Читать книгу Killing Her Softly - Beverly Barton - Страница 12

Although stunned by Quinn Cortez’s confession, Annabelle managed to maintain her composure. Just barely. Odd how discovering her rescuer was one of Lulu’s numerous lovers actually bothered her. And the fact that he’d been the one who had discovered Lulu’s body concerned her. Hadn’t the reporters implied that Mr. Cortez might have been somehow involved in the crime?

Was she murdered by a lover?

When one of the reporters asked that specific question, she hadn’t paid much attention. But staring Quinn Cortez in the eyes, that question suddenly became of paramount importance.

“You—you discovered Lulu’s body?”

“Please, Ms. Vanderley, you don’t want to do this here, in front of the reporters,” Quinn said.

She nodded. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

When he gripped her elbow, she instinctively jerked away from him, but when he and his female companion flanked her in a protective manner, she followed them straight into the building. The last thing she wanted was to give the reporters a show.

“They’ll follow us,” the woman said. “You two go on ahead and I’ll deal with them.”

“Thanks, honey.” Quinn bestowed a devastating smile on his companion. “I’ll meet you upstairs.”

The woman eyed him speculatively. “Don’t get sidetracked.” She looked pointedly at Annabelle.

“I won’t.” Quinn grabbed Annabelle’s elbow and ushered her forward. “Let’s go now, while we can, and let Kendall handle things here.”

“Kendall?”

“Kendall Wells, my friend and lawyer.”

Lawyer? Did this man need a lawyer? Was he guilty of a crime? Was he a suspect in Lulu’s murder?

Despite her uncertainty, Annabelle didn’t protest his assistance in their escape from the media and willingly allowed him to lead her into the building and through the metal detectors. Neither spoke a word until they were securely inside the building and safe from prying eyes. When they reached the two banks of elevators across from each other, she pulled away from him, tilted her chin and narrowed her gaze. He faced her with the same devastating smile he’d used on his friend and lawyer. She punched one of the elevator UP buttons.

“You and Lulu were lovers?” she asked as they waited.

“Yes, we were.”

“You had a date with her last night and you found…you discovered her body.”

“That’s right.”

When the elevator doors to their right swung open, Annabelle entered, punched the tenth-floor button and turned to Quinn, who was still at her side.

“Do the police suspect you were involved?”

“Probably. In any murder investigation, the victim’s closest relatives and friends are usually suspects, at least in the beginning.”

“You say that as if you—”

“I’m a lawyer,” he told her. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of me. I’m famous. Or perhaps I’m infamous.” He grunted sarcastically.

When she stared at him, a tight knot of apprehension clutched her stomach muscles. “Lulu often chose influential, powerful men as her friends. And usually those men were quite a bit older than she was.”

“I’m thirty-nine. I suppose twelve years makes me somewhat older. But I know for a fact that she enjoyed her share of guys her age and younger.”

“You seem to know more about my cousin than I do.”

“You two weren’t close,” Quinn said. “At least not since you were kids.”

“She told you about me?”

He nodded. “Your name came up once or twice. Apparently she never mentioned me to you.”

“As you said, we haven’t been close in a very long time. Lulu and I chose very different paths in life.”

“You say that in a very superior manner, Ms. Vanderley. I take it that you didn’t approve of your cousin’s hedonistic lifestyle.”

The elevator doors opened on the tenth floor. Annabelle hadn’t even thought about the fact that they were both headed for the same floor, that they probably had the same destination.

Instead of responding to his comment, she asked, “Are you being interrogated concerning Lulu’s murder this morning, Mr. Cortez?”

After stepping out of the elevator, he placed his hand so that he could keep the doors from closing on her. “I’m being interviewed.”

“What’s the difference?” She stepped out of the elevator, taking every precaution to make certain her body didn’t so much as graze his.

Ignoring her question, he said, “I want you to know something, Ms. Vanderley.”

“What’s that, Mr. Cortez?”

Staring at each other, eye to eye, tension vibrated between them. Subconsciously, Annabelle held her breath in anticipation.

“I didn’t kill Lulu,” he said.

Annabelle swallowed. Why was it that she so desperately wanted to believe him? What possible difference could it make to her whether this man was innocent or guilty?

“I don’t think there’s any reason for us to continue this conversation or for us to see or speak to each other again,” Annabelle told him. “So I’ll take this opportunity to thank you again for coming to my rescue with those reporters, but—”

“I want to find out who killed Lulu just as much as you do. Lulu and I weren’t family, but we were friends. Close friends.”

“The way you and Ms. Wells are friends?”

Annabelle groaned mentally. Why had she asked him such a personal question?

His lips twitched. “Yes, the way Kendall and I were once close friends.”

