She had no idea why she felt this sudden protectiveness going into high gear within her, but there it was.
“Muldare’s not slacking off. He’s taking care of a personal matter,” she informed Del Campo.
Or at least she hoped that was what Jackson was doing, Brianna thought. She’d certainly told him to call his brother enough times yesterday. Maybe he had, and that had led to some sort of an emergency or crisis that he had to take care of.
Francisco seemed really amused as he regarded her. “My, getting kind of defensive on his behalf, aren’t you, Bri?” he asked.
“I’m not being defensive,” she informed Francisco crisply. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea about Muldare, so I’m filling you in.” It was time to redirect Del Campo’s attention back to the case, otherwise he was liable to go on about Muldare indefinitely. “In the meantime, you want to take some of the people on this list and see if they have anything enlightening about the hotel to offer?”
Taking the new list Brianna had printed up just before he’d come in, Francisco looked over the names and the current information beneath each one. Scanning it, he nodded.
“I’ve always been partial to the beginning of the alphabet,” Del Campo said with a touch of sarcasm, “so I’ll take this bunch and pay them a visit.”
“Why don’t you take Johansson with you?” she suggested. When she saw the quizzical look entering Del Campo’s eyes, she told him, “Two pairs of ears are better than one.”
The other detective snorted. “Not if one of those pairs of ears belongs to Johansson. That guy doesn’t stop talking from the second he gets in the car.”
“Look at the bright side. Maybe you’ll pick up some interesting gossip,” she told the detective, referring to his attempt to pick her brain when he’d come in.
Francisco looked far from placated. “His stuff doesn’t interest me.” And then he looked past Brianna’s shoulder toward the squad room doorway. “Well, looks like Prince Charming decided to show up.”
Brianna didn’t have to turn around to know who the detective was referring to. “Careful, Francisco,” she cautioned. “Green is not a good color for you.”
Del Campo surprised her by agreeing. “Yeah, you’re right,” he mumbled. Looking at the list he’d just taken from Brianna, he frowned as he got off her desk. “I’d better go tell Johansson the good news that he’s working with us on this case.”
“Let me know what you find out,” she called after Francisco. And then she turned around just in time to see Jackson sitting down at the desk she’d found for him.
Jackson didn’t really want to look her way, but it seemed inevitable. And when he did, their eyes met. Being the new kid on the block, he felt obligated to say, “Sorry, I know I’m late.”
“Got a good reason?” Brianna asked.
“Yeah.”
The single word was guarded as Jackson braced himself for an onslaught of words and probing questions.
Brianna shrugged. “Okay.”
“You’re not going to ask me what the good reason is?” he asked, looking at her uncertainly.
“Not if you don’t want to tell me,” Brianna answered brightly.
Well, he certainly hadn’t seen this coming—or not coming, as the case might be. Her reaction just wasn’t computing.
“Are you the same person I worked with yesterday?” Jackson asked, tongue in cheek. “The one who kept trying to get me to open up about my business?”
Her curiosity was in high gear, but she had to admit she was enjoying Jackson’s confusion.
“You’ll find that there are many sides to me,” she said with a laugh. “Right now, the side that’s being paid to be a homicide detective is front and center. Del Campo got the hotel’s former assistant manager to come up with a list of guests who stayed at the hotel over its last year. I spent last night and this morning trying to locate them. Del Campo and Johansson took the first half of the list to interview. We’ll take the second.”
“Johansson?” Jackson questioned.
“Detective Billy Johansson,” she clarified. “Six-year veteran. Two in robbery, four in homicide. Any other questions?”
Jackson had come into the squad room ready to roll. After spending a disheartening forty-five minutes this morning visiting his father and telling the man his name and who he was over and over again, he was ready for anything that would help him take his mind off that soul-crushing scenario. He hadn’t been close to his father in any manner of speaking since his teens—when he’d mostly brought an inebriated Ethan home from bars—but seeing the man this way was still taking a toll on him.
In response to her question, Jackson said, “Nope, no other questions. Didn’t even want to know that much. Let’s get started.”
Getting her shoulder bag, Brianna led the way out of the squad room. “You want to drive?”
That was two days in a row that she’d given him the option. He had to admit that he was surprised she did. But maybe she didn’t like to drive, Jackson guessed.
Still, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. The truth was he didn’t trust anyone behind the wheel except for himself.
“Sure.”
“Okay, then we’ll take your car again,” she said as they went down the elevator, taking his silence as agreement.
* * *
Brianna waited until they were in the car and on their way to the first address she had pointed out before she turned to Jackson and finally asked, “So, did you go see your brother this morning?”
Jackson almost laughed. “Well, that didn’t take long.”
“Did you?” Brianna asked again.
Jackson was beginning
