“Could I dance with Lacey?” A familiar low voice spoke behind her.
They stopped moving and Lacey felt heat from Jack’s body touch her exposed back. Apprehension waltzed up her spine and she slowly turned from Michael to face the source of that heat. Jack wasn’t looking at her. His hard gaze was on her dance partner. “No problem.”
And she was in Jack’s arms. He held her closer than Michael did. Firmer too. His grip was possessive, his touch smoldering on her back. Lacey was speechless for a full thirty seconds.
“Are you enjoying the party?” she asked, floundering for words. She brought her gaze up and was snared by the intensity in his eyes. Still hot and steely gray.
“I am now.”
She blinked and focused on the buttons on his shirt, reliving the harsh words she’d thrown at him that morning. She’d overdone it. But he was offering an olive branch.
“Flirting with me in front of your date isn’t very polite,” she stated. She’d a felt a prick of sympathy for the woman. A very small prick.
He didn’t answer. But instead, his mouth showed the smartest-ass grin she’d seen on him yet.
She stopped moving and his grin widened.
“What’s wrong? What is so funny?”
“My sister wants to know where you bought your dress.”
“Your what?” she squeaked.
“My sister,” he answered firmly. “She likes your dress.” His eyes twinkled. “And so do I. Very much.” He stepped away from her the littlest bit and deliberately let his gaze roll over her from head to toe.
She moved into him to block his view of her dress and tipped up her nose. “Saks,” she replied primly. She was going to say something to Michael later for deliberately not telling her the woman was Jack’s sister.
He tossed back his head and laughed, ignoring the glances of the other dancers. Still chuckling, he spun her around in a tight circle and planted a kiss on her forehead.
Lacey’s heart leaped.
Melody arched a perfectly waxed brow as she watched her brother laugh. He did know the woman. Why had he ignored her when she’d pestered him for the blonde’s name? Her gaze slid over the black backless dress, knowing she could never wear a dress like that. Too many moles dotted her back. She’d had the bigger ones removed, but was still self-conscious about the others.
She grabbed the arm of another organizer passing by. “Sheila, who’s my brother dancing with?” The heavily diamonded woman stopped and squinted Jack’s way.
“I don’t know,” Sheila murmured and flicked a wrist. “Never saw her before. Oh! Wait a minute.” She squinted again as the blonde woman’s face came into view.
“I think that’s Dr. Campbell. I don’t remember her first name. Something about fashion.”
A doctor? That tiny woman was a doctor?
“She has a doctorate in fashion? As in fashion design?” Melody stared at Sheila.
“No, no.” The woman primped her highlighted French twist, eyeing Jack with a gleam in her eye that put Melody in vigilant big-sister mode. “She’s a dentist. It’s her first name that escapes me. Something like Calico or Indigo. You know, kinda fancy.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s it. Lacey. Lacey Campbell. Her father’s the state medical examiner. I saw him around here earlier.”
Melody watched the divorced woman’s interest refocus to finding James Campbell as she flittered away. For an older guy, he’d be a good catch. Handsome, rich, and widowed. Even Melody had eyed him at one time, only to decide the age difference was too much. But Sheila was ten years older than her. At least ten years.
Melody watched her brother kiss the blonde on the forehead. Hmm. Jack wasn’t one for public displays of attention. A dentist? That explained why the woman was here tonight, but didn’t explain why Jack couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off of her. Had her little brother finally found a good woman? Melody tipped her head a bit as she studied the couple. They truly did look happy as they danced. Melody caught Jack’s gaze and gave him a discrete thumbs-up. His returning grin lit up his face.
Lacey rested her temple against his jacket and smiled. He smelled good. Completely male and warm. His hand slid up her back and down again, stopping lower down than it had before. Any lower and he’d figure out she wore nothing under the dress. She couldn’t. Every undergarment she’d tried on showed some sort of obvious line or came up too high for the low back. Thankfully, the dress had built-in support for the front, but lower down was a problem.
He positioned her closer as the music slowed and she let her eyes drift shut, reveling in the sensation of feeling safe and protected. The music was lovely, the man was dreamy, and she was the happiest she’d felt in a long time. Maybe they were on to something good.
A new hand on her shoulder broke open her reverie. Michael.
“Lace, can I talk to you a minute?”
“Later,” Jack growled at him.
Michael’s shoulders snapped back but he leaned closer to Jack’s face. “I need to talk to her now.”
Afraid one of these temperamental men was about to throw a punch, Lacey pushed away from Jack and made Michael back up a step. “Knock it off. The next caveman who growls will get my heel jammed in his arch.” She crossed her arms and gave her attention to Michael. “What’s so important you need to tell me this very second?”
Michael took a deep breath. “I need to tell you what I found in Mount Junction.”
“Now?” She was skeptical. “Why didn’t you tell me on the way here? I asked about your trip, but you changed the subject.”
