“I see.” Clearly he didn’t think Cheryl was much of an alibi, but he couldn’t argue with the other hundred-plus people who’d been sitting in that room. At least some of them would have seen me. I was not exactly easy to miss.
“Well, then, thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Roberts.” He nodded, turned on his heel, and strode off abruptly, leather soles smacking on the concrete.
“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath.
“I hope that wasn’t aimed at me,” a voice said cheerfully from behind me.
I whirled to find Lucas standing there in a pair of board shorts, flip-flops, and nothing else. It was a sight to see, believe me. My heart was doing ridiculous things in my chest. Like backflips.
“Oh, hi. How much of that did you hear?” I couldn’t help the slight flush of embarrassment.
“Enough to know that you put that detective in his place,” he said with a wide grin. “That man has been harassing you a little too much. And for no reason.”
“He seems to think I’m a killer just because I found Natasha’s body.”
“That’s ridiculous. And besides, you have an alibi for the second murder. Surely he’ll take you off the list of suspects now?”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” I said dryly. “I think the man is determined to find me guilty. And if not me, then Cheryl. In fact, I think he’d be happy to lock both of us up just on principle.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said soothingly. “I’ve worked with a lot of police over the years, doing research for my books. He’s just doing his job. He has to check all the angles, you know.”
I sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s frustrating, though. Pompous jerk. Anyway, where are you headed?”
Lucas grinned that charming grin of his that made my internal backflips rev up a notch. “Thought I’d find a cabana, preferably minus a dead body, and relax for a bit. Want to join me?”
Did I? Be still my heart.
I GAVE A BLISSFUL SIGH as I sank back into the shade of the cabana. White canvas flapped gently in the light breeze off the ocean. It was still humid as all get out and way too warm for my tastes, but the shady cabana kept the temperature somewhat bearable. The heat melted the tension, which Detective Costa had resurrected after my massage. I tried not to think of my gorgeous companion too hard...or the tension might return yet again—but in a good way, I supposed. Instead I pretended I was alone on a tropical island. All I needed was a fruity drink with an umbrella in it.
“So, you really are determined to see this thing through?”
Drat. There went pretending. I sighed and lifted my sunglasses to stare at Lucas. He was looking relaxed and delicious lounging on the cushions like a Greek god.
“Of course. Costa seems determined to find us guilty of something. I have to clear my and Cheryl’s names before we end up locked away with the key tossed in the Gulf.” The only thing we were guilty of was meddling. Which could be construed as being against the law. Sort of. I mean, if you wanted to look at it that way. But Costa was determined to be an idiot, so I had to save myself.
Lucas nodded. “All right. So what’s next?”
I knew he wanted to help, but it was weird involving him. I barely knew the guy. Still, it might help to have someone besides Cheryl to bounce ideas off of. Plus I was pretty sure Cheryl was getting tired of my shenanigans. This might give her a break for a bit. Let her recover.
“Honestly? I’m not sure. Here’s what I know.” I gave him a quick rundown of what happened at the hotel the night before and what I’d learned about Andrea from Rose. “I need to find out more about Andrea. Like, did she have a new boyfriend? A best friend? Somebody she might have told what she knew about Natasha’s murder or whatever it was she was hiding.”
“Seems like a good avenue of investigation,” Lucas agreed.
“And then there are the minor suspects.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “That’s a new one.”
“Minor suspects are those that seem unlikely, but could have a motive for one or more of the murders.”
“Like?”
I wiggled into a more comfortable position. I noticed his eyes strayed to my cleavage before politely glancing away. I wasn’t sure if I was disappointed at his self-control or pleased that he was being such a gentleman. Maybe a little of both.
“Like Yvonne Kittering, for instance. On the one hand, the woman hated Natasha. Natasha made her life a living hell. Motive if I ever heard one. On the other hand, Natasha was her bread and butter. Without her, Yvonne doesn’t have a career. Which, of course, is an even bigger reason not to kill her.” I frowned. Logic was so annoying.
“What about Avery Andrews?” he asked. “Wouldn’t Yvonne just pick up with her where she left off with Natasha?”
I was surprised Lucas knew so much about the romance world. Granted, there was likely some overlap with the way things were done with thrillers, but there were still a lot of differences. I shook my head. “Avery has a different acquisitions editor. Avery would either stay with that editor or go to one higher up the chain.”
“And that wouldn’t be Yvonne.”
I shook my head. “Nope. Yvonne is out of luck unless she manages to find someone who can compete with Natasha’s success and that’s unlikely.”
“Why?”
“Because Yvonne and the publishing house made Natasha. Three years ago, she was nobody. They literally created her success. With a new author, they’d have to start from scratch again. Why do that when they’ve got Avery already high in the charts? Throw some more marketing her way, and she’ll be at least as big as Natasha, if not bigger. She’s a better writer, after all.
