closing on her. “I’m being interviewed.”
“What’s the difference?” She stepped out of the elevator, taking every precaution to make certain her body didn’t so much as graze his.
Ignoring her question, he said, “I want you to know something, Ms. Vanderley.”
“What’s that, Mr. Cortez?”
Staring at each other, eye to eye, tension vibrated between them. Subconsciously, Annabelle held her breath in anticipation.
“I didn’t kill Lulu,” he said.
Annabelle 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 inthis matter and expect to be kept informed about anything and everything involving my cousin’s murder.”
“Certainly. Lieutenant Norton and I have an appointment
“What’s the difference?” She stepped out of the elevator, taking every precaution to make certain her body didn’t so much as graze his.
Ignoring her question, he said, “I want you to know something, Ms. Vanderley.”
“What’s that, Mr. Cortez?”
Staring at each other, eye to eye, tension vibrated between them. Subconsciously, Annabelle held her breath in anticipation.
“I didn’t kill Lulu,” he said.
Annabelle 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 inthis matter and expect to be kept informed about anything and everything involving my cousin’s murder.”
“Certainly. Lieutenant Norton and I have an appointment
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