Max always went after what she wanted.
She leaned forward but before she could kiss him, his left hand was on her wrist. He shook his head slightly, but she ignored his hesitation. Her lips parted and his right hand went behind her neck and pulled her lips to his. The sudden lust jolted her, unexpected but very much wanted. Her hand found his hard bicep and squeezed as their kiss deepened to the point where she wanted to take him upstairs without delay. Their attraction was mutual, and by the one kiss it was clear to her that they would be very compatible in bed.
He pulled back first. He didn’t have to tell her he was leaving; she saw it in his eyes.
“I don’t want this,” he said.
She managed a sly smile, even through her racing heart. “You don’t?”
He got up, picked up his files, and stared at her. That’s when she realized it was that he didn’t want the feelings of attraction, not that he didn’t want to have sex. Her confidence regained its foothold.
“Max—” He stopped. He leaned over and gave her a last, quick kiss. “Be good.” Then he left before she could say anything in reply.
Chapter Fifteen
Max’s cell phone rang at five thirty in the morning. It was Shelley from D.C.
“You know I’m in California,” Max grumbled as she pulled herself from a deep sleep.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Shelley chirped.
Max groaned.
“Nice way to thank me for working all night for you.”
“Thank you.” Max was still confused, but put it off to being jolted from a hot dream that involved strawberries, chocolate, and Nick Santini.
“You don’t sound excited.”
“You’re excited for the both of us.”
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, stretched, then walked over to her desk and turned on her computer.
“Not excited—just pissed off. I’ve spent all my life working to protect the environment, you know? It’s my calling. So I really hate it when people scam the system. It makes us all look bad, right?”
“Right,” Max agreed, though she was still catching up with Shelley.
“So I called a friend of mine high up in Cal-EPA—someone who knows everything about every environmental group in California. He never heard of DL Environmental. He has access to a database of nonprofits, and DLE is registered, but no sign of that kind of donation history. Have no idea what’s going on with them, but they file a simple tax filing stating that they receive less than $50,000 in donations. Tommy thinks that they’re running a scam—you know, donate to this cause and feel good, but they don’t use any of the money for the cause.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t think so?”
“I think it’s bigger than fraud.”
“How so?”
“They own a half-million-dollar condo in San Mateo and a new car that one of their people is driving. They have a mail drop for a business address.”
“Well, just so you know, they’re not a player at all, never raised a finger or given a dollar to any of the legit causes.”
“Good to know. Can your friend Tommy get their filings? The nonprofit paperwork, and public tax information.”
“Because they’re nonprofit, most of the stuff is available to the public if you know where to look. I can get it for you. Give me an hour and I’ll e-mail what I find.”
“Thanks, Shell.”
“So it helps?”
“Yes.” It confirmed that Max had been thinking, but she still didn’t know where DLE was getting their money. If it was an Internet financial scam, that was under the FBI. “Can you please cross-reference any paperwork with the names John Carlos or J. C. Potrero and Rebecca Cross?”
“Wow, you said please. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word cross your lips.” Shelley laughed heartily.
“You’re not funny.”
“I’ll be in New York for a conference this summer. I expect dinner and a show and lots of drinks.”
“You’re on. E-mail me the dates and I’ll clear my calendar.”
Max hung up and ran through all possible scenarios, but it seemed pretty clear based on the evidence she saw at Dru’s place that she and Jason were friends. Maybe she told Jason what she was doing with DLE, and Jason being a smart guy knew it was illegal. Perhaps he tried to help her, and got a bullet in the head for his effort.
Except, that meant she lied to Max when she said that there were weird things going on at Evergreen the week Jason was killed. That could have been a cover for Dru, feeling guilty and wanting to point a finger at J. C. and his buddy Rebecca Cross? Dru didn’t seem like a killer, but she might have kept quiet about the murder. Yet when both Max and Nick started asking around about Jason’s murder again, she panicked. And would she have really kept quiet, considering her and Jason’s long-term friendship?
Murder over a financial scam? People have been killed for less, but it didn’t feel right to Max. And would Dru have told J. C. that she planned to talk to Max about whatever was going on? Doubtful. Not if she thought J. C. was a killer. Maybe he followed her. Or …
Or someone Dru trusted knew about the arrangement. Like her roommates, Whitney and Amy. If one of them were home when Nick came over, and then Dru bolted, they might have alerted J. C. or Rebecca.
Too many what-ifs and not enough answers. She ordered up coffee from room service because she had a lot of work to do.
A text message from David popped up on her phone: Parker is conscious. Being moved to Room 242.
It was 3:00 A.M. in Hawaii. Did David never sleep? She responded with a smiley face.
Max needed to talk to Dru. She could put all this together if Dru would admit to what was going on with the money and DLE and tell her if Jason had found out about it.