Page 28 of Last Shot

She was wearing her own underwear.

Grey’s glare had deepened when she’d stepped out of his bathroom in Nella’s clothes, and it hadn’t left his face the whole drive. ‘You’re going to be cold,’ he said – an accusation, not a concern – as he parked in the winery visitors’ car park. ‘They put the air conditioner on so people will buy more.’

‘I’m fine,’ Max said, smoothing down the goose prickles on her arms. ‘I’m not wearing a dead flamingo.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Grey stalked ahead, hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket. Max had the urge to rip it off him and snuggle down against the stiff leather.

‘Are we meant to be in disguise?’ she asked as they stomped the reddish-brown dirt off their shoes on the entrance mat.

‘No. Why?’ He raised his brows. Urgh, he was radiating warmth. She could smell leather and some sort of floral soap.

‘I thought your “work” outfit would involve a cloak and all-over leather body armour.’

‘Like Batman?’

‘Or a ninja. I’m kind of disappointed we’re coming through the front door. I thought we’d be scaling the side of the building to jump through a window.’ She ducked under his enormous arm as he held the door open.

‘Is that why you became a cop? So you could scale buildings?’

‘And run red lights,’ she said, ignoring the lump in her throat. If everything went to plan, if she could stop this murder, that lump might go away. She wished she didn’t have to do everything on the Giant’s terms – like she was a twelve-year-old without a licence, relying on a reluctant parent to chauffeur her around. ‘And hold a—’

‘Shhh!’ He grabbed her wrist, his shovel hand practically snapping her bones in half, and pulled her against the wall to let a wine tour-group through. ‘Not in here.’ His breath was warm too. Goddamn it, he was right about the aircon. How strange would he think she was if she put her arms around him and absorbed a little bit of that heat? It wasn’t like his impression of her could get any worse.

‘I was gonna saytaser.You’re a little paranoid, Batman,’ she said, lifting her chin. She was going to need to go to a chiropractor if she kept looking up at him like this; he was so stupidly tall.

‘It’s my job to be paranoid.’

‘Not about murders apparently. Murders are no big deal.’

‘Shut your mouth.’ His hand moved as though he was going to do it for her. Suddenly her wrist was free and he looked down, aghast. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to ...’

Why was he apologising?

Oh.

She’d done it, hadn’t she? When he’d tried to chase her out of the Barbarani grounds that morning. Her wild-eyed ‘don’t touch me’ thing. Looked like she’d really freaked him the fuck out.

Strangely, that thought didn’t warm her like she expected it to.

Hands by his sides, he strode over to the long oak bar. She followed like a gosling crossing the road after its mother. There were clumps of people at different stages of wine tasting. A group of women giggled and frolicked on the left side of the bar with the artificial enthusiasm of a hen’s weekend, their fake-tanned arms reaching for samples and hiking up their push-up bras. To the right was a salt-and-pepper-haired group sniffing the wine like bloodhounds trying to find a body.

The restaurant existed in an alternate universe through the glass windows. It was packed even though it wasn’t even midday yet. Max wondered if the scene was similar down at the Barbarani winery. Grey had dragged her through Jett’s shed, ignoring her request to scope out the rest of the property.

‘Raphael.’ Grey’s voice echoed, a man giving his last words before he was hanged.

A dark head shot up from behind the bar. ‘Hawke.’

Max raised her eyebrows. ‘Hawke?’ she mouthed.

Grey ignored her. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Or go for a walk?’ Max chimed in. That earned her a glare from Grey and an amused lip quiver from the barman. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought we were rhyming.’

Grey’s glare had the shaking focus of a bull about to be let out of the pen.

‘I like the sound of a walk.’ Raphael motioned at another staff member, a tall, blond guy who sort of looked familiar.

‘Forrest,’ Raphael said, ‘cinque minuti.’

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