here, please. I’ll see if she’s available.” The guard walked back to his post and picked up a phone.
“She won’t see us, Detective,” Hannah said. “Marcia Foley is the living, breathing definition of control freak. She has to be in charge, and she won’t want to meet with you unless she can plan it well in advance.”
He turned to look at her fully. “That’s quite a character analysis,” he said drily.
Hannah shrugged. “I worked with the woman for five years. You learn a lot about a person in that time.”
“True enough,” he murmured. He was quiet for a beat, then shrugged, as if he was shaking himself free of memories. “I appreciate the heads-up. And since we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future, why don’t you just call me Owen and I’ll call you Hannah.” He flashed another one of those heart-stopping grins, and she found herself nodding dumbly in response.
Get it together, she chided herself. One smile, and you turn into a bobblehead doll!
The security guard walked over and leaned down to address them. “I’m sorry, but Ms. Foley is gone for the day. You’ll have to make an appointment and come back another time.”
Owen turned and shot her a questioning look. Does she leave early?
Hannah shook her head.
Owen turned back to the guard. “That’s fine,” he said. He leaned over and pulled out a small notepad and pen from the center console. “In the meantime, I’m going to need your name and address.”
The guard frowned at him. “Why?”
Owen didn’t bother to look up, but instead kept his gaze on the small book as he flipped through to find a clean page. “I’m going to issue you a citation for interfering in my investigation.”
“But...” the guard sputtered. “You can’t be serious!”
Owen did look up then, his pen poised above the page. “Try me.”
“But I haven’t done anything!”
“You’re preventing me from doing my job, and I have a real problem with that.” Owen cocked his head to the side, studying the man. “Tell me something. Is protecting her worth your job? Because I don’t think the company will look too kindly on this infraction. The State of Texas and the City of Houston tend to come down pretty hard on people who interfere in a murder investigation.”
The guard went pale under his tan. “Murder?” he whispered.
“That’s what I said. Now, your name?”
The man took a step back. “Uh, listen. I was just trying to do my job, you understand? I call, they tell me who can come in.”
“Sure.”
“But since you’re a cop and all, I should probably follow your instructions.”
The corner of Owen’s mouth twitched, but he kept his smile hidden. “That seems like a good idea to me.”
Hannah watched this exchange with a growing sense of amusement and admiration. Owen could have gotten bent out of shape and angry at the guard’s initial refusal to let them pass, but instead of trying to bully the man into cooperating, he’d used calm reason and a touch of intimidation. It was a potent combination, as evidenced by the guard’s babbled apology-cum-explanation as he lifted the gate and waved them through.
Hannah waited until they’d cleared the checkpoint before turning to look at Owen. “Were you really going to arrest him?”
“No,” he replied, pulling smoothly into a parking space. “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Then he winked at her, triggering an electric wave of awareness through her system.
Hannah shook her head as she climbed out of the car. Not only did the detective have a sexy grin, but he winked at people, too? It just wasn’t fair.
The more she saw of his personality, the more she felt drawn to him. It was going to be hard for her to keep her attraction to him under wraps until his case was closed.
But it was for the best.
* * *
It was obvious she didn’t want to be here. With her arms wrapped tightly around her waist and the thin lines of strain fanning from the corners of her mouth, she looked absolutely miserable. It was clear that no matter what she’d told him about amicable partings, Hannah was haunted by something at ChemCure Industries.
But what? And did it possibly tie in to his investigation?
If she’d discovered something amiss, it was entirely possible the company had acted quickly to silence her. They may have offered her money to buy her off, tried to legally tie her hands so she couldn’t report her suspicions to the authorities.
He glanced at her while they walked down the hall. No, he thought, dismissing that notion. Whatever else she may be, Hannah Baker was not the type of person to stand by when a wrong was being done. She hadn’t hesitated to jump in and offer assistance when she discovered the topic of his investigation. That wasn’t the action of a woman who was legally bound to remain silent. Besides, if the company was doing something wrong, they couldn’t force her to keep quiet. No court would uphold a company-issued gag order where illegal or immoral activities were concerned.
Why, then, did she look as if she’d seen a ghost?
She slowed, and he adjusted his pace accordingly. “Do you mind if I just duck in here?” She pointed to the restroom door. “It took a little longer than I thought to get here.”
“No problem,” he replied. “Take your time.”
She emerged a few minutes later, a bit more color on her cheeks. She’d applied lipstick, too, he noticed. Her mouth had a faint pink sheen to it, as though she’d just eaten ripe berries. A wave of lust slammed into him and he rocked forward, wanting to find out if her lips tasted as good as they looked.
Her eyes widened when she met his gaze, but there was no fear in her expression. Encouraged, he leaned closer, gratified to hear the soft hiss of her indrawn breath. She feels it, too.
This close, he could see her pulse beating, faster and faster under the delicate skin of her neck. He licked his lips, wanting to put the tip of his tongue just there, to feel the thrum of her excitement as he tasted the salty tang of her skin. His own heart rate kicked up a notch in response, and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to rein in his body’s automatic response to being close to such a beautiful woman.
Not here.
Owen jerked back, shaking his head to clear the fog of arousal that had threatened to obscure his better judgment. Hannah watched him, her hazel eyes a swirl of blue and green and yellow. He could get lost in those eyes, if he let himself.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. The short strands tickled his palm, chasing away the last of his lust and redirecting his focus to the job.
She offered him a shy smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