There, I guess that answers your question, doesn’t it? He and his lawyer are more than friends. And he didn’t mind telling you.

“Finding another suspect would certainly be to your advantage, wouldn’t it?” She wanted to get away from this man as quickly as possible. He had the strangest effect on her and she didn’t like it. I believe it’s called charm, she told herself. No doubt this man has been charming women all his life. She shouldn’t flatter herself by believing she was different from countless others he had charmed or that she was in any way important to him. Except…? Except as Lulu’s cousin and the official representative for the Vanderley family, it would work to his advantage if she liked him, if he could persuade her to trust him.

This man could be Lulu’s killer. Never forget that fact.

“Whatever my motives are, you and I want the same thing,” he told her, his dark eyes roaming over her with disturbing familiarity. “If we were to work together—”

“Ms. Vanderley, is this man bothering you?” The masculine voice came from behind her.

Whipping around, she faced a beautiful young man with short auburn hair and a deadly serious expression on his flawless face. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen a prettier man in her entire life.

“No, Mr. Cortez wasn’t bothering me,” she said. “We were just…talking.”

“I wasn’t aware that you two were acquainted.” The young man looked right at Quinn.

“We aren’t,” she said. “I mean we weren’t until a few minutes ago when Mr. Cortez rescued me from a marauding band of reporters.”

Giving Quinn a harsh look, the other man held out his hand to Annabelle as he focused all his attention on her. “I’m Sergeant Chad George, ma’am. My partner and I are the detectives in charge of the investigation into your cousin’s death.”

“Her death? I was told she was murdered.”

“Yes, ma’am, she was,” Chad said. “Allow me to offer you my condolences.”

“On behalf of the Memphis police department?” Quinn asked. “Or are you offering Ms. Vanderley your personal condolences, sergeant?”

Annabelle sensed a hostile tension between the two men as they glowered at each other. And she had the oddest sensation that, for the moment, she was the prize in this particular battle of wills.

“Both,” Chad said sharply, then softened his voice when he spoke again. “Ms. Vanderley, if there’s anything I can do for you…”

“I would like to speak to you and your partner and anyone else involved in this case. I will be representing my family in this matter and expect to be kept informed about anything and everything involving my cousin’s murder.”

“Certainly. Lieutenant Norton and I have an appointment with Mr. Cortez”—Chad glanced at his wristwatch—“right now, so allow me to escort you to the director’s office. He’s expecting you and can answer some of your questions. Then when Norton and I are free, we’ll be glad to do whatever we can for you.”

Annabelle gave Quinn Cortez a sidelong glance. “Is Mr. Cortez a suspect?”

Silence.

Annabelle glanced back and forth from one man to the other. “Knowing if Mr. Cortez is a suspect falls under keeping me informed about anything and everything to do with Lulu’s murder.”

Chad cleared his throat, then said hurriedly, “Mr. Cortez discovered the body. We will be questioning him again this morning, with his attorney present.”

As if on cue, Kendall Wells stepped off the elevator directly behind them. “What have we here, a little informal powwow?” she said as she approached her client. “You’ve been behaving yourself, haven’t you, Quinn?”

“Don’t I always?” he replied.

His lawyer gave him a censoring glance, then zeroed in on the sergeant. “We’re here on time and ready for the interview. Let’s get this over with so Mr. Cortez can—”

“We’ll be ready for y’all shortly,” Chad snapped his response, then turned to Annabelle, all smiles and concern. “Ms. Vanderley, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to Director Danley’s office.” He took her arm and tugged gently.

Annabelle went with him, all the while fighting the urge to look back at Quinn Cortez.

“Don’t make us cool our heels too long,” Ms. Wells called after them.

Sergeant George mumbled under his breath. “I apologize for someone not meeting you outside and escorting you in. It’s unfortunate that you had to be subjected to meeting Quinn Cortez, especially this morning, so soon after…Well, I am sorry.”

“Exactly who is Quinn Cortez and why did he think I should have heard of him?”

Chad harrumphed. “The man’s an egomaniac. He thinks the whole world knows who he is because he’s a criminal defense lawyer who has gotten quite a few murderers off scot-free. He just won a big case over in Nashville. The Terry McBryar case.”

“Oh, yes, I seem to recall hearing something about that trial on the news. Wasn’t McBryar’s lawyer some hotshot from Texas?” Annabelle gasped as she remembered what one newscaster had said about McBryar’s lawyer, whose name she’d forgotten.

He not only has a reputation as a dangerously formidable opponent in the courtroom, but also as a real lady-killer in his personal life.

She wasn’t sure why that comment had stuck with her when she had forgotten the man’s name and had no memory of seeing him on the newscast. The words dangerously formidable and lady-killer repeated themselves again and again in Annabelle’s mind.

