So close, Max smelled his sweat, a tangled odor of fear, guilt, and rage. “I told you I didn’t kill her.”
“Maybe not. But do you have the guts to bring her killer to justice? Do you even want to? You’re finally free of her.”
Max stared at him for a full ten seconds, then walked away. His gaze bored a hole into her back as Tiffany’s laughter pounded in her ears.
Chapter Thirteen
Max didn’t return to her car. Instead, she circled through the neighboring complex and came back to watch Jake’s truck. She waited. And waited. At ten-thirty, she gave up, started her car, and roared off into the darkness to her own small studio apartment.
Jake Lloyd had not gone in search of Tiffany’s killer. He’d gone back inside Nadine Johnson’s apartment, and he hadn’t left again.
“Wimp,” Max murmured.
“Do you believe him?” Cameron’s question blew through her hair.
She parked, climbed from the car, then banged the door closed with her hip. “You knew all along he didn’t kill Tiffany,” she said.
“I don’t even know that now.”
“Yes, you do. That’s why you let me challenge him.”
“I told you I would trust your judgment. You should, too. Everything you said to him was true, wasn’t it?”
“Of course. Guilt rolled off him in waves. He left her, then she died. He feels responsible.” Max sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and bit down lightly. “But he hasn’t run to the police with the information. Why not?”
“Why did he run to Nadine Johnson?” Cameron turned the question back on her, then whisked away in its wake as a vehicle door slammed behind her.
“Where ya been, Max?”
Oh shit. Just the detective she’d wanted to avoid. Dammit. His black Ram sat beneath a streetlight. She should have seen it. She would have, too, if Cameron hadn’t preoccupied her by discussing Jake Lloyd. “Have you been waiting awhile, Long?”
He smiled, his teeth bright in the moonlight. “Checked to see if you were in when I got off work, then I had business. Thought I’d look one more time before going home.”
“How considerate of you to worry about me, Detective. It’s really not necessary.” She rounded the end of her car and stepped onto the sidewalk.
Witt followed. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, he smelled of soap and shampoo. “You didn’t leave your cell phone on,” he admonished.
“It’s your cell phone so I didn’t want to wear the batteries down.”
“Admit it. You’re afraid I’ll actually call you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not afraid of anything, certainly not you.”
Witt laughed out loud, the sound faintly reminiscent of Cameron. “You’re terrified of me. I like that. Means there’s a whole helluva lot of possibilities.” He took another step, crowding her close to a lamp post with a burned-out light. “Now, don’t you want to know what I learned today?”
The level of his voice was seductive, enticing, as if he was talking sex instead of Tiffany business. But then everything concerning Tiffany was about sex. “What?” she croaked.
“Come closer.”
Said the spider to the fly.
Her body moved forward of its own volition. God, his closeness made her tingle all over.
“I want a bounty.” He reached for her hands. Darkness blanketed the two of them. An owl hooted in a nearby tree.
His touch sent blood rushing from her weakened knees to her clitoris, then to her brain, leaving her lightheaded, breathless, hot, and wet.
“Kiss me, Max. That’s not asking too much.”
This close, his blue eyes were intoxicating.
“You’re crazy, Detective. No way am I kissing you.” Her tone lacked conviction.
He put his fingers on her throat, his touch warm, then tipped her chin with his thumb. “Just one.” His breath was cinnamon-stick sweet.
She had the insane urge to close her eyes, lean into him, and part her lips.
No! And hell no! Max didn’t want this, Tiffany did. Only Tiffany would let Witt get this close.
All it took was one step back, even if she was pulled up short by the damn light post. Still, it put enough space between them so Max could breathe again. Witt’s hand dropped slowly, and Tiffany drifted away. Thank God. Max knew Cameron was laughing out there, somewhere.
Witt smiled. He’d been doing that a lot recently. Scary. “Almost got you on that one.”
Dammit, she almost wished she’d done it. Just gone ahead, opened her mouth, stroked his lips, sucked his tongue, climbed his body, and wrapped her legs around his waist ... jeez, she needed to get a grip here. “I was debating whether or not to hurt your feelings.”
“Always have an answer, don’t you?”
“Damn right.” Even if it wasn’t always the truth. “So what was it you wanted to tell me?”
“Not sure I’m going to now. Didn’t get my bounty.”
He stood close, but the distance was manageable. She shrugged. “I guess it’s not something I really need to know—unless you’re dying to tell me.”