“I just got a call I’ve been waiting for.”
“Right now? Here?”
Michael nodded. “I managed to convince the police down there to take another look at some old cases. When I told them what I believed about Amy’s death...”
“Who?” Jack cut in.
Lacey shushed him. “Just a minute.” Her eyes were all for Michael. “What did they say?”
“It wasn’t easy to convince them, but I dug up two other deaths down there that had been classified as accidents. In both, the victim was a blonde female and ended up with broken legs. Each time the breaks were attributed to something sorta normal occurring at the time of death. Like saying Amy’s breaks were from the rocks in the river or the accident impact.”
“Who in the hell are you talking about?” Jack’s tone was frustrated.
“A gymnastics teammate of mine.” Lacey instinctively put out a hand to stop Jack from moving closer to Michael. “She died in an accident when she drove her car into a rough river in Mount Junction, but Michael doesn’t think it was an accident.” Lacey’s words came slowly. They were hard to say and even harder to believe.
“And now the police believe there are more murders like Suzanne Mills? In Mount Junction?” Jack sounded stunned.
“Yeah. You like visiting Mount Junction, Jack?” Jack lunged toward Michael, and Lacey stepped directly in front of him to brace him with her body. “Stop it! Both of you! Michael, knock it off! That’s not funny!”
She ignored the nasty words Jack was muttering under his breath about Michael’s parentage. “He’s got a condo in Mount Junction, Lace, at the ski resort.”
“What?” Her stomach clenched as she caught Michael’s line of reasoning. He was way out of line.
“Jack. He owns a condo at the resort. It’s been in his family for two decades. Right up the mountains from Mount Junction. He skis there several times a year.”
“That doesn’t mean a thing.” Lacey warned Michael with her eyes.
“No. But it’s one more damn coincidence linking him to this mess.”
“You sack of shit! What’re you trying to say?” Jack spit the words. “Are you going to print it on the front page? Try to insinuate me into another girl’s death?” His voice rose to a shout. “Ruin my business? The company my father started?”
Jack stepped around Lacey and strode forward at Michael, who took two rapid steps back and bumped into the wall. Jack pressed him against the wall with a hand on his chest. “Who do you think you are to mess with people’s lives?”
Lacey pulled at the back of Jack’s tux, trying to get him away from Michael. It was like trying to get a grip on an elephant.
Michael threw up a knee, barely missing Jack’s groin. Jack stumbled backward and tripped Lacey. She felt a dress seam split at her hip.
Jack kept his feet and dived forward with a shoulder, caught Michael squarely in the chest and took them both down.
“Michael!” Lacey gasped. Her hair fell out of its clip and swung into her eyes. She yanked it out of the way and checked her dress for any exposed body parts. The ripped side seam revealed six inches of her hip and waist but nothing too intimate.
A crowd gathered around the men, swarming forward like a shark scenting blood. Glittering women shrieked or stared in horror, their mouths forming a stunned “O” shape. Some of the men glanced at one another, looking for a suggestion of whom to side with. Others just grinned and enjoyed the show.
Lacey grabbed two fresh drinks from a stunned waiter and dumped the contents on the scrambling men’s heads. Neither flinched. Strong hands gripped her shoulders and set her aside. She stared at her father’s back as he latched onto Jack’s coat, yanked him off balance, and threw him backward where a couple of men grabbed both his arms. James Campbell planted a firm foot on Michael’s chest, pinning him to the floor.
“That’s enough!” her father roared. Two hotel security guards shoved their way through the crowd and came to a halt. Seeing everything under control for a second, they glanced at each other, then looked expectantly to the man with one foot on Michael’s chest.
Lacey drew in a deep breath and stepped forward, glaring from one dripping man to the next. Jack caught her eye, raised a brow and licked a thin stream of alcohol from the side of his mouth. He didn’t look one bit embarrassed. Jack shrugged, trying to free his arms, but the two men holding him gripped tighter. With disgust, Lacey noticed the men wore twin expressions of enthusiasm, relishing their small role in the brawl.
She turned to glower at Michael and noticed his gaze was locked on the tear at her hip. She checked to confirm everything was still rated PG and waved a hand for her father to let him up. Michael pushed up into a sitting position, and his split lip dripped blood mixed with booze onto his white shirt. Lacey snagged a cocktail napkin and dabbed at the blood on his face.
“You are being crazy. This is way out of line. Why in the world are you deliberately pushing his buttons like that? You know he’s not a killer. Is this about the other night? Please tell me this isn’t some sort of getting back at him. You’re bigger than that, Michael.”
“Leave it.” Michael pushed her ministrations away and moved smoothly to his feet. Giving Jack a stony stare, he turned to the hotel security guard, who was speaking on his radio. “Are the police coming?” At the guard’s nod, Michael cast back a smoking glance at Jack. “Good. I’m pressing charges.”