But if he had to, she hoped to God that it was Bud Traynor. She’d encountered the man in each of her other “cases”. Though encounter was such a mild word for someone so malevolent. Traynor was the devil incarnate, in her opinion, a murderous mastermind. One day she would prove the crimes against him, and she would bring him down.
Then she shrugged off the feeling of dread and the bad omen of mentioning Traynor’s name, but it was harder to ignore the guilt for wanting Witt to solve her problems. “All I’m going to do is help you find a killer. Nothing dangerous.”
He rolled his eyes, then changed the subject they were both uncomfortable with. “Aren’t you even curious about the other woman?”
Max shrugged, pretending she hadn’t been curious. Instead, she told him the conclusion she’d come to. “She’s either dead or she’s the killer.”
He smiled. “That’s the general line of thinking.”
She knew he referred to the cops in charge of the case. “So I’ll go to work on the wife.” When he opened his mouth to rebut, she cut him off. “And I’ll carry your cell phone in case of emergency.” She did a moment of debate, then plunged ahead. “You want to go to dinner?”
“Can’t. Got some stuff to do tonight.”
Cop stuff. That’s why he still wore his suit and had driven the department car.
Okay. He had a job to do. It wasn’t rejection. So she didn’t need that alarming tightness in her chest.
Now she knew he’d be safely out of the way when she made her little trip to the Embassy Hotel.
On his way back to his car, he turned. “Almost forgot.”
Her heart went into her throat. He’d already figured out her plan. “What?”
“A couple of people saw a guy in the vicinity.”
She stood away from the Miata. “What guy?”
“Someone who didn’t seem to belong in the area. Big, blocky dude, no neck. No ID from anyone on him. Any idea who he was, Max?”
She shook her head. Not a clue. But she sure as hell intended to find out if Blockhead was important.
Chapter Four
“You can’t go down there by yourself.”
“You sound like Witt.”
It was six o’clock in the evening. Max stood in front of her bathroom mirror and tied a knot in her red tie. She’d chosen one of the plain black pantsuits she normally wore for work, a cream colored blouse, and the tie. With her three-inch black pumps, she oozed feminine power.
Cameron’s essence wavered in the room. The lights flickered infinitesimally. Something red glowed outside the bathroom door. His eyes. His disapproval. There wasn’t a trace of his peppermint scent.
“You need backup.”
“Now you really sound like Witt.” From the mirror, she glared in his general direction. “Are you sure the two of you aren’t on speaking terms?”
“He has a hard enough time dealing with his father’s ghost. I think I’ll wait before introducing myself.”
She added a touch of blush to her cheeks and mascara to her lashes.
“Take Sutter.”
Max snorted. “Nobody’s mentioned her, Cameron.”
“I did, just now.” He always took even the slimmest connection to ride Max about the best friend she’d thrown away. “She’s a good choice.”
Max hadn’t spoken to Sutter Cahill in two years, not since Cameron died. Of course, that hadn’t stopped Sutter from leaving a message on her machine every few weeks. One of these days Max would get around to calling her back. One of these days when she was ready to talk about what happened. One of these days when she could accept Sutter’s comfort without crumbling into pent-up tears on the spot.
“Tonight is not the time to get reacquainted.”
Cameron’s sigh ruffled the short hair at the nape of her neck. “If you don’t take someone to keep an eye on you, I will find a way to let Witt know.”
God, she was surrounded by dictatorial men. And she hated being ordered around. “You and I both know you haven’t been able to get more than twenty feet away from me without fading out of existence.” Which actually did point to the theory that she was crazy. She ignored the implication. “So if I’m not near him, you can’t get near him.” She smiled at herself in the mirror as she put the finishing touches on her lips.
“I can always talk to Horace and get him to tell Witt. Haven’t you noticed how good we are at relaying messages through Ladybird?”
Bastard. In the past, Cameron had used Ladybird’s dead husband to pass on information. Now, he was threatening to use that ability against her. Cameron did, however, have a good point. She could get herself into big trouble on her own. Though she hated being told what to do, she wasn’t exactly stupid.
Besides, Cameron had managed to give Witt a psychic nudge before in an emergency. She didn’t know why but she trusted him to be true to his word and resist nudging Witt. If she didn’t go alone.
“All right, since you’re so worried, I think I’ll take...” She chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “I think I’ll take Ladybird.”