The Ex. BEVERLY BARTON
Quinn said, then nodded toward the kitchen. “Dinner is ready and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. What say we eat, then you can go with me to the Peabody to meet with Griffin Powell. I have an eight o’clock appointment with him tonight.”
“Griffin Powell? You’re hiring Griffin Powell?”
Quinn headed for the kitchen. “Refill the wineglasses, while I put dinner on the table. Eating in here in the breakfast room is okay with me if it is with you.”
“You contacted Griffin Powell and plan to hire him to do what—investigate Lulu Vanderley’s murder?” Kendall followed him into the kitchen area.
“I don’t intend to take any chances, in case the police don’t cover all the bases. We both know that they could concentrate all their efforts on finding evidence against me. I want a private investigator who’s on my payroll, somebody who’ll be working to find the real killer, to prove me innocent.”
“Damn it, Quinn, I’m your lawyer. You shouldn’t be doing anything without running it by me first.”
“I’m taking you with me to meet with Powell tonight. That’s running it by you, isn’t it?”
“And if I disagree with you?”
“About Powell?”
“About anything?”
“Honey, you’re a very good lawyer. I trust you. But we both know that I’m the best damn criminal lawyer there is. As much as I trust your judgment, I trust my own more.”
“Then maybe you’d better defend yourself if you wind up going to trial.”
Quinn zeroed in on her, his gaze freezing her to the spot. She held her breath as he came toward her, grasped her by the shoulders and held her tightly in place.
“Don’t do this. You’re pissed at me because…well, because you’re all hot and bothered, because you want me, because we want each other, but we agreed jumping into bed together might not be a good idea.”
She glared at him.
“I need you, Kendall. Together, we’ll make an unbeatable team.”
Clenching her teeth, she grunted, admitting to herself that he was right. “Okay, this situation with Lulu’s murder could wind up meaning your life is on the line, so I’m not going to argue with you. Besides, I should have known we’d have to play this game by your rules.”
He smiled. “It’s the only way I play.”
Griffin Powell opened the door to his suite and met Annabelle with a cordial semismile. His lips curved upward ever so slightly, but not enough to be a true smile. He was just as she remembered him from their one and only meeting and she found him just as overpoweringly mesmeric now as then. A large, broad-shouldered man, with platinum-blond hair and a pair of dark blue eyes that seemed blank and lifeless one moment, then pensive and calculating the next.
“Please, come in, Ms. Vanderley.”
“Thank you.” She walked into the suite as he stepped aside to allow her entrance. When he followed her into the lounge area, she turned and faced him. “I can’t thank you enough for agreeing to meet with me. I hope I can persuade you to take this case.”
“Won’t you have a seat?” He indicated the sofa with a hand gesture. “Would you care for something to drink?”
Annabelle sat on the sofa, folded her hands and placed them in her lap as she slid one ankle demurely behind the other. She had learned at an early age, at her grandmother Austin’s knee, the proper way for a young lady to sit. “I wouldn’t care for anything to drink, but thank you.”
Griffin sat across from her, on the gold brocade wing chair, and dropped his clasped hands between his knees as he leaned forward and looked directly at her.
“I’m very sorry about your cousin. It’s tragic when someone dies so young, but even more so when murder is involved.”
She offered him a weak, agreeable nod. “Yes, you’re right. Lulu would have turned twenty-eight in a couple of months. I’m still finding it difficult to believe that she’s really gone. And my uncle Louis—Lulu’s father—is taking her death very hard. He’s an old man, with numerous health problems. I believe the only thing that will keep him alive now is finding out who killed his daughter.”
“And that’s where I come in?”
“Yes. I want to hire you to investigate Lulu’s murder.”
“Isn’t that a job for the Memphis police department?”
“Yes. Certainly. But I don’t want any stone unturned, no avenue not taken. The police don’t have any real suspects and it’s been nearly twenty-four hours. Don’t they say that the first twenty-four hours is crucial to solving a crime?”
“Do they?” Griffin cocked an inquisitive eyebrow.
Not quite sure how to interpret his comment, she chose to ignore it. “I can’t imagine why anyone would want to harm Lulu. She didn’t have a mean bone in her body. Everyone who knew her liked her on some level. She had an electric type of personality and—”
“Did you like her?”
“I beg you pardon?”
“Did you like your cousin Lulu?”
Annabelle caught herself before she automatically said yes and gave her reply some thought. “I loved Lulu because we were cousins and very close when we were young. And I did like her, at least part of the time. She could be selfish and irresponsible and I certainly didn’t approve of the kind of life she lived. Does that answer your question?”
He nodded. “You’re aware that the media seems to be putting out their own scenarios concerning Lulu’s death,” Griffin said. “Their favorite appears to be that it’s possible her latest lover killed her. How do you feel about that?”
“I’ve been ignoring the media as much as possible, but I’m well aware that not only is that scenario a favorite with the press, but also with the police.”
“You know the identity of your cousin’s latest lover, the man who discovered her body, don’t you?”
“Yes…I…uh…I met Mr. Cortez this morning, at the police station.”
“Did you? So what do you think? Could he have killed your cousin?”
Annabelle didn’t know how to answer these unexpected questions. How could she tell Griffin Powell that she did not want to believe Quinn Cortez was capable of murder because he had struck a personal chord deep inside her, that her reaction to Lulu’s lover had been that of a woman relating to a highly desirable man? The very thought of her response to Mr. Cortez’s protective gestures made her feel cheap and sleazy. It was so out of character for her.
“I don’t know Mr. Cortez well enough to have an opinion,” she said.
“Hmm…”
“If you agree to take this case, naturally I’ll want you to investigate Mr. Cortez, even though I’m certain the police will put him under a microscope.”
“Yes, I’m sure they will, since he was her lover and he discovered the body. They will want to rule out any possibility that he killed her before they look further and that’s the reason he has—” A repetitive knock on the door interrupted Griffin midsentence. “If you’ll excuse me.” He stood and walked to the door.
Annabelle turned halfway around and focused her gaze on Griffin as he opened the door. Her heart caught in her throat when she instantly recognized the couple who entered the suite. Kendall Wells, followed by Quinn Cortez.