by Lexie Davis
He sighed, pushing those thoughts away. Working relationships that turned to sexual relationships didn’t work. Relationships in general didn’t work.
“If you’d been on the scene when called, you wouldn’t need to read the basic information now, would you?
“Victim is Sophie Stevens, age twenty-five. Blonde hair, blue eyes. No prior record for anything more than looking like a supermodel in this humble town, but then again, no man in this area ever held it against her. She drove her fiancé, Rick Romano’s, car into a tree. A new Jaguar XK with a cut brake line suggesting a planned homicide instead of an accident. That’s all the damn file says so give it to me now.”
He had to give it to her. The lady had a mean bite. “Why don’t you want me to read the case file?”
“Because you’ll screw my order up. You’re already screwing everything up by simply standing here, breathing my oxygen.” She snatched the file from him and slammed it against the hotel room’s desk. “I’m going to the lodge. You can go to hell for all I care.”
Ryder leaned back in the chair, amused. “You’d miss me too much.”
She licked her lips. “I’d miss you like I’d miss the plague.”
“Who are you talking with first?”
“Family. You can have the boyfriend.”
His lips twitched. “You don’t tell me how to do my job, little girl.”
“Fine. I’ll question them by myself. It always takes a woman to do a man’s job anyhow. Why would working with you be any different?”
He stood and met her eyes. “I like your original plan best. You do your thing, I’ll do mine, and we’ll see who ends up on top, ’kay?”
His blood boiled in his veins though it wasn’t for the usual reasons his former partners gave him. No. He liked Blake Warren way too much, and it was a damn shame. Ryder grabbed his coat and headed to the door.
He needed to question the family. If his gut feeling meant anything, stepdaddy had some explaining to do.
* * * *
“You have to go with him, you know that, right?” Betsy, her partner, said on the phone.
Blake pursed her lips. She’d escaped to the bathroom for a private conversation with her real partner and left Mr. High-and-Mighty alone. “If I don’t make it back, you’ll know I killed him and am on my way out of the country to Fiji or Tahiti where it’s nice and hot and the boys are half-naked.”
Betsy snorted. “I didn’t just hear that. But, if you go, promise to take me with you.”
Ryder James. Just thinking the name brought up a mixed array of emotions. He shouldn’t be anything but her partner but moments ago when they fought over the file, she envisioned more.
“He’s impossible.”
“Most men are.”
With Betsy she never had trouble. From the moment they met, they became best friends. They played off each other’s talents. Where Betsy gained confessions from suspects, Blake knew how to look at the big picture and bring justice to order.
She missed her partner, her best friend.
“What should I do?”
“Grin and bear it, sweetie. There’s not much else you can do.” Betsy paused. “At least he’s a hottie. It would really be a pisser if he wasn’t much to look at, considering you have to spend all that time, day and night, alone with him.”
“Are you insinuating I should seduce my partner?”
“Who me? Nah. All I’m saying is, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
After they hung up, Blake grabbed her coat, shoved her arms inside the sleeves and left. She needed to talk with Betsy. Her partner and best friend kept her sane. Ryder wouldn’t screw this up for her. She’d worked her ass off in school and on the force to prove she was just as good as any member of her family. He would not make her look like a fool because of his inflated ego. She wouldn’t allow it.
Just as she suspected, he sat in the parking lot in the navy colored detective-issued Town Car, waiting for it to warm up. Naturally, he decided to drive, she mused. All part of his warped need for control. You can have the drive to the lodge, Ryder James, but I’ll have the drive back.
She reached for the door handle and pulled, finding the door locked. She banged her fist on the window. “Open up.”
The jerk smiled. “Why would I do that?”
“Because I have a gun and a mean sense of humor.”
“I’m not scared of your little gun. You probably can’t hit your target anyway.”
“Open the door, James, before I break out the window.”
He grinned and pressed the door locks. After Blake situated herself inside, she slammed the door and looked over at him. The damn man enjoyed himself.
“I love it when you talk dirty. Turns me on.”
She didn’t even bother with a rebuttal. “Drive the damn car.”
He put the car in reverse and backed up. “Where are we going?”
“Southside.” She shivered and reached out to flip the heat on full blast.
“Cold, Warren?”
“I’m not going to bother answering your ignorant questions.” She propped her elbow against the door and rested her cheek against her fist, her mind focusing on the case.
From the evidence she gathered, the initial target was Sophie’s fiancé, Rick. The brake line had been cut. Blake didn’t know why Sophie drove that car last night and hoped to find out some answers.
The vic had no priors against her. Rick, however, had several. Forging checks and laundering money could land him a few enemies. Sophie came from a rich family. Plenty of suspicion and plenty of motive.
“Who do you think did it?” Ryder’s voice drew her out of her thoughts.
“I don’t know.”
He scoffed as he stopped at a red light. “You’ve got to have some kind of gut feeling. Do you think it the vic’s boyfriend or the girl he banged on the side?”
“What girl he banged on the side? No one mentioned a girlfriend in the file or even rumors of a girlfriend.”