“A far as I’m concerned, Cortez is scum,” Chad told her. “He’s an immoral moneygrubber. A real shyster.”

“Are you saying you believe the man has no conscience? If that’s the case, then he’s capable of murder, isn’t he? Is that what you think—you think he killed Lulu?”

Chad coughed, then cleared his throat. She glanced at him and noted a slight pink flush to his cheeks.

“Here we are.” He paused in front of the closed door to the Director of Police’s office.

She realized that Chad George had no intention of answering her question about Quinn Cortez. Why was that? Couldn’t he give her a simple yes or no response?

“Director Danley, Ms. Annabelle Vanderley has arrived,” he announced through the closed door.

A deep, gruff voice responded. “Don’t keep the lady waiting. Go get her and show her in. We’ve got enough trouble with the press as it is. The last thing we want—” When he opened the door and saw Annabelle standing at the sergeant’s side, the director quieted immediately. “Ms. Vanderley?”

She nodded.

“Please, come into my office.” Danley cast Chad a scurrilous glare. “Don’t you have somewhere to be right now, sergeant?”

“Yes, sir.” The younger man all but clicked his heels before he turned and walked away, leaving Annabelle with Director Danley.

Jim Norton rubbed the palm of his hand across his face as he studied Quinn Cortez. The Quinn Cortez. There had been a time when he’d been The Jimmy Norton, renowned UT running back and teammate of the even more renowned quarterback, Griffin Powell. Jim understood what it was like to have your reputation precede you and to often follow you around like a ghost from the past, a ghost from which you couldn’t escape.

He’d listened carefully to everything Cortez had said and he’d interpreted the way in which the man had responded to questions. He’d also studied his body language as he’d sat there, cool as a cucumber, for the past hour. Jim’s gut instincts told him that Cortez didn’t kill Lulu. First and foremost, the man had no motive. At least none they knew of. And secondly, Jim had been impressed with the way Cortez had dealt with Chad George’s hostility and rudeness. His partner seemed damned and determined to make Cortez confess to the crime. Jim had come close to asking Chad to step outside a couple times before he crossed the line with his unprofessional interrogation. His reaction to Cortez wasn’t the norm for Chad, who often acted on emotion rather than logic, but always conducted himself in a professional manner.

Jim followed the rules, never broke them—not in a long time—and bent them only when absolutely necessary. Dealing with a lawyer as smart as Cortez put an extra burden on the Memphis police department and the bottom line with Jim was making sure neither he nor Chad did anything that even hinted of illegality.

Been there. Done that. Wouldn’t repeat that mistake.

“Are we about through here?” Kendall Wells asked as she rose from her chair and snapped shut her briefcase.

“Maybe,” Chad said.

“Yes, we’re though,” Jim corrected his partner. “And we want to thank Mr. Cortez for being so cooperative.”

“Then my client is free to go?”

“Certainly.”

“Free to return to Houston?” she asked.

Jim grunted. “At this point, I’d rather not make what I’m going to say official…”

Ms. Wells sighed loudly. “He’s free to walk out of the Criminal Justice Center, but not free to leave Memphis. Is that it?”

“We don’t have all the facts in this case. Not yet,” Jim said. “Once we have the autopsy report and we’ve interviewed—”

“I won’t leave Memphis.” Cortez stood. “I’ll be available if you need anything else from me. But don’t mistake my cooperation for acquiescence. If y’all don’t find Lulu’s killer in a big hurry, the public and the Vanderley family are going to bring a great deal of pressure down on Director Danley. I don’t intend to stand idly by and do nothing until y’all arrest me for a murder I didn’t commit.”

“What’s the matter, Cortez? If you’re so damn innocent, why are you afraid we’ll pin the murder on you?” Chad came out of the corner where he’d been standing quietly for the past ten minutes. “We’d have to have some really good evidence before we did that. You must be scared shitless that we’ll find that evidence.”

Cortez glared at Chad, a killer stare that Jim figured had made many a man quake in his boots. Chad took a step back, but didn’t break eye contact with Cortez.

“Lieutenant Norton, I advise you to rein in your partner.” Cortez eased his gaze from Chad to Jim.

“We’re out of here.” Kendall Wells patted Cortez on the back.

“We’ll be in touch,” Jim said.

Just as Cortez passed by Chad, Jim heard Cortez warn his partner in a soft whisper, “Annabelle Vanderley is off-limits to you.”

Before Chad could respond, Cortez and his lawyer were out the door. Jim clamped his hand down on Chad’s shoulder. “What was that all about?”

Chad shrugged. “God damn son of a bitch. He’s the one who’d better steer clear of Ms. Vanderley.”

Jim rubbed the back of his neck, then shook his head. “What did I miss? What’s going on with you, Cortez and Annabelle Vanderley?”

