Clenching her teeth tightly, emotions raw and tears near the surface, Lausanne reminded herself that crying was useless, that allowing her emotions to rule her always turned out to be a disastrous choice.
She swallowed hard. “Lieutenant Desmond hammered away at me for two hours, asking me the same questions over and over again. About Audrey Perkins, about Bobby Jack Cash and about why I didn’t just come clean and tell him the truth.”
“It’s his job to get to the truth. And it was Mr. Oliver’s job to—”
“Oh, you got your money’s worth there. Mr. Oliver did his job.”
“I plan to keep him on retainer. Just in case.”
“Do whatever you like.” Lausanne walked away from Dom.
He caught up with her just as she entered the kitchenette, pausing on the opposite side of the vinyl-topped bar. “I know that you ran away from home at sixteen and I know about the baby you gave up for adoption when you were seventeen.”
“So?”
“So, I realize you haven’t had it easy, that there are probably reasons why you—”
“Why I killed Audrey Perkins!”
“No, that’s not what I was going to say. I was going to say that there are probably reasons why you’ve got such a big chip on your shoulder.”
She emitted a chuckling huff.
“Look, honey, I want to believe you. I want to help you. But you’re not making it easy for me.”
“Why? What difference does it make to you?”
“Damn if I can explain it,” he told her. “Let’s just say that you got under my skin and leave it at that.”
Sweet talker. Charmer. He knew what to say and just how to say it. If she hadn’t been burned so badly before, hadn’t found out just what sneaky, lying bastards men could be, she just might fall for his line of bull. The old, naive Lausanne would have. The smart, cynical Lausanne wouldn’t.
“You’re still working for the Bedell family, aren’t you? Your loyalty belongs to them. They’ve bought and paid for you. How will they feel if they find out you hired a lawyer for me?”
“Yeah, I’m still working for the Bedells. And my loyalty is to the truth, to locating Audrey Bedell. Finding her is what her family wants and it’s what you want, too, isn’t it? There’s no conflict of interests, as long as you’re not lying to me.”
“What will it take for you to believe me? I could take a lie detector test or sign an oath in blood or maybe I could just screw you. That is what you want, isn’t it? You’ve got this pesky little itch for me that won’t go away until I scratch it.”
Dom shook his head sadly. “Who hurt you so badly that you think all a guy could possibly want from you is sex?”
Her heartbeat pulsed loudly in her ears. She hated the way he was looking at her, with such tender concern, such genuine sympathy.
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me!” She rounded the corner of the bar separating them and came at him, her hands knotted into rigid little fists.
“Why shouldn’t I feel sorry for you? You’ve had a really shitty life, gotten a lot of tough breaks. Why does it bother you so much that I care, that I wish I could make things better for you?”
She stopped dead still less than a foot from him, lowered her fists and snarled at him. “Who asked you to care? Who needs you?”
“You do, Lausanne. You need me.”
Don’t you dare let him see any weakness. If you do, he’ll take advantage of you.
Her throat was tight and dry, her eyes blinking to hold back unwanted tears. “Let’s get something straight—I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody. I take care of myself.”
“What are you so afraid of?” he asked, a tone of pity in his voice.
I’m afraid I’ll fall for you, that I’ll believe all your sweet lies and that you’ll hurt me. You’ll get what you want and then you’ll leave me and I’ll be all alone again. Alone and in trouble.
“Who said I was afraid?”
“Aren’t you?” He took a tentative step toward her.
She drew in a deep breath. “If I agree to keep Mr. Oliver as my lawyer, will you go away and leave me alone?”
He smiled. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you? Afraid that if you let me get too close—”
She shoved against his chest. “Get out of here. Go!”
Dom grabbed her hands and held them over his heart. Every nerve in her body came to full alert. He yanked her forward so that she fell into him, her breasts to his lower chest, her head at his shoulder. Realizing what he intended to do and helpless to stop him because she wanted it as much as he did, Lausanne lifted her face and looked up at Dom.
