swallowed. Why was it that she so desperately wanted to believe him? What possible difference could it make to her whether this man was innocent or guilty?
“I don’t think there’s any reason for us to continue this conversation or for us to see or speak to each other again,” Annabelle told him. “So I’ll take this opportunity to thank you again for coming to my rescue with those reporters, but—”
“I want to find out who killed Lulu just as much as you do. Lulu and I weren’t family, but we were friends. Close friends.”
“The way you and Ms. Wells are friends?”
Annabelle groaned mentally. Why had she asked him such a personal question?
His lips twitched. “Yes, the way Kendall and I were once close friends.”
There, I guess that answers your question, doesn’t it? He and his lawyer are more than friends. And he didn’t mind telling you.
“Finding another suspect would certainly be to your advantage, wouldn’t it?” She wanted to get away from this man as quickly as possible. He had the strangest effect on her and she didn’t like it. I believe it’s called charm, she told herself. No doubt this man has been charming women all his life. She shouldn’t flatter herself by believing she was different from countless others he had charmed or that she was in any way important to him. Except…? Except as Lulu’s cousin and the official representative for the Vanderley family, it would work to his advantage if she liked him, if he could persuade her to trust him.
This man could be Lulu’s killer. Never forget that fact.
“Whatever my motives are, you and I want the same thing,” he told her, his dark eyes roaming over her with disturbing familiarity. “If we were to work together—”
“Ms. Vanderley, is this man bothering you?” The masculine voice came from behind her.
Whipping around, she faced a beautiful young man with short auburn hair and a deadly serious expression on his flawless face. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a prettier man in her entire life.
“No, Mr. Cortez wasn’t bothering me,” she said. “We were just…talking.”
“I wasn’t aware that you two were acquainted.” The young man looked right at Quinn.
“We aren’t,” she said. “I mean we weren’t until a few minutes ago when Mr. Cortez rescued me from a marauding band of reporters.”
Giving Quinn a harsh look, the other man held out his hand to Annabelle as he focused all his attention on her. “I’m Sergeant Chad George, ma’am. My partner and I are the detectives in charge of the investigation into your cousin’s death.”
“Her death? I was told she was murdered.”
“Yes, ma’am, she was,” Chad said. “Allow me to offer you my condolences.”
“On behalf of the Memphis police department?” Quinn asked. “Or are you offering Ms. Vanderley your personal condolences, sergeant?”
Annabelle sensed a hostile tension between the two men as they glowered at each other. And she had the oddest sensation that, for the moment, she was the prize in this particular battle of wills.
“Both,” Chad said sharply, then softened his voice when he spoke again. “Ms. Vanderley, if there’s anything I can do for you…”
“I would like to speak to you and your partner and anyone else involved in this case. I will be representing my family in this matter and expect to be kept informed about anything and everything involving my cousin’s murder.”
“Certainly. Lieutenant Norton and I have an appointment with Mr. Cortez”—Chad glanced at his wristwatch—“right now, so allow me to escort you to the director’s office. He’s expecting you and can answer some of your questions. Then when Norton and I are free, we’ll be glad to do whatever we can for you.”
Annabelle gave Quinn Cortez a sidelong glance. “Is Mr. Cortez a suspect?”
Silence.
Annabelle glanced back and forth from one man to the other. “Knowing if Mr. Cortez is a suspect falls under keeping me informed about anything and everything to do with Lulu’s murder.”
Chad cleared his throat, then said hurriedly, “Mr. Cortez discovered the body. We will be questioning him again this morning, with his attorney present.”
As if on cue, Kendall Wells stepped off the elevator directly behind them. “What have we here, a little informal powwow?” she said as she approached her client. “You’ve been behaving yourself, haven’t you, Quinn?”
“Don’t I always?” he replied.
His lawyer gave him a censoring glance, then zeroed in on the sergeant. “We’re here on time and ready for the interview. Let’s get this over with so Mr. Cortez can—”
“We’ll be ready for y’all shortly,” Chad snapped his response, then turned to Annabelle, all smiles and concern. “Ms. Vanderley, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to Director Danley’s office.” He took her arm and tugged gently.
Annabelle went with him, all the while fighting the urge to look back at Quinn Cortez.
“Don’t make us cool our heels too long,” Ms. Wells called after them.
Sergeant George mumbled under his breath. “I apologize for someone not meeting you outside and escorting you in. It’s unfortunate that you had to be subjected to meeting Quinn Cortez, especially this morning, so soon after…Well, I am sorry.”
“Exactly who is Quinn Cortez and why did he think I should have heard of him?”
Chad harrumphed. “The man’s an egomaniac. He thinks the whole world knows who he is because he’s a criminal defense lawyer who has gotten quite a few murderers off scot-free. He just won a big case over in Nashville. The Terry McBryar case.”
“Oh, yes, I seem to recall hearing something about that trial on the news. Wasn’t McBryar’s lawyer some hotshot from Texas?” Annabelle gasped as she remembered what one newscaster had said about McBryar’s lawyer, whose name she’d forgotten.
He not only has a reputation as a dangerously formidable opponent in the courtroom, but also as a real lady-killer in his personal life.
She wasn’t sure why that comment had stuck with her when she had forgotten the man’s name and had no memory of seeing him on the newscast. The words dangerously formidable and lady-killer repeated themselves again and again in Annabelle’s mind.
“A far as I’m concerned, Cortez is scum,” Chad told her. “He’s an immoral moneygrubber. A real shyster.”
“Are you saying you believe the man has no conscience? If that’s the case, then he’s capable of murder, isn’t he? Is that what you think—you think he killed Lulu?”
Chad coughed, then cleared his throat. She glanced at him and noted a slight pink flush to his cheeks.
“Here we
