Nik finished pulling on her jeans and zipped them. “Let me guess. Marilyn’s?”
“Give the lady a cigar,” he said, imitating the voice of a game-show announcer. “You got it on the first try.”
Pulling her hair out from inside her sweater, she shook her head to let her hair fan out down her back. “Where are you?”
“Still at the scene of the crime,” Finn answered.
Getting information out of this man was definitely like pulling teeth—slowly. But at least she was getting it, she thought. That was something.
“And the scene of the crime is?” Nik asked, her voice going up at the end of the question.
“McFadden and Adams.”
She knew where that was. One of her favorite Mexican restaurants was located there.
“Don’t go anywhere,” she told him. “I can be there in twenty minutes.”
Twenty minutes. Finn did a quick calculation. If it took her twenty minutes to get here, that meant that she lived somewhere in his vicinity, he thought—unless she was coming from another direction, he amended. He supposed he could get Valri to find out where the annoying investigator lived—if he was really interested in finding out.
The next minute he decided that he would just be buying trouble if he went that route.
“All right, get a move on. I’ll wait,” he told the woman grudgingly.
Finn realized that he was saying the last part to a dead phone. The insurance investigator had terminated the call.
Saying a few choice words under his breath, Finn tucked away his cell phone.
Nik got to where the detective was waiting in just under seventeen minutes.
As she came to an abrupt stop, he stepped to the side and waited for her to get out of her car.
“How many lights did you go through?” Finn asked her the second Nik got out of her car.
“None.” Nik saw the skeptical look on Cavanaugh’s tanned, handsome face. “I learned how to time the lights,” she said. She could tell that he didn’t believe her, so she explained. “If you get the first one and keep going at a certain speed, you can catch a green light at all the intersections. I learned that from my dad.”
“Your dad,” Finn said.
He still sounded as if he thought she was making things up, she thought. “Yeah, my dad was part of the original work detail that put in the traffic lights back when Aurora was still in its planning stages.”
Finn didn’t really know how to respond to that. He certainly didn’t want to travel down memory lane with this woman, so instead he focused on the reason he’d called her in the first place.
“Let’s go. It’s this way,” he said.
Finn brought her to the location where the body had been discovered. They both looked over the area very carefully, although there really wasn’t anything to be found.
“I’m not really sure if this has any sort of a connection to the woman we’re looking for,” the detective admitted.
“You said there was a note,” she reminded him. That would mean a connection, Nik thought.
“Yes, and her thumbprint was on it, but for all we know, the dead woman might have just picked the piece of paper up and had it on her person when she was killed. I don’t know if it actually had anything to do with her murder.”
And she got the impression that he really didn’t know what was on the note, so there was no sense in asking him that again, Nik thought. She tried another tack. “How did the woman die?” Nik asked him.
That much he could tell her, even though the information was secondhand. “According to my partner, who called me, she was stabbed through the heart.”
Nik filled in the blanks from the way the detective worded his answer. “Then you didn’t see her?”
Finn looked at her sharply. “And what makes you say that?”
Nik answered automatically. “Elementary, my dear Watson,” she teased. Then, seeing that the man appeared to be in no mood for a lighthearted answer—why didn’t that surprise her?—she replied seriously. “It was the way you phrased your answer.”
“Well, you’re right.” She was surprised he actually admitted that. “They had already taken the body to the medical examiner when I arrived,” Finn told her, his voice sounding exceedingly serious.
Nik automatically glanced at her watch as she asked, “What time does the medical examiner’s office open?” She began to walk back to her car.
This was a mistake, Finn thought. He had really managed to open up a can of worms by calling her. Whatever she could add to the investigation, it wasn’t worth having to put up with this would-be insurance detective stomping through his investigation.
“Why do you want to know that?” he asked her.
She stopped and turned around. She would have thought the answer to that would have been pretty self-evident. “So we can confirm her time of death and the manner in which she was killed. Why are you asking me ‘why?’” she asked. “I know this isn’t your first investigation—and, believe it or not, it’s not mine, either. You called me so you obviously want me here. Why don’t you stop pretending that you find me annoying and let’s get on with this and be on the same page?” she told him.
“I’m not pretending about finding you annoying,” he replied. “But let’s just put that on hold for now.” This wasn’t just a mistake—this was a huge mistake. A huge mistake for a number of reasons. But he wasn’t about to say as much to her out loud. She would undoubtedly go on and on about that if he did.
Finn sighed. “All right,” he agreed like a man who was resigned to his fate, “but before we go anywhere, I want to make certain things perfectly clear.”
Uh-oh, here it comes, Nik thought, bracing herself for another lecture. “Such as?”
“Such as that as long as you’re with me on this investigation, you’re going to play by my rules. If I tell you to do something, you won’t argue with me, you’ll just do it.”
His wording left something to be desired. “First, I don’t think there’s going to be any time for ‘playing,’ Cavanaugh. And as for the second part of that ‘commandment,’ people have gotten into trouble adhering to that.”
He frowned. “This isn’t the time for cracking jokes, either,” he informed her. “Now, if you’re not going to take this seriously—”
“Oh, I take my job very seriously, Detective. I always have.” She looked up into his eyes, a silent challenge in hers. “How about you?”
“I take everything seriously,” he informed her somberly.
“I can believe that,” she quipped. “You know,” she continued, “that just might be your problem.”
About to get into his vehicle, he looked at her sharply. “Are you actually analyzing me?” he demanded.
Her expression was innocence personified. “No, just trying to be helpful.”
Yeah, right, he thought. “Well, don’t,” Finn ordered.
Nik cocked her head, looking at him. “Message received. To the medical examiner’s?” she asked, waiting for him to confirm that that was their next destination.
But it was obvious that Finn had a different idea. “You said you were friends