Colby Velocity. Debra WebbЧитать онлайн книгу.
to act cooperatively went a long way in easing her concern about working with him. Not that he was a bad guy, he absolutely wasn’t. But he was a former Equalizer and the merger with the Colby Agency had been a difficult pill to swallow to some extent for Jim Colby’s entire team. Most of the bumps were behind them now.
That her attention, despite the current situation, settled on the usual details about him annoyed her, but it was what it was. An unexpected attraction that could not be allowed to proliferate.
Rocky was tall, heavily muscled. Coal-black hair and unsettlingly vivid blue eyes. Everything about him somehow refuted his background. Reared and educated in Tampa by medical professional parents, he dressed like a cowboy—sans the requisite hat. From the first time she’d met him she’d fully expected the man to drawl out a “yes, ma’am” to match that swagger of a champion that attracted the eye of every female he encountered—including Kendra’s. When he walked into a room he owned it, insofar as female interest was concerned.
As if she’d made the statement out loud, her partner swung his gaze back to her.
She rerouted her thoughts. “I left a voice mail for Wayne Burton.” Keep going with the details. Rocky had been in the restroom when she’d made that call. “He’s a contact in D.C.’s homicide division I reached out to on occasion … before.” Before she’d recognized the writing on the wall and the hard cold fact that she was not cut out for this world. And before she’d tried a relationship with him that couldn’t have fit in a million years. “I’m hoping he’ll agree to brief us on the path the investigation is taking at this point.”
Those startlingly blue eyes searched hers a moment as if looking for the motive behind her words. “A reliable enough contact you have reason to believe he would go out on a limb to give you a break in a potentially sensitive and high-profile case?”
Rocky wasn’t asking about reliability. What he had actually asked was had she slept with Wayne Burton. His eyes confirmed her analysis. “Yes,” she said, unashamed. Wayne was reliable and she had slept with him. But that was history. History Leland Rockford had no need to know. She hadn’t communicated with Wayne in three years … other than the occasional e-mail.
“That should make life a lot simpler.” Rocky plucked a cold French fry from his plate and popped it into his mouth. “For the case anyway.”
Kendra let the innuendo slide. She moistened her lips, shouldn’t have stared at his, but it was difficult not to. He had very generous lips for a man. Everything about him was a contradiction. His appearance gave away nothing of his past life. His slow, methodical manner of conversing totally belied his state school academic record. The man was incredibly smart and far more insightful than he apparently wanted anyone to know, including his current partner.
And yet he didn’t seem to get how this was going to play out. “Nothing about this investigation will be simple,” she warned. “This is a community filled with secrets and powerful people who know how to keep the important ones—unless it benefits them somehow to share those secrets. We’ll have to dig deeper and work harder for every single detail.”
Rocky propped his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Good thing neither of us is the type to surrender without a fight.”
She resisted the impulse to recline deeper into the faux leather of the booth to regain those few inches of distance he had claimed. He’d done this at the hotel when he’d insisted on opening the door to her room and seeing her inside before going to his room next door. He’d gotten closer than he’d dared before, had looked her directly in the eyes and spoke quietly as if what he had to say wasn’t to be overheard. That it was somehow intimate. Maybe it was her imagination but she hadn’t noticed him doing that before.
She would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that he’d made her shiver. Something no other man had done with such ease.
Quite possibly she was making too much of it. She’d had zero sleep and Yoni’s murder had her on an emotional ledge. She stared at her untouched food. Her appetite was AWOL. But she needed to eat. Coffee alone wouldn’t keep her on her toes.
She kept replaying every moment of last night’s meeting with Yoni. What had she missed? Had he said anything at all that should have clued her in to the fact that he was in imminent danger?
How could she call herself a private investigator when she’d completely misread the urgency in a potential client she knew so well?
“You shouldn’t beat yourself up.”
Kendra blinked. So now he was a mind reader? “I was just—”
“Thinking how you should have seen this coming?”
Definitely a mind reader. “Maybe.” Surely she’d missed something relevant in last night’s meeting. Something he’d said …
“He failed to tell you everything.”
She wanted to challenge that assessment. To defend her friend … she had known Yoni as well as anyone who’d worked with him could have. But logic told her that Rocky had pegged the situation. Yoni had been worried enough to contact her, to draw her from her new life. Yet he hadn’t once mentioned fear for his safety … only for his professional reputation.
“It’s possible he had no idea the source of the threat would go this far,” she proposed. “Frankly, his murder may prove unrelated to his reasons for coming to me. There’s no way to guess.”
“But you don’t believe that,” Rocky suggested with equal conviction.
“No.” Rocky was her partner in this assignment. Choosing not to be completely honest served no purpose. “I believe there is more … that he didn’t tell me.” It pained her to say as much, but it was true. “If that proves the case, then he had a compelling reason for leaving me in the dark.” Yoni wouldn’t knowingly put anyone in danger.
Rocky pulled out his wallet and dropped payment for their lunch on the table. “All we have to do is determine what that reason was.”
Kendra reached for the check the waitress had left, then for her purse.
“It goes on the same expense log,” Rocky reminded before sliding from the booth.
Giving herself a mental kick for again being slow on the uptake, she scooted across the bench seat and stood. “We should get into position to intercept Castille.”
“Since you know the way, why don’t you drive?” He gestured for her to go ahead of him.
She inhaled a whiff of his aftershave as she turned to go. The scent caught her off guard. She’d spent the last several hours in his company, seated right next to him and it wasn’t until this moment she noticed the earthy masculinity of it. Despite the abundance of food smells surrounding her, his scent abruptly reached out and permeated her senses.
Sleep deprived. Frayed nerves. Too much caffeine.
After a good night’s sleep she would be more herself.
But her friend would still be dead.
Summit Club, 2:50 p.m.
THE BROODING ARCHITECTURE of the exclusive club blended into the row of brick and limestone structures that flanked the tree-lined street far enough from Pennsylvania Avenue to allow some semblance of separation.
Luck appeared to be on Kendra’s side as she leaned against the bar on the side of the expansive dining room opposite the lobby entrance. The afternoon shift bartender who’d worked at the club three years ago was still on staff. He’d not only allowed Kendra and Rocky inside, he’d seated them at the bar with a wide-angle view of the entrance Castille would assuredly use.
“I’m still in shock.” Drea James shook his head as he checked his stock of liquors and whiskeys. “Yoni always made it a point to stop at the bar and say hello whenever he was here.” Drea shrugged,