The Rogue Reviewer (Primrose, Minnesota Book 3) (6 page)

Sara practically bounced as she led them down
a hallway and then into a room at the very end. A variety of bright
orange and blue geometrical shapes covered each wall, not to
mention the pillows on the two white sofas and matching chairs.
Vibrant, just like the author’s personality.

“So, any word from the police?” Sara took an
opposite chair and folded her legs beneath her.

“Zip. Nada. Zilch.” Dara shook her head as
she answered. “I’m not entirely convinced they know where to
start.”

“Funny how we’re usually one step ahead.”

She silently agreed. Somehow
plotting
a murder just didn’t seem to fit Mace’s usual m.o. “I can’t for the
life of me figure out how a murderer entered my house.”

“Let’s go about this a different way. How
your suspect got inside is still a mystery but the fact remains
that he got in.”

She raised an eyebrow. “He?”

“Was the scene messy?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Then I’d bet your suspect is most likely
male.” Sara tilted her head to one side. “I only know a few men
who’ve received Evelyn’s attention. What about your maintenance
man?”

“Griffin is one creepy little guy,” Marnie
answered.

“Do you suspect him?”

Dara shrugged. “As far as I know he doesn’t
have access to my unit.”

“What about the head of the Homeowner’s
Association? Male or female?”

“Male but I’ve never seen him or interacted
with him.”

“Okay, what about a stalker?”

Dara paused. “I have received a few e-mails
from a devoted reader, but I have no idea if the author is male or
female.”

“What about the content?”

“Nothing but complimentary.”

Sara twisted her lips, almost as if
perplexed. “Well, Evelyn obviously ticked off someone. Her wicked
tongue finally got the best of her.”

“She reviewed me, you and Georgette Swanson.
I have an airtight alibi with four witnesses to back me, and I
happen to know you do too.”

“You saw the morning paper.”

“Yes, and congratulations on your achievement
award.”

“Thanks, but I only attended the banquet
because my agent insisted.” Sara unfolded her legs. “Although I
will admit I’m grateful he did. I only
write
murder.”

“I don’t know how you guys do this.” Marnie
rubbed her brow with one hand. “My mind is spinning.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult,” Dara
admitted.

“Yes,” Sara agreed, “but we always know who
committed the crime and why.”

“I hate to run but we’ve got several stops.”
Dara stood and Marnie followed suit. “Thanks for the help, Sara. At
least we all agree on one thing – our suspect is male.”

“I’m as sure as I can be about that.” The
author followed them out of the room and back down the hallway
until she opened the door. “Feel free to call if I can help.”

Once she and Marnie sat buckled safely behind
the closed door of her Lexus, her friend released a heavy breath.
“Geez! I think she fractured my ribs!”

Dara giggled at Marnie’s brutal honesty. “I
tried to warn you.”

“There wasn’t a remote chance of escape,
Dara.”

“Probably not,” she admitted, “but at least
we did draw the conclusion the killer is male.”

“I’m not sure I feel better having that
information, and I may regret asking this but, what now?”

“We go see Chad.”

“Chad? Why?”

“To cement our alibi. We need to make
absolutely sure his cameras recorded our meeting.” She glanced out
the window, not surprised to see a familiar approaching vehicle.
“Here comes the cavalry.”

Marnie groaned. “You promised me we wouldn’t
be arrested.”

“We won’t be arrested, just
interrogated.”

“Again.”

“Stop being paranoid.” Dara sighed and rolled
down her window as the driver pulled the car up next to her
vehicle. “Detectives,” she drawled.

“Mace’s eyes sparkled in the sunlight, from
anger or curiosity she didn’t know. “Ladies.”

“Are you tailing me?”

“Nope, I see it more like preventing you from
interfering in my investigation.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking
about.”

“Something tells me you’re here to discuss
murder.”

She threw him a mental
duh.
“I am.
Sara and I both write it.”

“
Evelyn Wallace’s
murder.”

“Actually, we didn’t discuss Evelyn at all.”
Well, almost not at all.

