“I haven’t forgotten anything about you,” Bennett said softly.
His words pulled her gaze toward him. “And I didn’t forget you.” Despite her best efforts. She’d tried to move the hell on, but it was hard—especially when your heart was buried in the past.
“I have to know something.” His voice rumbled as he kept staring at her with that heated green stare of his. “It’s not the right time, not the right place…”
No, because they were supposed to be looking for a killer.
“But do you hate me, Ivy?”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she gave a hard, quick shake of her head. “Of course not! I could never hate you.”
Some of the tension seemed to ease from his shoulders.
“Why does it matter how I feel?” Ivy asked him, driven to know this.
“Because you matter. You always have. You always will.”
Shock rolled through her.
Bennett glanced away from her. “Let’s check the ballroom.”
Wait—that was it? No more personal sharing? Now they were on to the ballroom? She shook her head and followed after him. He’d better not try to play his mind games with her. She wasn’t the game playing type. He’d learn that fact, very soon.
They were in the area known as the “back hall”, a long stretch full of tables and makeshift bars. The drinks were free and flowing heavily in this section, and they had to dodge the bar lines in order to gain access to the darkened ballroom.
Once they got into the main ballroom, she saw a band performing on the stage—music blared out, echoing through the cavernous room. Disco lights swept the scene every few moments. As heavy as the crush had been in the back hall, attendance was pretty sparse in that ballroom.
There were several hundred tables set up in the area, and some caterers were preparing the food, but after being in the madness of the back hall, this place—and its relative peace—was almost a relief.
“When we find out the victim’s identity, then we’ll be closer to knowing our killer,” Bennett said.
She nodded, knowing his words were true. Her shoulder brushed against Bennett. “There,” she said, pointing to the man in the white mask who was standing to the side, no date in sight. “He’s the right height, the right weight…”
And he seemed to be looking right at her.
Actually, he was striding toward her as she watched him.
She felt Bennett tense against her.
The man in the mask was closing in fast. “Hello, there…” The guy’s voice hitched up, sounding a bit on the drunk side. “Want to dance?” He offered his hand to her.
Bennett moved in front of her. “No, she damn well doesn’t,” he said immediately. “Who the hell are you?”
The guy in the mask weaved. “No names…” His eyes crinkled a bit behind the holes in his mask. “That’s how it works.”
“The hell it does,” Bennett fired back.
Um, the plan had been for Cameron to identify potential suspects. Bennett didn’t need—
Bennett snatched the mask right off the guy.
Ivy’s lips parted in surprise as she found herself staring at Laxton Crenshaw, a city councilman. And he was glaring at Bennett.
“You don’t touch me,” Laxton said, and he surged toward Bennett, fumbling for the mask. “No one touches me!”
Bennett side-stepped the guy’s lunge and Laxton fell to the floor.
The scent of booze drifted off the councilman, nearly burning the air around them. Laxton tried to get up, but he just fell right back down.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Bennett motion with his hand, and a uniformed cop rushed over. One of his men.
“Councilman, I’m going to need to know where you were earlier tonight…” Bennett said.
The councilman flipped him off, then he fell back on the floor, laughing.
“That’s not a very good alibi,” Ivy pointed out.
Laxton’s laughter faded. He glanced toward her. His smile turned a little cruel.
He’s the right size. And he’d sure zeroed in on her. Could he be the killer?
“We’re going to need to escort the councilman out,” Bennett told the uniformed cop. “I think he may have overindulged tonight.”
And she knew exactly what Bennett was doing. He was going to take the councilman away under the drinking-too-much ruse and grill the guy. Good technique, she had to give him that and—
The music died. The disco lights flashed off. The overhead lights that had been muted to a faint glow also suddenly disappeared.
The only illumination in the ballroom came from the sputtering candles that lined the tables.
“What the hell?” Bennett demanded.
A loud, shrieking alarm pierced the darkness.
Then people started running. Nearly stampeding as they rushed toward the ballroom’s exit doors—doors that just led to the overflowing back hall.
Shouts and cries filled the air.