Emery remembered every fact of the case. A college freshman killed by a fellow student after a bar fight gone terribly wrong. The kid drove for miles, probably days, to hide it. A horrible situation, but one where she connected the dots that led the police in one state to identify the body of what was thought to be a young homeless man found in another.
Nothing about the case pointed to a man named Wren or a millionaire with a thing for black suits. Still, hearing he played a role made her skeptical of all of it. “Are you sure he didn’t do it?”
“Is there anyone you don’t think I’ve killed?” His tone barely changed after being accused of a vicious crime.
The lightness touched off her temper. Sent it spiking. “Maybe. I can’t rule you out since I don’t know you.”
“She has you there,” the senator said.
Emery pulled the chair back and sat down facing him. “Are you supposed to be some sort of private investigator?”
He frowned. “Definitely not.”
Before she could fire off another question, the senator stepped in. “He fixes things.”
That didn’t explain anything. Emery started to wonder if everyone was talking in code. “Like clogged sinks?”
“More like he makes the problems of companies and government, and sometimes private citizens, go away,” the senator said.
Emery looked at Wren. For whatever reason, he was letting the senator do most of the talking. That had to be on purpose and he must have a reason because he struck her as a guy who insisted on being in control.
She wanted him to start talking. “That’s an actual job?”
He nodded. “A very lucrative one, yes.”
Of course it was. He practically dripped of money. “That explains the fancy suit.”
He glanced down at his lap. “It’s black.”
The same color as the one he wore yesterday. Today’s tie was a slightly different shade and had a pattern. She guessed the suit was the second of fifty identical ones he had hanging in his closet. This guy just looked like the type to color code his clothes and line them up with an inch between each hanger.
For some reason that thought made her even more cranky. “It probably cost more than my car.”
He didn’t break eye contact. “I guess that depends on what you drive.”
The senator cleared her voice. She also rolled her eyes. “That’s not helpful.”
Something in her tone or comment must have spurred him on because he started talking without being prompted. “Thirteen years ago I was in graduate school.”
“Where?”
He shook his head. “Nowhere near here.”
She wanted to yell, “Gotcha!” but settled for a self-satisfied smirk. “I didn’t say where Tiffany disappeared from.”
“Touché.” For a second a smile edged the corner of his mouth, but it quickly disappeared. “Still, you have the wrong man, Ms. Finn.”
“Because you say so?”
He stood up. Without warning or any fanfare he pushed his chair closer to the desk and rebuttoned his suit jacket. “We’ve met, as you wanted, so you can now stop digging for information on me and move on.”
There is no way he could think those answers satisfied her. “You are an arrogant ass.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that.” He glanced over at the senator. “Thanks for the lovely meeting.”
As he pivoted to leave, Emery shot up and stood in front of him. Didn’t touch him, but stepped right into his path, daring him to push past her. Heat rolled off his body and smacked into her. This close she could see the whiskers on his chin. Even fought the urge to run a finger over them.
She should hate him, be scared of him—something. He stood for everything she hated. He used his power to push people around. He’d basically threatened her. Forget the whole stupidly handsome thing, that dark, mysterious quality that had her wanting to know more. It wasn’t as if he’d ever even been nice to her. She’d been searching and he had the answers and he hid. She shouldn’t be short of breath. Shouldn’t have this cloud of confusion muddling her brain.
“Well?” He looked down as if waiting to see what she planned to do.
Good question. She’d only thought this far. “You can’t leave.”
“Watch me.” He stepped around her.
She shifted in front of him a second time. “Wren . . .”
She grabbed on to the sleeve of his jacket and he immediately stopped. When her hand dropped again, he nodded and left. Walked right to the door without even bothering to look back.
Emery just stood there, stuck to the spot. Her legs refused to move and the air whistled in her lungs. It took all of her energy to think through the conversation she just had. A noise broke through. It took another few seconds for her to realize the senator was talking to her. Emery spun around to face her.
“Emery, please sit down.”
She couldn’t do anything but stand there. “He just got up and left.”
“I know.” She smiled. “It’s sort of his go-to move for exiting a room.”
Emery couldn’t process the last five minutes. “Him, as in Brian or Wren or whatever we’re calling him.”
“He’s Wren. He goes by Brian Jacobs so that people don’t know he’s actually Wren. It’s a shield of sorts.” The senator cleared her throat. “Very few people know who he really is. I’ve seen him badgered by the best and never admit he’s Wren.”
“But he told me.” Which didn’t make sense. Like, not at all.