Killing Her Softly. Beverly Barton

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      “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.”

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