The Finishing School by Michele Martinez Page B

said, looking up from the binders. Melanie caught her breath. Those eyes. How was she going to get through this?
    Dan pulled an eight-by-ten crime-scene glossy from its plastic sleeve and held it up for everyone to see. It showed Whitney Seward’s bedroom, looking toward the wall where her desk was, in the opposite direction from the bodies on the bed.
    “What about it?” Albano said. “That’s just the Crime Scene guys documenting the room.”
    “Just out of curiosity,” Dan asked, “anybody know who opened all the windows?”
     
11
     
    ROUNDING THE CORNER after collecting a legal pad and her briefcase from her office, Melanie didn’t see Dan O’Reilly standing by himself at the elevator until it was too late. She stopped in her tracks, feeling unprepared for the encounter. But he turned and saw her, so she walked up to him as naturally as she could manage.
    “Hey,” she said, forcing a bright smile, feeling like she’d been punched. Too many things came rushing back. The rough caress of his voice as he whispered in her ear, the taste of his mouth. She kicked herself for that time she’d made out with him in his car. If they’d never kissed, it wouldn’t hurt like this now.
    “Hey, yourself. How you been?” He smiled down at her with the bluest eyes she’d ever seen, tinged with sadness. Who was she kidding? She’d be hurting no matter what. This wasn’t just a sexual-attraction thing, never had been.
    She feigned a nonchalant shrug. “Hanging in. You?”
    He nodded. “Same.”
    “Okay. Good.”
    “You cut your hair,” he said. Her raven hair, which just skimmed her shoulders now, had been longer when they last saw each other. Dan’s arm twitched, as if he wanted to touch her but wouldn’t let himself.
    “I cut it a while ago. It’s easier to manage this way.” She smiled again, looking down at her boots, heart pounding.
    “Your boss is in fine form,” Dan offered after a pause.
    “Yeah. It’s called ‘
Hello
, I want to be a judge.’”
    “Oh, is that it?”
    “Definitely. You never know, Seward could be our next senator. The Senate approves appointments to the federal bench, so she’s being
very
deferential.”
    “She’s always got an angle, that one,” he said.
    They fell silent again. Looking at him was like staring into the sun, so she looked away. Her gaze settled on the elevator call button.
    “You didn’t press?” she asked.
    “I’m waitin’ on this Mulqueen chick. She’s in the ladies’ room.”
    “Oh.” She felt a violent stab of jealousy. Dan had volunteered to team up with Bridget to go interview Brianna Meyers’s family. Who knew? Maybe he was attracted to the young detective. The thought made her ill, which in turn reminded her she was supposed to stay away from this guy. She should just decide she hated him. There was no excuse for how he’d cut her off. A normal person would not have done that.
    “Here,” he said, and pressed the button for her.
    “Thanks.” Her stomach sank. He didn’t want to talk to her. Then again, she didn’t want to talk to him either. She did and she didn’t. She looked down at the floor again. Why didn’t he just walk away if he didn’t want to be here?
    “So what was that about Whitney Seward’s bedroom windows?” she asked, zeroing in on work. Work always made her feel better.
    “Maybe nothing,” he said. “But I had a case a few years back. Some jerk-offs hijacked a tractor-trailer loaded with Colombian cocaine. Thought they got away clean, but the Colombians hunted ’em down and killed ’em, one by one, like dogs. Anyways, one of the hijackers met his maker in some godforsaken little tract house on the edge of the Everglades. Middle of August, no trees anywhere around. Hundred and ten at high noon. But the body wasn’t discovered until a week after the murder. You know why?”
    “Air-conditioning?” she guessed.
    He smiled. “Very good. You haven’t lost your touch. Brand-new, heavy-duty A/C unit. Killer