He lowered his head and took her mouth in a gentle yet all-consuming kiss. She shivered. A tingling sensation ignited in her feminine center and spread through her body. He deepened the kiss as he pressed her closer, one hand on the small of her back and the other cupping her hip.
Every feminine instinct within her yearned for him, wanted to be with him, to give herself to him and find physical release.
Just when she was on the verge of crumbling, of giving in to her basic needs, Dom lifted his head and stared into her eyes.
“I want you,” he said. “And you want me.” When she opened her mouth to respond, he tapped his right index finger over her lips. “Shh…”
“But Dom,” she mumbled.
He lifted his finger from her lips. “I want us to have sex. I’m only human. But I need to prove to you that I want to help you because you deserve a break, because I think there’s a good chance you’ve been telling me the truth. I need to become your friend before I become your lover.”
Lausanne stared at him as he released his firm hold on her. What sort of game was he playing? Or was he being honest with her? Did he really want to be her friend?
“I need a friend,” she said.
Dom grinned. “How about giving me a chance to prove myself to you, to prove that I can be a good friend?”
“I guess maybe I can do that—give you a chance.” She gazed at him hopefully. “And you can do something for me, if you want us to be friends.”
“What’s that?”
“Try just a little harder to believe I’ve told you the truth.”
And I have told you the truth, just not the complete truth.
CHAPTER TEN
DOM SMILED AT LAUSANNE when she set a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns in front of him. “Looks good,” he said.
“I don’t cook it, I just deliver it,” she told him, a hint of a smile on her lips.
For the past five days, she’d been working at the Chicken Coop, a fast-food restaurant that specialized in chicken, fixed any way you wanted it, and eggs, which made the place a favorite of people who wanted an inexpensive breakfast. And for the past five days, Dom had been eating at least one meal a day here. They weren’t dating, weren’t seeing each other at all unless you counted the fact he made sure she was his waitress when he ate here. He’d called her a few times but had found out she wasn’t much of a conversationalist, that she mostly responded when he talked.
She hadn’t given him any real encouragement, so he kept asking himself why he couldn’t stay away from her. Sexual attraction was definitely a part of it, but there was more. And it was that “more” that bothered Dom. On an instinctive level, he sensed that Lausanne needed him and not just because she was still “a person of interest” in Audrey Perkins’s disappearance. All these years, after countless women coming and going in Dom’s life, he realized that Lausanne Raney was different. She was the first who brought out both his protective and his possessive instincts.
“Need more coffee?” she asked.
He glanced down at his almost empty mug. “Yeah, I sure do.”
When she walked away, heading for the row of coffeemakers behind the counter, he watched her, appreciating the view. Her movements had a naturally feminine sway to them, her hips and legs working together in a seductive manner that proclaimed her all woman. Glancing a
round at the other customers, Dom noted that he wasn’t the only man who’d been watching Lausanne. Even in her uniform of brown slacks and a yellow and brown striped shirt, she didn’t look like the other waitresses. She was the type of woman who stood out in a crowd. Part of her uniqueness was that mane of curly, reddish-blonde hair, even when it was secured in a ponytail the way it was today. And part was her build, small-boned, slender yet nicely rounded. And then there was her face—the face that haunted his dreams.
“Pretty little thing, ain’t she, son?” A white-haired guy in a plaid shirt and overalls, who sat in the booth across from Dom, grinned good-naturedly at him. The guy had to be at least seventy, if he was a day.
“Yes, sir, she certainly is.”
“If I was thirty years younger and not married, I’d ask her out,” the old man said. “So, what’s keeping you from asking her?”
He couldn’t begin to explain to a stranger how complicated the situation was.
“You’d better make your move, son, before somebody else does. A pretty little peach like that won’t stay on the tree very long before being picked.” The man chuckled softly. “My Ernestine was a looker in her day. Had a swarm of boys buzzing around her, but I just cut me a path through all that buzzing and stole her away from the rest of ’em. We’ve been happily married for fifty-two years.”
