Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Then, right in front of Lucinda, who gave them the list but didn’t need to know the results of them working it, he continued sharing those results. “Three possibilities. One married. Two single. One of the singles was an ex-boyfriend we can’t locate, not Jace. The other two were Bon Amie.”
“The married one doesn’t have an alibi?” Lucinda asked his question.
“She’s out of town. Gets back tomorrow.”
Lucinda lifted her fingers in front of her and clicked the tips of her nails on one hand against the tops of the nails on the other, a small smile flirting with her full lips. She looked like the magnificently beautiful Disney villainess, the one you silently rooted for, who just sent the cloying, innocent heroine spiraling down the white-water rapids at the bottom of her palace.
“The coven is going to eat this up with a spoon.”
Her glee was unhidden.
But fuck.
Rus forgot about the coven.
“First, I’ll make it clear that talking about an investigation in front of a civilian is not my favorite thing,” Rus began.
Moran showed zero guilt at this.
“Second,” he turned to Lucinda. “Do I need to point out this could be rough on your business?”
“Agent, please,” she drawled. “I could tell every wife and girlfriend her man comes to watch our show, flirts with the girls, and takes that further if given the opportunity, and men will still come to our show. They can’t help themselves. You must know that a great many of your number think with a certain part of their anatomy.”
He did know this.
He was one of that number when he was around Lucinda.
He decided to pay attention to what he should be paying attention to.
“We can’t worry about the coven now. If we have any hope of him opening up to us, we need to get to the married guy before his wife gets home. When she’s home, he’s lost to us, and we have nothing. Between the glut of fingerprints they’ll be sifting through from that motel room, and the excess of DNA, no witnesses, no motive, we need a man who will talk. And he’ll know nothing about anything that has a thing to do with Brittanie the minute his wife comes home.”
Moran stood. “Then we better go.”
Rus stood too and looked down at Lucinda. “I’ll be back tonight.”
She held his gaze two beats too long, and damn, but he was willing to stand there if she held it a thousand beats more.
Then she purred, “I can’t wait.”
Christ, now she was openly flirting.
Before they left, Moran said some words of thanks that included ones that were more heartfelt around the reuben.
They were in the cruiser on their way back to town when Moran said, “You two are cute.”
Jesus.
Suddenly, he was annoyed he’d been saddled with a good cop, meaning an observant one.
“Fuck off,” he grunted.
Moran chuckled.
Rus sighed.
TEN
Twice-Baked Potato
When he returned to Bon Amie that night, he was vaguely surprised at how full the car park was.
And he was definitely surprised when the female security employee saw his car, came out to stand under the overhang and waved him that way.
He drove in.
A valet, also female, jogged from behind her stand to Rus’s door.
He did the getting out, handing over the keys business, then walked to the double doors.
Security Sue was there with legs planted and arms crossed on her chest.
Oh yeah, and she was also wearing a smirk.
“She wants you,” she announced.
Rus made no attempt to hide his beleaguered sigh.
This only made her smirk get bigger, but she dropped her arms, turned and walked him into the club.
Things were hopping upstairs, and it wasn’t just men, or even predominantly so. Women were there too, on dates or nights out with their partner, or in groups for a girls’ night.
This reminded Rus it was Friday.
Security Sue didn’t lead him to the stairs.
She led him to a table in an intimate corner, the one that had to have the best view.
It was four-top size, two chairs set catty-corner, the top set for one, and that place setting was not in front of Lucinda, who was seated in a chair. In front of her was some clear liquid in a martini glass with a perfect twirl of a lemon rind swimming in it.
Security Sue slinked away after she accomplished her mission and Rus asked, “Are you feeding me again?”
“Yes,” Lucinda replied.
Earlier, he’d tried to block out today’s dress, mostly because the skirt was as tight as yesterday’s, even though the upper part wasn’t. But he’d seen the back, and there was a triangle cut out that exposed her from between her shoulder blades to her waist, and also shared she wasn’t wearing a bra. It was in what he was realizing was her signature color scheme, a cream that had the barest hint of pink.
It played havoc on his ability to concentrate then.