. She settled into a hard wooden chair and looked at her sterile surroundings. She supposed they called them interrogation rooms here. She crossed her legs and flicked an imaginary speck off her dress.

  The walls had windows with blinds that were open, and she hadn’t missed the two-way mirror on the wall. She doubted any crime-show fan didn’t know what that was. She was aware that her every move was being watched and, most likely, recorded. She had to play this right. She needed to appear concerned and off
ended, but powerful. That shouldn’t be too difficult. She was all three, but she didn’t want to play the power card yet.

  Her gaze lifted when the door to the room swung open again.

  And she felt an immediate dislike for the fresh-faced, spiky-haired smartass who walked into the room. It was the new detective, no doubt about it. He was followed by a uniformed female officer, whom he waved into the corner. Nina’s tongue clicked at the dismissive move. The young buck didn’t have to open his mouth for her to peg him. She’d met his kind before, and she was unimpressed.

  He dropped a manila folder onto the table, letting it smack loudly. She sighed. Was that supposed to be intimidating? He needed to study Morgan’s steely stare. That was intimidating.

  Or it had been …

  ‘I’m Detective Higgins, DC Metro Police.’

  The man unbuttoned his brown jacket and took the seat across from her. Purposely, he let his shoulder holster show. Nina let an eyebrow lift when he didn’t extend his hand.

  She held out hers. ‘Nina Lockwood.’

  He seemed taken aback, but he shook her hand. ‘Nina.’

  ‘You can call me Ms Lockwood.’

  His lips pursed as if he found that amusing. ‘Thank you for coming down.’

  ‘Of course,’ she said, ‘but it is inconvenient. I hope we can make this short. It’s the middle of a workday.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. We’ll get to your “work” soon enough.’

  The air quotes he made didn’t ingratiate him to her. Nina smoothed her hands along the arms of the wooden chair and wrapped her fingers around the ends. ‘My lawyer indicated that you had questions.’

  ‘Yes, about the Gunderson break-in at the Emissary Hotel.’ The detective flipped open the folder and tapped the first page inside it ominously. ‘I understand that Ms Hart, the victim of that crime, is one of your employees.’

  ‘Yes, she is. I already told Detective Morgan that.’

  ‘Well, now you’re telling me.’

  The tone raked across Nina’s nerve endings. Refusing to let him see, she tilted her head to the side. Her straight blonde hair slid across her shoulder. ‘Where is the detective?’

  Higgins watched her hair for a moment, but then snapped back to attention. ‘Reassigned. For good reason,’ he murmured.

  Red splotches appeared on his cheekbones. Just a hint, but the colour was there.