“Did she leave with anyone?”
Tiffany gave her a reproachful look. “Clare wasn’t the type to pick up strange men in clubs. We went there to party and dance and have a good time, but that was the extent of it.”
“Would she have given her phone number to someone she met there?”
“No, never. Clare was very cautious about that sort of thing…” Tiffany seemed to catch herself. “At least, I thought she was.” Her gaze moved back to Janet Stryker. “Speaking of picking up guys,” she murmured. “I wonder who he is.”
“He who?”
“That man with Janet Stryker.” Tiffany gave him a quick assessment. “Not bad, but he looks a little intense for my taste.”
Pru turned again. Janet Stryker had been alone earlier, but now a man was seated across the table from her. When Pru saw who he was, her heart nearly catapulted out of her chest.
The man with Janet Stryker was John Cahill.
A LITTLE WHILE LATER, Pru hurried across the darkened parking lot to her car. She’d been so taken aback by seeing Cahill with Janet Stryker that she’d barely said goodbye when Tiffany got up to leave. Pru had insisted on picking up the tab since the meeting had been her idea, but she’d hung around only long enough to hastily scrawl her name across the credit card receipt before bolting for the door.
She had no idea why she was upset, or why she’d been so hell-bent on getting out of that place before Cahill spotted her. Why hadn’t she just gone over to say hello? What would have been the harm in that?
Instead, she’d behaved like a schoolgirl with her first serious crush.
Pru berated herself all the way to her car. How was she going to forge a working relationship with Cahill if she kept acting like such an idiot?
She was way too old for this kind of behavior. If she wasn’t careful, he would pick up on her feelings for him, and then she’d be forced to transfer out of SKURRT. Pru’s career, along with her pride, would be left in tatters.
Her father was right. She had to find a way to get Cahill out of her system, but at the moment, she didn’t have a clue how to do that.
What on earth did he see in Janet Stryker anyway? Okay, so she was attractive and sexy. But she was also an arrogant, manipulative bi—
Careful, Pru cautioned herself. She was fast losing her objectivity here, and if there was anything she’d always prided herself on, it was her professional detachment from her cases.
She would approach Janet Stryker just as she would any other suspect, even if it killed her.
Wait a minute.
Pru slowed her steps. Since when had she started thinking of Janet Stryker as a suspect? When she’d learned Stryker had once been Danny Costello’s partner? Or when she’d seen her with John Cahill?
Pru thought about the club Tiffany had mentioned earlier. Could that be yet another lead? Another connection to Janet Stryker?
Pru was almost to her car when she became aware of footsteps behind her. Someone was following her.
Her pulse quickened as she pretended to reach for her keys in her shoulder bag. She gripped the handle of her gun, and when the footsteps closed in on her, she spun.
The sight of her weapon caught her would-be assailant completely by surprise, and he stumbled backward. Raising his hands over his head, he stuttered in alarm, “Whoa…d-don’t shoot or anything. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Pru recognized him at once. He was the man who had been checking her out at the end of the bar. “Why are you following me?” she demanded.
He still had his hands in the air, but now that she had a closer look at him, he didn’t seem all that frightened. Quite the opposite, in fact. His expression mocked her. “I want to talk to you,” he said.
“About what?”
His voice lowered conspiratorially. “I know who you are, Agent Dunlop.”
Pru’s hand tightened on her weapon. “You have me at a disadvantage,” she said with a frown. “Who the hell are you?”
“Danny Costello.”
The name shot through her with the punch of a bullet, but she tried not to show her alarm. “Let’s see some ID.”
He lowered his hands and lazily reached for his wallet. Flipping it open, he handed it to her.
He had a Texas driver’s license along with his P.I. license. Pru closed the wallet and tossed it back to him. “You said you wanted to talk. I’m listening.”
“Actually…” His dark head was slightly bent, and the way he gazed up at her made her blood run cold. He’d seemed like an ordinary guy in the bar, but now, alone with him in the dark, Pru thought he looked sinister. “I hear you want to talk to me.”
She kept her voice even. “Who told you that, Mr. Costello?”
“Danny.” He sounded menacing even when he smiled. “You haven’t exactly been subtle, Agent Dunlop. You were the one who gave my name to the police as a possible suspect in the Clare McDonald murder case. Of course, you had no idea then that you’d be the one who could also give me an alibi, did you?”
“What are you talking about?”
His expression altered subtly. “I was here the night Clare McDonald was murdered. You saw me.”
“That was early in the evening,” Pru said, trying to ignore the shivers racing up and down her back. “I have no idea what you did after you left here. And come to think of it,” she said slowly, her finger still on the trigger, “why were you here that night?”
“I followed your friend,” he said candidly. “The blonde. Tiffany Beaumont. I had a few more questions I needed to ask her.”
“About Clare?”
He shrugged.
“You were wasting your time,” Pru said. “Tiffany was on to you. That’s why she wanted me to meet her here. She already knew that you weren’t who you said you were.”
“I screwed up,” he said with another shrug. “So sue me.”
Pru wasn’t fooled by his flip tone. He wanted something. “So how did you happen to pick Todd Hollister’s name, anyway? What did you do? Go through Clare’s yearbook?”