As if on cue, a plump, gray-haired woman, in dark slacks and a hip-length beige sweater, walked down the aisle separating the booths and scooted in on the opposite side of the old man. She was round-faced and rosy cheeked; and Dom could see the beauty in her wrinkled face.
“Sorry it took me so long in the ladies’ room, sugar pie,” the lady said in a voice as soft and sweet as any twenty-year-old’s. “But there were four ahead of me.”
Her husband reached across the table and gave her hand a loving squeeze, then cocked his head to one side and winked at Dom.
If Dom’s mother had lived, that’s the way his parents would be now—an older couple still in love, still enjoying each other’s company. And that’s what Dom wanted when he settled down and married.
Lausanne came over to his table, the glass coffeepot in her hand. “This is fresh.”
Dom held up his mug for her to fill it, which she did. Just as she turned to leave, he called to her. “Lausanne?”
“Yes? Is there something else you want?”
“What time do you get off work today?” he asked.
“I get off at five, why?”
“How about I pick you up, we grab a bite to eat and I take you home?”
After studying him for a full minute, she said, “Okay.” Then she leaned down and spoke quietly, for his ears only. “But I’ll get us something from here. I’d rather not go out. If we go somewhere for dinner, it’ll seem more like a date. If I grab us a bite here and we eat at my apartment, then it’ll just be two friends sharing a meal.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
When she sashayed away, the old man caught Dom’s eye. He gave Dom a thumbs-up sign. Dom simply nodded.
If only his relationship with Lausanne was as simple as a guy asking a girl for a date. Yeah, if only…With a girl like Lausanne there wasn’t much chance for a future. She was nothing like his mother. Nothing like this lady sitting across from him, with her husband of fifty-two years. Lausanne was a wild card. A man couldn’t be sure what he’d get with her. Heaven or hell? Maybe a little bit of both.
Dom’s cell phone vibrated against his side. He snapped it off his belt. Immediately recognizing the number, he flipped open the phone and said, “Shea here.”
“Dom, it’s Bain Desmond.”
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“I’m on my way to Edward Bedell’s office with some unpleasant news. I thought you might want to be there since you’re the PI on Mr. Bedell’s payroll.”
Unpleasant news? Had the police discovered Audrey Perkins? Was the lady dead?
“Want to fill me in?” Dom asked.
“Some fishermen dragged a body out of the Tennessee River a couple of days ago. The guy had several bullet holes in him, so we knew we had a homicide case on our hands.”
“And this is news Mr. Bedell needs to know because—?”
“The body’s been identified.”
“By whom?”
“I played a hunch,” Desmond said. “I had a check run on Bobby Jack Cash. Things like dental work, blood type, fingerprints and—”
“Bobby Jack Cash was murdered?” Dom inhaled sharply.
“Yep. Shot five times. Whoever killed him wanted to make sure he was dead.”
“It would take someone fairly strong to dump a man’s body in the river,” Dom said. “A small woman probably couldn’t manage it.”
“Nobody’s accusing Ms. Raney. Not yet.”
“She’s not physically strong enough to have—”
“He could have been shot near the river, then just rolled into the water.”
Dom didn’t like that line of thinking. But damn it, Desmond was right.
“Has there been a preliminary autopsy?” Dom asked.
“Yes. And I’ll be filling Mr. Bedell in on the particulars.”
“So, if I want to know those particulars, I’d better get myself down to Bedell, Inc. in a hurry, right?”
“Right,” Desmond said. “See you there.”
Dom cursed under his breath.
“Something wrong?” Lausanne asked as she laid his bill on the table. She eyed the cell phone he still held in his hand. “Bad news?”
