“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.
What are they doing here?
“Please, come inside and meet my other guest,” Griffin said.
Kendall Wells stopped instantly the moment she saw Annabelle. Quinn Cortez paused, did a double-take, then glared at Griffin.
“I see you already have a guest,” Quinn said. “Did I get the time wrong? Was our appointment for later?”
“No, you’re here right on time,” Griffin replied. “Ms. Vanderley was a few minutes early.”
“What’s she doing here?” Kendall asked.
Annabelle’s gaze connected with Quinn’s. An odd sensation hit her in the pit of her stomach. His gaze was not friendly; it even bordered on hostile, but she couldn’t look away.
“It seems that Ms. Vanderley is in need of a private investigator, just as Mr. Cortez is,” Griffin explained. “Imagine my surprise when I realized that both of my prospective clients want the same murder investigated.”
“I see,” Kendall said. “So you decided to meet with both Ms. Vanderley and Mr. Cortez and see who’s willing to bid the highest for your services.”
“Humph.” The sound that came from Griffin was a combination of amused chuckle and disgusted irritation.
“I think you insulted Mr. Griffin,” Quinn told Kendall. “Perhaps you should apologize.”
“If I’m wrong, I’ll say I’m sorry.” Kendall shot Quinn a withering glare, then focused on Griffin with glowering intensity. “Am I wrong?”
“You’re wrong,” Griffin told her, a cold, indifferent expression on his face. “I set up this meeting to see if Ms. Vanderley and Mr. Cortez would be willing to work together to find Lulu Vanderley’s murderer.”
“You what?” Kendall glanced back and forth from Quinn to Annabelle, then said to Griffin, “You’re suggesting that they both hire you and the two of them join forces to track down Lulu’s murderer. Is that correct?”
“No, I—I don’t think that would work,” Annabelle said. The last thing she wanted was to spend anymore time with Quinn Cortez than she already had.
“Why wouldn’t it work?” Kendall asked. “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
“But only if Ms. Vanderley believes I’m innocent,” Quinn said as he walked toward the sofa. Stopping when he was less than two feet away from Annabelle, he looked right at her. “And you’re not sure, are you? You believe there’s a possibility that I killed your cousin.”
Aaron shoved the naked girl over and positioned her so that she had to catch herself from falling by bracing her open palms flat against the bed. While she gasped and shivered, he ran his hand over her sleek butt, then lifted his penis and rammed it into her. Damn, what a feeling. Grasping her hips, he maneuvered her back and forth, quickly increasing the speed and the pressure. Their naked flesh slapped together and that friction combined with her feminine moisture created a smacking sound. Despite the fact that this was their third time tonight, he was on the verge of coming. But hell, he was twenty-six and hadn’t been with a woman in weeks. He’d built up a lot of steam and it was going to take awhile to blow it off.
The louder her grunts and groans, the more excited he became, the closer to losing it. He slid his arm around her, eased his hand between her legs and fingered her clitoris. Within a couple of minutes, she keened deep in her throat, then cried out when her climax hit. That was all it took to send him over the edge.
In the aftermath, sweaty and panting, they fell across the bed. As he lay there looking up at the dark ceiling, he sighed. He’d met Gala in a downtown bar this evening and they’d hit it off from the first hello. It had taken him all of thirty minutes to talk her into coming back to his apartment with him. They’d practically ripped off each other’s clothes the minute they got here and he’d humped her on the sofa the first time. The second time had been an hour