“It’s just her makeup, a few odds and ends, and her masks.”
“I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. In fact, you can just throw it in the dumpster downstairs.”
“You mean the way someone tossed your sister’s dead body in a dumpster?”
Nadine had the grace to flush this time. She took a deep breath, pursed her lips, then said, “Don’t bother judging me. And if you’re looking for a killer, maybe you ought to look in that damn salon. Why don’t you ask Ariel Sanchez how she felt about Tiffany stealing her husband three years ago?”
And then she slammed the door in Max’s face.
Chapter Seventeen
Max left the boxes in front of Nadine’s door and trotted down the stairs.
Nadine had just confirmed that Ariel had a pretty darn good motive for murder. But Max didn’t have to like it.
And it took her three years to get around to it? I think you better work on that one, Max.
Yeah. Good point. Suspecting her of murder just didn’t feel right. Besides, she liked Ariel.
Witt waited for her at the bottom of the stairs. “Good work. You’ve got a cop’s instincts.”
“Were you eavesdropping?” She went into attack mode, not wanting Witt to know how much she liked his compliment.
He took her arm and walked with her to the truck. “Backup. In case you hit trouble.”
“Thanks, but I can handle trouble all by myself,” she said as Witt pressed close to open the passenger-side door for her. She couldn’t climb into the truck without rubbing her butt against him. Bad idea. She stood her ground and glared at him over her shoulder. “And I think the worst trouble I’m in is from you, Detective.”
He fingered a lock of her hair, then inhaled deeply. “That’s not trouble, Max. That’s heaven.”
She pursed her lips. Very librarian. But heat rushed straight up between her legs. “Back off, buster, or I’ll have to jam my elbow in your ribs.”
Instead he leaned closer and whispered in her ear. Goosebumps peppered her arms. He was electric. “What’s this about Ariel Sanchez?”
Expecting sweet nothings, she turned and leaned back, stopped only by the ridge of the passenger seat in the small of her back. “How do you know about Ariel?”
He winked. “Eavesdropping, remember? Plus, I had a few beers at the local cop hang-out. Kept my ears open. Isn’t that what you wanted? The guys think she’s a looker.”
On the other side of the truck, a car pulled into the lot. Witt watched it over her shoulder.
“Well? Are the cops suspicious of her?”
“Not particularly.”
“Are you going to tell them what Nadine said?”
“If I find the right opening.” His breath tickled her temple. He fingered a button on her white shirt right between her breasts. “Is this the right opening?”
His scent awoke the sleeping monster inside. Tiffany yawned, stretched, and started to buzz with sexuality.
Max put her fist to his chest and pushed. “Would you be serious? We’re talking about murder here.”
“I do seriously want you.”
She rolled her eyes.
He held up his hands in surrender. “All right. Table that one for later. What do you think of Ariel Sanchez as our killer?”
“I’m leaning more towards Nadine.”
“Why?”
He was serious. He really wanted her opinion. “She’s got an ax to grind. She wants Jake for herself. She’s older and uglier than Tiffany.” God, that sounded bitchy. Tiffany again. “She’s probably hated her sister from the time they were kids.”
“Damn, you don’t pull any punches, lady.”
“I’m no lady.”
His blue eyes sparked, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Oh, Max, you definitely are a lady, but don’t get me started again. Might not be able to stop myself this time.”
His words fizzed like champagne bubbles in her bloodstream. Danger Will Robinson. Witt still had her cornered inside the vee of the door. Though, thank you Lord, he wasn’t close enough to breathe down her neck any more. Max tried to ignore him. At least certain parts of him. “Nadine is one angry woman.”
“Why’d she blab her innermost secrets to you?”
“Because I have the kind of face that causes people to bare their souls?”
“I’m ready to bare whatever you want.”
She slugged him in the arm. And she wasn’t doing a great job at ignoring those certain parts of him. “I’m walking home if you don’t quit.”
“You don’t really want me to quit. Fighting me is half your fun.” He smiled wickedly. “Giving in’ll be so much better. But what about Nadine? Use your cop instincts, sweetheart.”
She tingled with the endearment. So casual. So Cameronesque. “You’re the cop. You’re better at it.”
“I’ll teach you.”
Oh mama, what Tiffany would love to teach him. “So you want me to ask the ‘why’ question?”
He nodded, giving her that devilish, sexy grin again. She tried to ignore it, tried to ignore his mouth.