“Just business.” There was no point in ruining her day, no need for her to start worrying. Not yet. Once he had all the facts, he’d tell her. Tonight. He clipped the phone to his belt, then pulled out his wallet and left her a generous tip before reaching for his bill. “I’ll pick you up at five.”
“Have a good day,” she called after him as he headed toward the cashier.
“Yeah, you, too, honey.”
BEDELL, INC. HEADQUARTERS was located in downtown Chattanooga, where it had been for over a century, housed in an older building now renovated and expanded by tearing down the adjacent buildings and constructing new ones. Dom drove his rental car into the underground parking deck. Lt. Desmond was there waiting for him.
“I thought we’d go up together,” Desmond said. “I’m not sure how Mr. Bedell is going to take this news. If Audrey Perkins ran away with Cash and now he’s dead, then the odds are, if she didn’t kill him, she’s dead, too.”
No point beating around the bush. “Is Lausanne Raney your number one suspect?” Dom asked.
“She heads the list, along with a couple of others. It was obvious that Edward Bedell and Grayson Perkins hated Bobby Jack.”
“I suppose the question is did either Bedell or Perkins hate Bobby Jack enough to kill him.”
“Perkins knew his wife was in love with Cash,” Desmond said. “In my book, that makes him head the list of suspects.”
“Right. And Bedell hated Cash because he didn’t think Cash was good enough for his daughter.”
“That would be one motive for Mr. Bedell to kill Cash.”
One motive for murder? And the other would be? Apparently the Chattanooga PD had investigated the tip that Dom had shared with Desmond at the fast-food restaurant. “You know more than you’re letting on, don’t you?” Dom asked.
“Know what?” Desmond played it cool.
“The dirt on Cash and Mrs. Bedell.”
“If you’re talking about the fact that Patrice Bedell and Bobby Jack were once involved, then yes, we have confirmation.”
“Look, no big surprise there,” Dom said.
“Then how come you didn’t share your suspicions with your client?”
“We figured that unless it had some bearing on Audrey Perkins’s disappearance, which we didn’t know if it did or not, then why tell the guy his wife and Cash were old lovers? That would be like pouring salt into an open wound.”
Desmond indica
ted that they should head for the elevators. Dom fell into step alongside him.
“I’m afraid Cash’s body being discovered changes things. It adds more elements into the mix.” When they reached the elevators, Desmond punched the up button.
“More suspects?”
Desmond nodded. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? You don’t want to believe that Lausanne Raney is responsible for Audrey Perkins’s disappearance. Now, she’s not our only suspect.”
“It’s highly improbable that Lausanne killed Bobby Jack,” Dom said.
“Hmm…She could have lured him to the river, killed him and managed to get his body into the water. Or she could have had an accomplice.”
“An accomplice? Who?” He hated the very idea. If there was any possibility that Lausanne was playing him for a fool, he needed to know now.
“It’s just a theory,” Desmond told him. “So far, our investigation into Lausanne Raney doesn’t indicate that she had a relationship with anyone. No friends. No boyfriend. She dated Cash months ago and a couple of other guys, but none of them more than two or three times. Does that match Dundee’s investigation of her?”
“Pretty much.”
“Look, the bottom line here is that I can’t afford to rule out anybody.”
“My money’s on the husband,” Dom said.
“Which husband?”
“Audrey’s husband, Grayson Perkins.”
The light over the elevator indicated it was preparing to stop at their level. A distinct ding sounded when the door opened. Dom stepped back, allowing Desmond to enter first; and by the time he got on, the detective had already hit the button for the top floor.
EDWARD BEDELL’S OFFICE screamed money. Sleek and modern, with lots of glass and metal and artwork that looked like hen-scratch to Dom, which meant the paintings had probably cost an arm and a leg. The only color in the gray, black and white room was the vibrant hues in the paintings.
Edward wasn’t alone. His son-in-law, Grayson Perkins, stood alongside him. Both men wore somber, serious expressions. Edward came forward and extended his hand, greeting them with a cordial if restrained welcome.
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