He smiled, reading right through her. “If he knew his daughter was being cuckolded, I’d say that was a pretty powerful motive for murder, wouldn’t you, Max?”
If Baxter Newton truly loved his daughter, yes. Their good-natured banter even in the face of Lance’s murder and Bud’s intrusion spoke of a loving relationship.
“Does he have an alibi?”
“He attended the same function that Julia did, Max.”
Max pursed her lips. “I suppose everyone vouches for him, too, the same as they did for Julia.”
That smile again, God, the man was really up to something, and Max didn’t like not knowing what. “Baxter was, in fact, Julia’s main alibi,” he revealed.
Her heart picked up the pace. “And was she his?”
“Exactly, my dear.” He turned to look directly at her this time. “Tell me, Max, don’t you think a daughter would want to protect her beloved father? And vice versa?”
Max chewed on the inside of her lip, chewed on all the possibilities, even as she thought of Bud Traynor’s dead daughter. Wendy would have lied for him simply because he’d force her to, and love be damned. “Baxter Newton doesn’t seem like the violent type. Most loving fathers don’t murder their daughters’ philandering husbands.”
Hand loose on the wheel, Bud changed lanes without doing a visual check, pulling to the right to pass a slower moving compact. “Do you know what Lance did, Max?”
“As in his job?” At her question, Bud nodded slightly. “No, I don’t.” Investing. It offered a broad spectrum and not much detail.
“Investment banking. Financial advisement. Estate planning. Baxter was one of his largest clients.”
Ah, love and money. “And did he give Baxter some bad advice?”
“Actually, I have it on good authority that Baxter thought Lance was stealing from him.”
Skeptical, Max made a face “I saw that house. I don’t think Lance was having money problems.”
“All Julia’s. Everything is in her name. Trust funds, the like. Baxter wanted to protect her from gigolos.”
Max almost laughed at the term, but the motive was deadly serious. She thought of the condo Lance had bought and furnished for Angela. Yes, he might need more money, and he might not care if it belonged to someone else. “Couldn’t Julia have divorced him? Seems like an easier solution.”
“It’s appears love turns a blind eye once again, Max.”
There were definite possibilities in what Bud Traynor was saying. “Do you know for a fact either of them suspected he was having an affair?”
“Affairs. He had many. Did they know for sure? That’s what you’re supposed to find out.” This time he did reach out and graze her knee with his index finger. Thank God she’d worn slacks instead of a skirt. His touch on bare skin might have made her puke.
“Keep your hands off me.”
“Or what, Max? You have to follow it up with a threat.”
“I don’t. We both know you want me to beg you to touch me. Capitulation is what you want.” He’d use coercion, but Max knew physical force wasn’t in Bud’s game plan. He wasn’t above it. He merely prided himself on getting what he wanted through sheer willpower.
He laughed outright. “Correct, Max. The rest is merely an appetizer.”
“You still haven’t told me why you want to find Lance’s killer.”
“Did I say I wanted that, Max?”
Yes, he had, she was sure. Wasn’t she? “Let me rephrase. Tell me why you want me to prove Baxter Newton did it?”
The smile on his lips finally reached his eyes, but it was black and corrupted. “You’re a smart girl, I think you can figure out what I want.”
She looked straight ahead through the windshield. The red Honda in front pulled over as Bud rode its ass. She flipped back to his profile. “Jesus, you want Julia, don’t you?”
“I wouldn’t mind controlling her money.”
“And to get it, you need Baxter out of the way.”
“Your brains excite me, Max.”
She wished he’d been looking at her so she could verbally spit in his eye. “I won’t help you.”
“Yes, you will. Your goal is to find a killer. And in the end, Max, it won’t matter a damn who it is or who benefits from his exposure. I’ve watched you enough to know that.”
He was right. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but if all clues ended up pointing to Baxter Newton, she’d have to prove him a killer. Even if it meant serving Julia La Russa up to Bud on a silver platter.
*
Bud Traynor dropped her off in front of her apartment. She climbed from the car unhurried and with dignity. At least she hoped she did. His laughter floated from his open window as he sped away.
Her palms itched, and Cameron’s voice went through her head. Don’t get involved. He’ll turn on you like a rabid dog.
She was well aware of that, hence the sweaty, itching palms.