Undercover Lovers. Julie Kenner
with her brow furrowed.
“What?” he said.
“I’m just wondering why you’re being so complimentary.”
He laughed. “Because you deserve the compliment.”
“But two seconds ago you were slamming me for not including any conclusions in the report.” Her mouth was tight and her back ramrod straight. The message was clear enough—Tori wasn’t particularly amenable to criticism of her work.
“I wasn’t slamming you. You found the connection. I was just wondering if you had any suspects.”
He turned his gaze away from the road to look her in the eye, but she avoided him, turning instead to look out the side window.
“Tori?”
“What? Oh. No. I mean, that’s why we’re going there, right?”
Carter frowned, mentally shaking his head in exasperation. Earlier, he and Tori had seemed to be making progress, really working together as partners. But with Tori he should have known that every move would be one step forward and two steps back. “We’re a team, Lowell. If you’ve got your eye on someone, let me know about it.”
Again, she licked her lips. But this time she didn’t stay silent. “No one in particular.” She nodded toward the pad in her lap. “I was just going over all the possibilities, actually. The owner’s got a lot of potential, of course, since he would have contact with everyone who comes to the resort. After that…” She trailed off with a shrug.
“What?”
“Just that, the way the resort is set up, the clients follow a certain track. None of our victims line up.”
“And that means what?”
“A couple of things. For one, with some of the victims, the information used to blackmail them was simply that they’d gone to the resort at all.”
“The client list is confidential,” Carter said. That was another reason the owner didn’t make the best suspect. If word got out that the promised confidentiality had been compromised, his business would go down the tubes.
“Exactly,” Tori said. “And for some of the victims, that was enough ammo to blackmail them.” She riffled some papers. “For others, though…” She trailed off with a shrug. “Well, like for our celebrity victim. What celebrity would care about being seen at a sex resort?”
“So the ammo against him went a lot deeper.”
Tori nodded. “Exactly. A lot nastier. A lot more provocative.” She turned to face him. “And there’s more. The victims didn’t come in contact with the same people. Here, I’ll show you.” She rummaged around for a while, then pulled out a sheaf of papers with computer-generated charts and graphs. “I did this before I left. It’s a breakdown of everyone we know that our victims interacted with.” She pointed to the chart. “Here and here are the intersection points. But there isn’t one person except the owner who came in contact with everybody.”
“So maybe he is our man,” Carter said. He didn’t believe it, but he wondered how Tori would analyze the situation.
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “Except from what I understand, he’s squeaky clean.”
“On the surface. Maybe underneath, he’s as dirty as they come.”
“Well, he certainly is the only one my research points to specifically. But still…”
“What?”
She waved the sheaf of papers. “This may suggest one result, but it doesn’t feel right. He’s got so much at stake. And he’s such an obvious suspect.”
“Too obvious?”
“I think so.”
“I do, too,” Carter said. He nodded toward her pile of papers. “So you just pulled that together after you were assigned this project?”
“Yeah. It wasn’t hard. Research comes easy to me.”
“I’m impressed.” He shouldn’t be, of course. Tori Lowell was one smart lady.
She flashed him a genuine smile. “Thanks.”
“You’ll let me know if you find any hidden clues buried in your charts and graphs?”
She laughed, revealing a tiny dimple in her cheek, then nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I promise I’ll share.”
While she turned to her notes, Carter whistled to himself. So far so good. Not only were they almost to Santa Barbara, but he’d made a little progress with Tori. Maybe teamwork wasn’t her middle name, but at least he was pretty certain she’d make an effort. Considering it was Tori he was talking about, he considered that a victory.
Fifteen minutes later, Carter tapped the brakes, slowing the car as they passed the sign welcoming them to Santa Barbara, a quaint, Spanish-influenced town that housed a good percentage of the world’s rich and famous. “Any recommendations?”
She looked up from her notes. “For what?”
“Hotels.”
That must have surprised her, because she closed her portfolio and turned to face him. “We’re not going straight to the resort?”
“I told you. Your idea makes sense.”
She turned, facing him more directly, one eyebrow arched. “Really?”
“Really.” And he wanted to make peace after their little tiff about the suspects. Not that Tori needed to know that. “Besides,” he continued, “we’re not due to meet with the task force until the day after tomorrow. They’re still working on making sure our cover stories are in place. So we’ve got two full nights to practice being married.” He grinned, then patted her hand. “Works out well, don’t you think? Gives me time to get acquainted with my little wife.”
She rolled her eyes. “Lesson number one—the little wife ain’t so little. And she’s got a mean right hook.” She frowned. “So you’re really agreeing to this?” She squinted, as if searching for ulterior motives.
“Hell, yes. I told you. It’s perfect. You’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”
Her shoulders dropped a bit as she relaxed. “Well, okay, then.” She aimed her blue eyes at him, and he couldn’t help but smile at the light he saw there. Tori liked to win, no doubt about that. “But remember those words,” she said. “I expect to hear them a lot.”
“Words?”
“‘You’re right.”’
He laughed. “I always am.”
She opened her mouth to correct him, then closed it and leaned back against her seat. “I’m right. You, I’m not so sure about.” She flashed a grin. “But you’re doing okay today.”
“Thanks so much.” Knowing Tori, so long as she got her way, she’d happily praise his leadership abilities.
“Anytime,” she said, looking slightly smug.
“The hotel?”
“Oh.” She cracked her portfolio again. “I didn’t have anyplace in mind.” With a shrug, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Guess I wasn’t really expecting you to agree.”
He decided to let that one pass. “Know anything about Santa Barbara?”
“I’m an east coast girl.”
“Hmm.” He scanned the street, his eyes finally settling on a sign announcing tourist information. He pulled into the parking lot, stopped the car, then eased open his door. “Show time.”
As they headed up the steps to the entrance, he slipped his arm around her waist. She stiffened a bit, then relaxed,