“Nothing. It’s just that Cortez played white knight to her outside earlier when some reporters were harassing her. We should have sent someone to meet her and escort her inside to protect her from—”

“Someone meaning you?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“I take it that this Ms. Vanderley is quite attractive and that fact didn’t escape either you or Cortez.” Jim tightened his hold on Chad’s shoulder. “So help me God, if you instigate a personal pissing contest between you and Cortez, I’ll—”

“I didn’t start anything. He—”

“I don’t give a damn who started what. Just make sure you don’t get involved. Steer clear of Cortez except on official business. Do I make myself clear?”

“I swear I’ll steer clear of Cortez until we have some evidence against him. And I’m telling you, there’s bound to be evidence. He may be smart, but he’s not nearly as smart as he thinks he is. If he killed her—and I say he did—then he slipped up somehow and all we’ve got to do is figure out how.”

Quinn had wanted to stick around and speak to Annabelle Vanderley again. But he’d thought better of the idea—actually Kendall had warned him in no uncertain terms to stay away from Lulu’s cousin. And she was right. What good would it do either him or Annabelle if he sought her out again simply because she intrigued him. Lulu had talked about her cousin several times and he always sensed that she both loved and hated Annabelle. From what Lulu had told him—that her cousin was plain, placid and prudish—he hadn’t expected the woman to practically take his breath away the moment he saw her.

Lulu had been gorgeous. All Barbie doll leggy, bosomy and blond. And as spoiled rotten as her daddy’s millions could make her. She’d been Quinn’s type—an easy lay who wouldn’t complicate his life.

Annabelle possessed a cool, reserved elegance. A Grace Kelly beauty that hinted of hidden fires burning deep inside and saved for one lucky man.

Was that it, the reason she fascinated him so much? Did he see Annabelle as a challenge? God knew he hadn’t found a woman challenging in…Hell, he couldn’t remember when.

After the police interview, Quinn had driven back to Kendall’s, fixed a fresh pot of coffee and considered his options. Kendall had given him a key and told him to make himself at home, for the time being. He appreciated her hospitality, but if he was going to be stuck in Memphis for a while, he’d need his own place.

Setting his coffee mug aside, Quinn punched the preset number on his cell phone and waited for Marcy to answer, which she did on the third ring.

“Hello.”

“Marcy, I need you to round up Aaron and Jace and y’all get the first flight out of Houston to Memphis.”

“What’s going on? I thought you planned to get some R&R before even thinking about taking another case.”

Marcy had been Quinn’s personal assistant for nearly ten years. Their association had lasted longer than a lot of marriages. He relied on her, trusted her and paid her an ungodly salary to be at his beck and call twenty-four/seven. In all their years together, she’d never let him down, which was more than he could say for most of the women in his life, past and present. And that was the reason he’d never allowed their association to change from the friendship level to something more intimate. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been tempted. Marcy was a doll. Cute as a button. All of five one and a hundred pounds soaking wet. But he wouldn’t do anything to risk losing her. Lovers were a dime a dozen; a great personal assistant was irreplaceable.

“Lulu Vanderley was murdered last night before I arrived at her house,” Quinn said. “I discovered her body.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah, my sentiments exactly.”

“So, unless you’re phoning from the police station, I take it they haven’t arrested you.”

“Not yet, but I’m suspect numero uno.”

“You were told not to leave town, huh?”

“It was more of a request than a demand.”

“I’ll have to find Aaron and Jace. Might be tomorrow before they can fly in, but I can be there by this evening if you want—”

“Just wait and the three of you fly in together tomorrow. But you could do something for me from there. Two things actually.”

“Name them.”

“Check out renting us a place here in Memphis. Something I can lease by the month. I could be stuck here a week or two or if they try to pin this thing on me—”

“I’ll take care of it. What else?”

“Get me Griffin Powell’s home phone number.”

“Ask me to move the Smoky Mountains to Hawaii.”

Quinn chuckled. “I know it’ll take a minor miracle, but you’re good at pulling off the impossible.”

“Flattery will get you what you want,” she told him. “And maybe performing another minor miracle will get me a raise.”

“You’re overpaid already.”

“I wish.” She paused for a couple of seconds, then said, “Quinn?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“I know you didn’t kill Lulu Vanderley.”

“You’re one in a million, kiddo.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t,” he said. “Besides, if I do, you’ll remind me.”

“Got that damn straight.”

“Get me Powell’s number as soon as possible,” Quinn said. “He’s the best money can buy and—”

“You always buy the best.”

“You know me too well.” Quinn grunted. “I want my own private investigator to assist the Memphis police in their job of finding Lulu’s killer. Unless they come up with something damn quick, they may not look any further than me.”