felt a twinge of disappointment. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“After last night, you needed the rest.”
She inhaled a deep breath of the salty air. “It’s been wonderful.”
Trace seemed to share her mood. “Tomorrow’s Sunday. We can spend the night if you want. Two staterooms down there. You wouldn’t have to worry about your virtue.”
She was surprised to discover she was tempted, but then sighed. She hardly knew Trace Rawlins, and it was never smart to get involved with someone who worked for you. “Thanks for the offer, but I need to get back.”
“Not a problem.” Wheeling the sailboat expertly through the opening into Clear Lake, he turned toward the marina and his slip at dock A. Easing the vessel neatly into its berth, he tossed a line over the side and pulled the boat in close, then tied it in place.
They’d been out of cell phone range when they were at sea, but now Trace’s iPhone started ringing down in the galley, where he had left it so it wouldn’t fall into the water.
He hit the ladder, reached out and grabbed the phone, pressing it against his ear as he returned to the deck.
“Rawlins.” The caller talked for a while and the lines of Trace’s face went hard. “How’d it happen?”
More conversation, then a muscle tightened in his jaw. “Neither do I. I’m on my way.” Trace hung up the phone and began to pull his jeans on over his swimsuit. “Looks like spending the night wouldn’t have worked for me, either.”
“What’s going on?”
“One of my clients turned up dead. The police think he killed himself. I don’t.”
Maggie slid her pants over her bikini bottoms and adjusted the gauzy cover-up, tying it up around her waist. “You’re saying it was murder?”
“Could be.”
She slipped on her sandals. “I guess finding a murderer tops catching a stalker.”
Trace shook his head. “One has nothing to do with the other. By the time we get home, your alarm system will be installed. As far as the creep goes who’s been bothering you, you hired me to do a job and that’s what I intend to do.”
“What about the murder?”
He gave her a hard-edged smile. “Ever heard of multitasking?”
Maggie didn’t doubt he could handle both cases. One glance at the dark look on his face and she felt sorry for the guy who had murdered his client.
“Besides,” Trace continued, “if Hewitt was murdered, I already know who did it.”
Six
They were headed back to Houston. The perfect day at sea had ended far too quickly.
As he dodged in and out of the heavy traffic on Highway 45, Trace mentally replayed the phone conversation he’d had on the boat.
“Trace, it’s Annie. You need to get back to town. That Sommerset case you just finished? Hewitt Sommerset turned up dead half an hour ago in his study. The police are calling it a suicide.”
Trace’s stomach had knotted. “How’d he die?”
“Gunshot wound to the head. His son doesn’t believe he pulled the trigger.”
He clenched his jaw. “Neither do I.” Hewitt was a good man. Trace needed answers and he was determined to get them.
The car in front of him slowed and he slowed as well, his mind drifting from Hewitt to the pretty redhead in the seat beside him. At least for a while, he had been able to keep Maggie’s mind off her stalker. He wasn’t sure how the man who had left the notes was keeping tabs on her, but there had been no sign of him on their way to the shore or at any time while they were there.
The figurine was another matter. Someone had broken into Maggie’s house. There were no visible signs of entry, but the locks were paltry and there were ways to get in without leaving evidence. By now, the security alarm would be operational and the locks all replaced. Even so, the guy was a threat that had to be dealt with.
Trace had spoken to Rex Westcott and put him on notice to be ready for the stakeout tonight. Maggie was safe for the moment.
Trace thought of the day he had spent with her. He didn’t have a problem mixing business with pleasure, not when it was a good way to do his job. He had let down his guard and relaxed more than he’d meant to, something he rarely did with a woman, but he liked Maggie O’Connell. She was smart and talented and vibrant. Along with that, she was sexy as hell.
He flicked a glance her way, caught a glimpse of soft lips and gorgeous red hair, and his groin tightened. He wanted to take her to bed, taste those pretty lips and lose himself in all those sweet curves.
It was a bad idea, he knew. Every time he got involved with a woman disaster struck.
This is different, he told himself. Nothing more than a physical attraction. He wouldn’t let himself get in too deep.
Trace took a last glance at Maggie, told himself that time would settle the matter one way or the other and forced his thoughts back to the more immediate problem at hand.
The death of his former client, Hewitt Sommerset.
Trace’s hands tightened around the steering wheel. The Saturday traffic along Route 45 had turned brutal. Maybe there was a wreck up ahead, roadwork, something. Whatever it was, his frustration was making him edgy and restless. He stepped on the brake for the hundredth time, bringing the Jeep to a halt behind the white Toyota pickup ahead of him.
He slammed a hand against the wheel. “Dammit! I need to talk to the police.”
Maggie turned in her seat. “You’re going to the crime scene?”
He nodded. “As soon as I drop you off, I’m heading for the Sommerset house.”
Her gaze went to the dense trail of cars rolling slowly along the pavement ahead of them. “Where is it?”
“The Woodlands.” Thirty miles north of Houston. “At this rate it’ll be dark by the time I get there.”
She studied the slow-moving traffic. “You’re probably right. It’ll be even later if you have to drop me off. Why don’t you just take me with you? I’ve got a good book. I can wait in the car until you’re finished. I can see this is important to you, and I really don’t mind.”
He started to say no, then paused. It wasn’t as if there was a shoot-out in progress. The questions he wanted answered and the information he had to deliver wouldn’t take that long. And with traffic the way it was, it would save him at least forty minutes.
“You sure?”
“Thanks to you I got some terrific material today. It’s the least I can do.”
Trace smiled, feeling a wave of