“Oh, come on, Blake.” He turned in his seat to face her. “Every rich man has a bimbo on the side, right? Isn’t that what women like you think? The whole men are pigs scenario.”
“You don’t know anything about me, so I advise you to keep your mouth shut.” She shook her head and glanced out the side window. “The boyfriend has motive, but you know as well as I do, everyone remains innocent until proven guilty.”
Ryder turned back to drive through the green light. “That’s a crock, and you know it. You’re guilty until proven innocent. That’s why we have trials and defense lawyers. Whoever puts up the best case wins.”
She kept her mouth shut, taking in the flakes of snow covering the roads. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating what his words just said. He was a detective. He had to have faith in the system, otherwise what was the point.
“You’ve got a reputation, you know. One I don’t particularly like.”
He snorted and pulled the car into the Snowflake Lodge. “I’m sure there’s plenty going around about me that even my own mother is ashamed of. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“But, isn’t it?” She turned toward him as the car came to a stop. “Weren’t you the reason your partner died? Something about not doing your job. Your ridiculous statement a few seconds ago hinted the system is faulty, that if you know what you’re doing, you can get away with everything. Is that what you did? Is that the reason you don’t work well with others?”
He didn’t look at her. She’d heard from the ever-popular gossip chain that before he joined the Minneapolis Police Department, he and his partner had walked into a sticky situation and he left his partner to deal with the mess, ultimately costing the partner his life. Whether or not it was true, she didn’t know. It didn’t settle her worries though and put her in an uneasy state. She wanted someone on her side, not some hot-headed jerk screwing up her case.
“You don’t know what the hell you are talking about.”
He opened the car door and climbe
d out, slamming it shut behind him. The Town Car rocked with the force, and Blake sighed. A long day didn’t describe what was in store for her.
Blake caught up with him before he entered the building. “Well, surely you can understand after hearing those kinds of rumors, I’d be worried about my safety, right? Partners hold a sense of trust in one another. And I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
“And this is my problem, how?” Ryder stopped and met her eyes. “I told you I’m fine on my own. If you want to sit at a desk and do the paperwork, I’m okay with that. Walk away now.”
“I’m not giving anything up. This is my case.”
“You have no seniority over me. It’s my case, and regardless of your insecurities, you do what I say.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I’ve been called worse.” He started walking again, and Blake reluctantly followed.
Known as a house of fun, The Snowflake Lodge gained a reputation as one of the best places for family vacations. She’d come here a few times with her family and enjoyed her stay. The winter storms covered the shrubs on the outside with snow, and icicles hung from the rooftop. In a way, it looked like someone’s own personal winter wonderland.
Ryder didn’t bother holding the glass door open for her as they stepped in and found the counter clerk. He flashed the young girl his badge and asked for Robert Stevens’s room number. She gave it to him and pointed them toward the massive staircase while she gave directions to find the room.
The luxury ski resort prided itself on design and coordination. Plush leather couches and hardwood floors made a distinctive impression on her when she walked in the door. The resort comforted its guests. Families came from all around to enjoy their winter vacation.
Ryder ascended the stairs, stomping up each one with Blake lugging behind. Her eyes drifted to his toned back, narrow waist, and tight butt. She caught herself staring a bit longer than she should have and mentally scolded herself. She could not think of Ryder James that way.
He found the room and rapped his knuckles on the door. “Mr. and Mrs. Stevens, it’s Detectives James and Warren. Can you please open the door?”
Blake leaned against the wall, waiting. Footsteps inside the room sounded before the click of the lock. The door opened. Robert Stevens, a high-class man, distinguished himself with expensive suits and manicured look. Standing before the detectives, he looked like an average man, completely grief stricken with the loss of his daughter. Red-rimmed eyes stared at them with annoyance and anger as he greeted them, stepping out into the hallway.
“I’d prefer you leave my wife out of this. She’s sedated and having a hard enough time over Sophie’s death. I don’t need you badgering her.” He crossed his arms.
He wore a white T-shirt and baggy sweatpants. Blake studied the college emblem on the front noting the wear. Robert Stevens was an Ohio State fan.
“Tell us about last night.” Ryder flipped open his notepad and waited with a pen in hand.
“We had our annual Christmas party last night. All the employees at Stevens Enterprises attended along with Sophie and Rick. Rick is her fiancé. He works for the company as head of the development department. He and Sophie planned on getting married January first.” He paused, lost in thought for a moment, before he pulled himself back into the conversation. “From what I saw, she’d had a good time. She danced a bit and smiled often, the same way Sophie always does. She was a happy girl—woman. I overheard my assistant say something about Rick making her mad. They argued in the back hallway, and I confronted her about it. She just told me not to worry.”
Ryder took some notes. “Do you know what they argued about?”
“No.”
“Did you see Sophie leave the premises?”
The older man shook his head. “No. She told me goodbye on her way out. She wanted to go home. I told her not to worry about anything. My wife and I gave her a Christmas present, and she left.”
“What kind of present did you get her?”
“A check for twenty-five thousand dollars. I agreed to pay the down payment for the house she and Rick wanted to buy.”
