Page 13 of Deadly Pride

“Neither did I. We both overslept.” That's what lack of sleep did. Once you did lie down, you were dead to the world. “I'll hit the shower first, then you. Do you mind letting them know we'll be there in thirty minutes?”

She stood under the shower's spray, letting the water clear her mind of things that didn't belong...like dwelling on Liam. Once this case was over, he'd be gone. She'd do well to remember that and keep things professional.

Showered, she donned her usual uniform of a dark suit and blouse, the blouse pink this time, and put her hair into a ponytail. “All yours.” Her eyes widened as she stepped out to see him standing there in nothing but a pair of cotton shorts. So much for professionalism. Her mouth dried up.

“Excuse me.” He brushed past her and into the bathroom.

She occupied herself by checking her phone again, then checking her weapon and making sure she had her badge. By the time he returned in pants, shirt, and tie, she'd regained her composure. “Ready?”

“Yes, ma'am.” He tucked his badge in his pocket, his gun in his shoulder holster, and waved her on ahead of him. “I'm driving this time, so hand over the keys. I fear you'll get us killed the way you drive.”

“What's wrong with the way I drive?” She narrowed her eyes.

“You take corners too fast and weave in and out of traffic. You aren't a race car driver, Detective.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers.

“Fine.” She fished the keys from her pocket and dropped them into his hand. “You'd better not drive like an old man.”

He laughed and opened the passenger side door for her. “Unfortunately, the victim is already deceased. Breaking speed records won't bring him or her back. When I need to speed, I will.”

Ten minutes later they pulled in front of an upscale restaurant Harper could never afford on her salary. Side-by-side they headed for an area closed off by crime scene tape. Slumped over a table, a box of doughnuts in front of her, was the body of a woman in a bright yellow dress.

“We suspect the doughnuts, a gift from another patron, were poisoned,” the officer said.

“Description of the gifter?” Harper asked.

He jerked his head toward a server. “Working on that now.”

Harper marched toward the pale faced young man. “You saw the person who purchased the doughnuts?”

He nodded. “A man in a fancy suit. Dark hair combed back from his face. Dark eyes. Handsome, I think women would say. Seemed nice enough. The...woman kept smiling his way, flirting, you know? I thought maybe he liked bigger women. Anyway, she fell over and he got up and left. Creepy thing? He was smiling.”

Harper glanced up at Liam's stern face. “Want to ask around and see whether anyone here knows the man?”

He nodded. “I doubt anyone who did is still here, but we can check.”

How did this man keep slipping through their fingers?

~

Liam studied the shocked faces of those in the restaurant. Not everyone was still there that would have seen the suspect. The manager stood at the register gathering the nights room service tickets and credit card charges. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.

“He paid with cash,” the server said. “I remember that because he left me a big tip.”

“Was he a regular?”

“No. First time I've seen him, anyway.”

Great. They'd be lucky to get an accurate description.

He sighed, pulled a notepad from the pocket inside his jacket, and approached a couple sitting at a table near where the suspect had. “I'm Special Agent McConnell. I'd like to ask you a few questions about the victim.”

“She ate a lot,” the woman said. “Poor thing didn't seem to mind her size and got giddy when that man bought her doughnuts.”

“Can you describe him?”

“Handsome. Looked as if he worked out. Dark eyes. He didn't look like a killer.”

“Most of them don't ma'am.” Her description was the same as the server's. “Please stick around and speak with our sketch artist.”

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