“As a matter of fact, I did. I’d like to say your senior picture doesn’t do you justice, Agent Dunlop, but you were quite a looker back then. You still would be if you weren’t trying so hard not to be.”
“Whether you find me attractive or not is immaterial,” she said.
“Really? That’s not the message you sent in the bar.” His tone continued to mock her.
Pru decided not to rise to his bait. “Who else besides Tiffany did you contact about Clare?”
“Her neighbors, business associates, old high school classmates. That’s what we do at Tripp Investigations.”
“I know all about what you do,” Pru said coolly. “Who hired you to follow Clare? Who saw her as the woman of his dreams?”
“My, my, you’ve been a busy girl,” he said with that same sinister smile.
“Who’s your client, Mr. Costello?”
“I can’t tell you that. I signed a confidentiality agreement not to divulge the identity of any of our clients.”
“We could subpoena your records,” Pru threatened.
He laughed. “Go right ahead. It’s not my company, so why should I care? But you know as well as I do that by the time you find a judge willing to sign the order, you could have another dead woman on your hands.”
It was all Pru could do not to react. “You sound as if you know something about this case.”
“I know what you’re dealing with,” he said.
“And just what are we dealing with, Mr. Costello?”
“Let’s start with what you’re not dealing with.” He moved toward her in the darkness. Pru had to fight the urge to back away from him. “You’ve got it all wrong, Agent Dunlop. I didn’t have anything to do with any of those murders.”
She lifted a brow. “And I’m supposed to take your word for that?”
“Like I said, if you want to waste time pursuing a dead-end lead, you could wind up with another body on your hands.”
<
br /> “Mr. Costello, if you know something about these murders—”
“I saw the killer, Agent Dunlop.”
Pru caught her breath. “Where?”
“I had Clare McDonald under surveillance, remember? I saw her with the killer.”
“Then why haven’t you gone to the police?” Pru demanded.
“Because, thanks to you, the police seem a little too interested in my whereabouts that night, and I have no intention of becoming a patsy for HPD Homicide. So in my own self-interest, I’ve decided to lay low for a while. You should be flattered,” he murmured. “The only thing that drew me out of hiding was the prospect of talking to you.”
Pru wasn’t flattered. She was still scared to death and not at all convinced that the man wasn’t trying to cover his own ass. “You said you saw the killer with Clare. Who is he?”
“I can’t give you a name.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He shrugged.
“What about a description?”
“Sorry.”
“Mr. Costello—”
He moved very quickly and before Pru could stop him, he was standing so near she could feel his breath on her face as he wove his fingers through her hair. She still had her weapon drawn, but it didn’t seem to faze him.
“Stand back,” she ordered.
His fingers tightened in her hair as he lowered his voice. “Do you want to find the killer, Agent Dunlop?”
She lifted her chin and gazed into his eyes. They were very dark. Almost as dark as Cahill’s. Slowly she nodded.
He put his lips very close to her ear. “Then stop thinking like a profiler and start acting like a cop. Stop trying to analyze the killer. You’ll only end up running in circles. Go back to the basics. Look for means, motive and opportunity.”
“The motive of a serial killer is not always determinable.”
“There you go again.” His tone castigated her. “Still thinking like a profiler. Who said anything about a serial killer?”
“The MO, the staging of the crime scene, the posing of the bodies…they’re identical in all three cases. That can’t be a coincidence.”
“I never said it was.” Releasing her, he moved back a step or two. Pru hadn’t even realized she’d been holding her breath until it came out in a rush.
“Ask yourself one question, Agent Dunlop. Who would benefit from these deaths?”
“Benefit?” She stared at him in confusion. “That would imply a connection between the victims. There isn’t one.”
“You just haven’t found it yet. Start with the places where their paths would most likely have crossed. They lived in the same neighborhood, so check the grocery stores, beauty salons…a local nightclub.”
Pru’s tone sharpened. “A nightclub?”
He said nothing.
“You know more than you’re telling me,” she accused.
“You’re a smart agent. You’ll figure it out. A case like this could make or break an ambitious woman’s career,” he said softly. “But I’m sure that’s already occurred to you, hasn’t it?”
His words reminded her of something Cahill had said to her the day he’d approved her transfer when she’d wondered why Janet Stryker had been so uncooperative.
Put yourself in her place. She’s an ambitious detective who’s just caught a big case. It wouldn’t do her career any good to have the FBI come in and steal her thunder.
And then earlier, in Cahill’s office, Tim Sessions had told them what he’d dug up on Costello. He’d been a hotshot cop until he’d become embroiled with Janet Stryker. She’d used him, then hung him out to dry when he no longer suited her purposes.
“Why are you telling me all this?” she asked Costello. “Why are you willing to help me?”
“Because someone’s going to break this case wide open, and I’d like it to be you.”
“Why?”
“There’s an old saying, Agent Dunlop. Payback’s hell.”
Then he turned and walked off without another word.
“AGENT DUNLOP? Are you okay?”
At the sound of Cahill’s voice, Pru spun. She’d been so engrossed in rehashing her conversation with Costello that she hadn’t heard him approach.
