“Lots of things I’m dying to do to you.”
A fire leapt inside her. Tiffany again. Yeah, right. She pursed her lips primly. “Be serious. What did you find out?”
“I was being serious.” He lifted a hand, drew a finger in a straight line from her throat down between her breasts to her abdomen.
She almost went up in flames.
He shoved his hand in his pocket. “You win. For now.”
This was winning? This combustible, uncontrollable need to jump his body right here, right now? Her nipples hardened like finely cut gemstones. And he looked at them.
She swallowed, a feat all on its own. Getting the next words out became an arduous task.
But Max wasn’t one to give up without a major fight. “You were going to tell me what you learned?”
Witt tore his gaze from her breasts. “Jake Lloyd has an alibi for Saturday night. His sister-in-law. He was allegedly crying on her shoulder until three in the morning.”
“Nadine Johnson?”
The Tiffany effect died a natural death with Max’s investigative excitement. Of course, she should have foreseen this development, known it as the reason Jake went back inside to Nadine instead of to the police. Duh, Max.
“How did you know her name?” Witt cocked his head. “What have you been up to?”
“Just hanging around.” And going through Lamont’s drawers, so to speak.
“Snooping again?”
Damn, was he reading her mind like Cameron? Or was Cameron feeding the detective his lines?
“Snooping for Wendy Gregory’s murderer almost got you killed.” He pierced her with that razor-sharp, annoying look of his. “And, as I recall, I had to rescue you.”
“Hah! No way. I took care of that little problem myself, thank you very much.”
“Will you always take care of your own problems?”
“Damn straight, buster.”
He stared, said nothing. She must have missed some message there and was glad she had. “I’ve got a pretty little tidbit for you to pass on to your cop buddies.”
His mouth quirked. It wasn’t quite a smile. “What?”
“They’ve managed to reschedule all Tiffany’s appointments.”
He scratched his chin. “Logical. It is a business, and we know how women are about getting their hair and nails done.”
“That’s an extremely sexist comment.” She snorted. “Nothing more than I’d expect from a macho cop type.”
He sighed, a long suffering sound similar to Cameron’s. “You got a point in there somewhere?”
“You’re pushing my buttons, Detective. But I’ll tell you anyway. They started changing her schedule right after they found out she was dead. In fact, they’re almost done. That’s one helluva lot of planning and juggling to do.” She crossed her arms and beamed at him, set to deliver her killing blow. “Unless of course, they started working it out on Sunday. Which means—”
“They might have known she was dead before her body was found.” He pondered that a moment, his dimples disappearing inside a slight frown. “My, my, you do have a point. Not enough to make an arrest, but enough to get our boys to check. I’ll pass it on, let them do a little of their own digging.”
Max smiled, enormously pleased with herself. “So, did you tell them Nadine Johnson had to be lying about her alibi for Jake Lloyd?”
Silence. She figured he was absorbing her question or getting ready to fly off the handle. Then, in a mild tone, he said, “Can’t tell them something I don’t have a shred of evidence to back up.”
“Tell them you have a mystery witness.”
“I’m a cop, not a reporter that can hide behind ‘sources.’”
“Then I’ll tell them I was at the Round Up that night. I can describe the whole scene quite clearly, and ID Jake Lloyd right down to the red and black plaid shirt he wore.”
Witt raised his eyebrows, but didn’t comment on that particular detail. “But I know you weren’t there, and I’d be legally required to turn you in if you committed perjury.”
Full sentences. She loved it when she got his back up with all that procedural stuff. “All right, fine, then we’ll have to find a way to break his alibi. I think I’ll pay a call on Nadine Johnson right after work tomorrow.”
Damn, she should have done it tonight. Caught Jake and Nadine together. Needled until one of them broke down.
“I’ll go with you.”
“Forget it. You look like a cop. You’ll blow my cover.”
“Cover? When did you set up a cover?”
Oops. That little run-in with Pippa Louise Lamont had really given her diarrhea mouth. Nothing to do but go with it now. So to speak. “I had a little talk with Jake.”
Witt’s face clouded over. “Dammit, Max.”