Blake noted that Richard’s expression changed every time he said Sophie’s fiancé’s name. She drove Rick’s car and had a twenty-five thousand dollar check. They didn’t find a check in Sophie’s possession when they searched the car. “Sir, excuse my bluntness, but did you and her fiancé get along?”
Richard glanced down. “Sure. His father is a good friend of mine.”
Ryder looked up from his notes. “If you don’t mind, I’d like you to list the people you sat with and talked to that night. Anyone you can think of that came in contact with your daughter.”
Robert nodded. “Sure.” He rattled off names.
“Is there anyone you can think of that could have possibly wanted Sophie dead?”
“Everyone loved Sophie. This…this was an unfortunate accident.”
Ryder thanked him for his time and gave him his business card. Something about Mr. Stevens didn’t add up. They watched Robert enter his suite and turned toward the elevators.
“Stop jumping the gun, Warren,” Ryder said.
“What are you talking about?”
“Your expression is that of a kid in a candy store, or of one that solved a murder case. This is our first interrogation. You couldn’t possibly have solved the case by what the stepfather said.”
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” With the fiancé, they had the first stepping stones of the case. His car, and now motive. Money. “Where was that check when we swept the car?”
“Well, if I read the case file, maybe I could answer that, huh?”
Ryder went to the counter and asked the desk clerk for room numbers of the people Robert listed at his table. “Also, is Rick Romano staying here as well?”
The lady typed in his name. “Room 216.”
He thanked her and ascended the stairs, leaving Blake to tag along behind him. They approached the suite, and Ryder poised his hand inches from the door, stopping when noises sounded on the other side. He pressed his ear against the door as a woman’s moans continued from inside the suite. Ryder arched an eyebrow.
“There’s only one technique that can cause a woman to vocalize like that.”
“And I’m sure you’ve mastered it, huh?”
Ryder met her eyes with a wide grin. “I’ve had no complaints.”
Blake rapped her knuckles against the wood and thankfully the moans quieted, eventually ceasing. She heard feet pattering against the floor before the click of the lock slid back and a handsome man answered the door wearing a loosely tied robe.
“What do you want?”
Blake held up her badge. “Detectives Warren and James. We’d like to ask you a few questions, sir, about your fiancée’s death.”
To her surprise, he looked genuinely shocked. “Sophie’s dead?” Blake nodded. “But she…how?”
“Hit a tree on 169 in your car.”
His mouth opened slightly before he said, “Come in, detectives.”
Blake followed Ryder into the foyer and allowed Rick Romano to lead them into the sitting area. The Snowflake Lodge spared no expense when it came to luxury for its guests. He motioned for them to have a seat on the plush couch and offered them both a drink. They declined. Blake watched him walk to the wet bar and pour himself a glass of brandy, she assumed, and down it within seconds. She didn’t even want to think of the time.
“Sophie hit a tree,” Rick repeated what they told him. “And you’re here because she had my car, right?”
Blake nodded. “Why don’t you tell us what went on last night at Robert Stevens’ Christmas party?”
Rick took a seat opposite them, glass in hand. “It was a typical Stevens party, full of executives from work. Sophie really didn’t want to go, complaining of a headache. I knew Robert intended to give us the check for the down payment that night and she had to be there if we expected to get the money. The stupid bastard hat
es me and sure as hell wouldn’t give me any of his money willingly. He hated our relationship and tried several times to get her to leave me. She wouldn’t.”
He stared at his glass. “We needed that money for the down payment for our house, and Sophie agreed to go. We danced and mingled a bit, sharing dinner and good conversation with our friends. Then she wanted to go home. She called for the valet, and he brought around my car by mistake. I tried to stop her from driving it. The roads were slick, and she wanted to go back to Minneapolis. I knew that my Jag didn’t do well in the snow, but we had an argument and she climbed behind the wheel and left.”
Blake stared at him. “What did you argue about?”
“Rick? Did you get rid of your little bitch?” Blake averted her eyes to the hallway to see a woman standing there with nothing but a Santa hat on.
“Not now, Amanda.” He jerked his head to the side. “Go put some clothes on.”
She disappeared, and Blake arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain. When he didn’t, Ryder asked, “Who is Amanda?”
Rick’s face reddened. “A friend.”
“What’s her last name?”
“Cummings.”
Ryder wrote that down. “Do most of your female friends run around your suite naked, wearing Santa hats?”
Rick tipped the glass to his lips. “She’s my mistress.”
Ryder’s jaw tensed. “Was she at the party last night?”
“Yes. She works at Stevens Enterprises.” Rick blew out a breath. “Look, Sophie knew about her. We’d had an ongoing affair since college. When she landed a job at Stevens Enterprises, she stirred up a little trouble with Sophie, but nothing major. Just catfights over me, you know.”
“Why didn’t you put a stop to it?” Blake asked.
“I don’t know. I guess I liked the attention too much. One would try to outdo the other, and I’d end up having some of the best sex of my life. I couldn’t really say no to that.”