But now that she knew he was so near, her heart started to pound. She couldn’t help herself. He always had that effect on her.
Plus, she was still unnerved by her confrontation with Danny Costello. She hadn’t put away her weapon until he was out of sight, and only then had she realized how badly her hands were trembling.
She was still trembling, and she hoped Cahill wouldn’t notice.
She gazed at him in the darkness. Even though she couldn’t see his face clearly, she knew that his expression would be serious. Intense. She wondered suddenly how all that intensity would play out in the bedroom.
“Agent Dunlop?”
“I’m, uh, okay,” she stuttered. “I just had a run-in with Danny Costello.”
“Costello?” Cahill took a step toward her as his gazed searched the parking lot. “What did he want?”
“He said he wanted to talk to me.”
“About what?”
Pru drew a breath, trying to steady her nerves. “He somehow found out that I’m the one who gave his name to the police. He wanted me to know that I’m chasing a dead-end lead.”
“He would say that, wouldn’t he?” Cahill’s attention came back to her. “You look a little shaky. He didn’t threaten you, did he?”
“No, he didn’t threaten me.” Far from offending her, the protective note in Cahill’s voice sent a thrill of awareness coursing through Pru. She could take care of herself, but it never hurt to have someone watching your back. Especially when that someone was John Cahill.
“What else did he say?”
“He—” She broke off. Costello hadn’t really said anything specific, but Pru had gotten the distinct impression that he’d been trying to send her a message. And that message somehow involved Janet Stryker.
Considering Cahill’s defense of the detective earlier and now his appearance with her tonight, Pru wasn’t at all certain she wanted to even bring up Stryker’s name. Besides, she needed time to digest the implications of her conversation with Costello. It was possible she’d read him entirely wrong. Then again, maybe she hadn’t.
“We can discuss it tomorrow at the office,” she said. “Right now, I should probably let you get back inside.”
“I was just leaving.”
Alone? she wondered. Or was Janet Stryker waiting for him in the car? The notion made Pru slightly nauseous. “Then don’t let me keep you.”
He looked at her strangely, as if detecting a note in her voice that shouldn’t have been there. “I was going to grab something to eat before heading home,” he said. “Have you had dinner?”
The question caught Pru so off guard, it took her a moment to answer. “Uh, no.”
“Are you hungry?”
She hadn’t been until that very moment, but now she found that she was ravenous. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
He tilted his head, gazing down at her. “You like omelets?”
“Sure…who doesn’t?”
“Then follow me, Agent. I know a place that makes the best western omelets you’ve ever tasted.”
His sudden smile stunned Pru. Knocked her socks off. Made him look ten years younger and a million times sexier, and that was saying something.
Pru had a feeling that another smile like that, and she just might be willing to follow him anywhere.
Chapter Ten
Half an hour later, Pru found herself seated at the bar in Cahill’s apartment, watching him chop and sauté vegetables, heat the omelet pan and make fresh salsa in the blender. For someone who had only been a bachelor for little more than a year, he certainly seemed to know his way around the kitchen.
Pru could hardly believe that she was actually sitting in the man’s apartment while he prepared dinner for her. Two days ago, he hadn’t eve
n recognized her in the elevator. At least, that was the impression he’d given. And now here she was. Here he was.
Her sudden reversal of fortune was nothing short of amazing, Pru decided. If someone had told her five years ago that she would someday be working with the great John Cahill, she would never have believed him.
But they were not only working together, they were about to enjoy dinner together…just the two of them…alone in Cahill’s apartment.
She tried not to stare as he moved about the kitchen, but it was difficult not to. He’d taken off his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves. His collar was unbuttoned, and Pru could see just enough tanned flesh to remind her of all that glistening skin she’d witnessed at the gym. The man was pushing forty, but aside from the lines around his mouth and eyes, he didn’t look it. He was in fantastic shape.
But his body was just one of many things that Pru found so attractive. Everything about him fascinated her. Who he was and what he’d accomplished. He was John Cahill, for Pete’s sake. Pru had never met anyone half as interesting, and as she covertly studied him—his head bent to his work—she felt the pull she’d being trying so hard to resist for the last two days slowly fight its way to the surface.
She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. To be kissed by him. He had a wonderful mouth. Sexy and sensuous, with just a hint of the cynic in his smile.
He was a serious man in a serious profession, and if he brought even half as much passion to the bedroom as he did to his cases, Pru could only imagine how shattering his lovemaking would be.
But it would probably be better for her if she didn’t try to imagine.
He looked up at that moment, caught her gaze, and smiled.
And Pru melted.
Crush…infatuation…call it what you liked, she wanted John Cahill as she’d never wanted any man in her life. He was not someone she would easily get out of her system.
Like a master chef, he flipped the omelets onto heated plates, then brought them over to the bar, along with fresh salsa and steaming cups of coffee.
Pru spooned the salsa onto her omelet as Cahill came around the counter and sat down beside her. “Careful,” he warned. “That stuff has a kick.”
“I’m a native Texan, so I’m not too worried,” she assured him. “Jalapeño peppers are my favorite vegetable.”
Matters of Seduction Page 12
