was late when Annie locked the door to her office and headed for her car. The other shops were all closed and the parking lot was nearly deserted. Storm clouds had rolled in this afternoon, blotting out the sun and replacing its warmth with something heavy and cloying. Now even the darkness seemed to have an ominous substance.
Discouragement sat on her shoulders like dead weight. She’d spent the day interviewing employees of the Fortune empire she thought might know something about Sophia and Clint Lockhart, or the identity of the woman’s most recent lover. Although the murdered woman hadn’t been well liked, people were still reluctant to talk. Annie hadn’t learned anything helpful. Back at her office, she had called Eden, who could add nothing helpful concerning the argument between Sophia and Clint Lockhart. She’d returned Cole’s page, but he’d been unavailable. Then she had gone back over her notes, looking for something—however slight—that she might have missed before.
Glad the long day was over, she had just opened the door to her Volkswagen when another car drove into the small lot and pulled up beside her. Annie’s gun was in her purse. Out of habit she checked to make sure the flap was unfastened as she squinted past the brightness of the headlights, trying to see the driver. The moment the lights blinked out, she recognized Cole behind the wheel.
Annie’s weariness disappeared. Bracing herself, she waited for him to emerge from his fancy sedan. He was here on business; of that there was no doubt. The two of them didn’t have a personal relationship, not anymore. So why was her heart thudding in her chest and that little knot of tension in her stomach twisting like a corkscrew?
“I’m glad I caught you,” he said as he joined her on the pavement. His hair was mussed as if he’d been raking his fingers through it. He used to do that when he was distracted or frustrated. It made him look more approachable, less polished. “Have you found out anything about the identity of Sophia’s lover?” he asked. Apparently he considered a simple greeting unnecessary.
Annie clutched her purse more tightly and stared up at him. It figured that the oppressive humidity didn’t appear to affect him, despite his dark suit. Except for his disorderly hair and the shadow along his jaw, he managed to look irritatingly well groomed. The man was unreal.
In comparison, Annie felt as grimy and disheveled as if she’d spent the day working as a field hand. Absently she licked her bare lips. No doubt her face was shiny too. Her stomach chose that moment to emit a low growl not unlike an unfriendly dog.
She was feeling distinctly unfriendly. And hungry—she hadn’t eaten since lunch.
“Hello to you too,” she replied, annoyed. “You’re beginning to sound like a broken record. Is that why you paged me?”
If Cole noticed her sarcasm, he chose to ignore it along with her question. “Have you had a chance to interview anyone on the list Mom and Ryan gave you?” he asked instead.
“How did you know about that?” Foolish question. Lily had probably mentioned it to him.
“We’re supposed to be working on this case together,” he pointed out, annoying her further because he was right. “Mom mentioned it, along with that argument Eden’s husband witnessed, when I talked to her last night. I thought you might need some help. I can take half the names and talk to them tomorrow.”
“Thanks, but I’ve already interviewed everyone,” Annie said, managing to keep the smugness from her voice. “Including Eden and her husband.”
His brows rose in apparent surprise, but all he said was, “Any leads?”
Annie’s exhaustion returned and she lifted her hair off her sticky neck, wishing she hadn’t left it loose. “Not really. Look, can we discuss this in the morning? It’s been a long day and I want to go home. I’m tired and hungry.”
As Cole glanced at his watch, something gold and heavy, he had the grace to look uncomfortable. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I’ve been working too, and I never thought about the time. How about we go somewhere and grab a bite? You can bring me up to speed.”
“I don’t think so,” Annie said quickly. The last thing she needed when her defenses were down was to spend time with him. “There’s nothing to tell. Eden’s husband Ben was the one who actually saw the quarrel. He never told Eden about the specifics until Sophia was killed. It didn’t seem all that significant until then. The only thing Eden’s husband had been able to add about Sophia’s argument with Clint was how angry they both were, and then how quickly she leaped to his defense. Ben figured she was sleeping with him, but unless I can find a dent in Lockhart’s alibi, none of that will matter.” She rolled her shoulders to loosen them. “Maybe Sophia had moved on to someone else before she was killed. Either no one knows, or they don’t want to tell me. As unpopular as Sophia was, I can’t imagine why people would want to protect her.”
“Maybe they’re afraid,” Cole suggested.
“Of what? The woman’s dead.”
His eyes narrowed. “Maybe it’s not her they’re protecting. Someone killed her—that’s pretty scary. Clint Lockhart has been known to have a nasty temper. He could have threatened anyone who might put the finger on him.”
The possibility had already occurred to Annie. “I haven’t been able to find out where he went yet or why he left, but I will,” she said aloud. “It just won’t be tonight. Besides, my cat’s waiting to be fed.”
Cole stepped closer. “So we’ll eat at your house.”
She was tempted to lean against his solid bulk for a few moments and draw strength from him, as she had so many times in the past. Instead she gave him the lethal stare that usually worked quite well on persistent men. “I beg your pardon?”
“Give me your address,” Cole said, obviously unfazed by her show of hostility. “I’ll pick up a pizza or some Chinese. You can go home and feed your cat, then we’ll eat while we talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about that can’t wait.” He wasn’t going to invade her personal space. When this case was over, the only memories she wanted of him were impersonal ones. “I’ll call you in the morning.” She got into her car, but, before she could pull the door shut, he grabbed it.
“What are you afraid of?” he asked as he closed it gently and leaned down to gaze at her through the open window.
“Not a damn thing.” Just myself, she thought as she stared down at his hand—so close—and resisted the ridiculous urge to cover it with her own.
“Prove it,” he persisted. “Where do you live?”
For a moment she withstood his gaze, ignoring the intense blue of his eyes and the sweep of his lashes. Did he think she was scared to be alone with him, that she couldn’t resist the great Cole Cassidy? Annoyed, she rattled off directions, knowing as she did that she’d fallen for one of the oldest tricks in the world—blatant manipulation.
With a faint grin, he straightened and gave the VW a pat. “What do you want to eat?” he asked as she started the engine.
“It’s your party. You pick.” Without giving him time to reply, she shifted gears and roared off as quickly as her old bug would go.
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