“Out.”

As soon as he placed his hand on the chrome
door handle, she clicked the doors locked. “I have an
appointment.”

“It can wait.”

“How do you know?” She tapped her fingernails
against the steering wheel, almost expecting him to say he knew her
full itinerary for the afternoon.

Instead, he gestured with his head at the
door handle. “Out,” he repeated.

She huffed while she released the locks. “You
have an annoying habit of telling me what to do,” she pointed out
as she left the car and shut the door.

“Yet you refuse to do as I say.”

“And you like it.”

“Come again?”

She folded her arms across her chest and
leaned back against the car door. “Face it. I challenge you.”

“And you think that’s smart on your
part?”

She didn’t take the opportunity to point out
that his question did little to dispute her accusation. “Absolutely
brilliant,” she answered instead.

From inside the car, Marnie giggled and then
cleared her throat.

He mirrored her posture and she fought the
urge to follow Marnie’s lead. A stand-off between smart and well,
smarter.

After several seconds, smart gave in. “This
is
my
investigation, Dara. A
police
investigation
that does not require your assistance.”

“I’m well aware, Detective.”

“Then I’ll assume I won’t find you
questioning any more suspects.”

“Sara and I simply talked shop.”

She didn’t have to work hard to interpret his
perfectly obvious
yeah, right
expression but little did he
know she actually spoke the truth – by omission. She shifted her
weight from one hip to the other, ready to issue yet another
challenge, when she intercepted a spark in those magnificent eyes
that warned her not to play her whole hand.

“We haven’t made an arrest.” He unfolded his
arms, reached for the door handle, and opened the door. “Until we
do, it might be a good idea for you to lie low.”

“Scare tactics won’t work with me.” She hoped
he wouldn’t notice her shaky hands as she grasped the steering
wheel while she climbed into the car. Of course he’d remind her a
killer was still loose.

“Simple truth. The investigation is fresh. No
clear-cut suspect or motive, only a victim and a weapon.” He moved
his gaze to Marnie as he closed the door. “Both of you could be in
severe danger.”

“Point taken, Detective.” She rolled up her
window and turned the key to start the car’s engine before he
witnessed Marnie’s inevitable breakdown. Luckily, her friend held
it together.

With a nod of his head, he signaled for his
partner and pointed to Sara’s front door. He gave her one more hard
stare and then turned away.

“Maybe he’s right, Dara,” Marnie said. “We
don’t really know why someone left you a corpse.”

“Exactly why we’re not giving up.” She moved
the indicator to turn left, determined not to let him sway her
decision to participate. “Despite Detective Turner’s warning.”

***

Not more than an hour later, Mace entered
Hannigan’s with Jackson, fully expecting to find a familiar female
presence in the middle of his investigation.
Surprise,
surprise.
Mace paused just inside the door, his gaze zeroed in
on the two women tucked into a corner booth, one of them extremely
cozy with the bleach-blonde male who sat next to her – the same man
who draped his arm across the back of the booth behind her with his
fingers inches from her shoulder. Any minute now, he expected him
to jump up and deliver a perfect
What’s up, dude?

Jackson cleared his throat beside him.
“Coincidence?”

“Like hell.”

“Hannigan?”

“Most likely.”

“Ladies have skills.”

“Hardly, just luck.”

“Think they came to get their stories
straight?”

Mace pried his gaze from the female whose
soft voice caused his libido to dance and pointed at the ceiling.
“Most likely not. There are cameras all over this place that can
prove or disprove their alibi in a matter of minutes.”

“Want me to take Hannigan so you can attempt
to corral them?”

He frowned. “Attempt?”

“I make that statement based on past
experience.”

“No, I’ll question Hannigan. You keep the
girls company.”

Jackson gave him a lopsided grin. “Have it
your way, partner.”

He was careful to keep his temper in check as
he and Jackson approached the booth. As much as he contemplated
yanking Hannigan from the booth by the scruff of his neck, assault
would tarnish his badge. That particular thought almost stopped him
in his tracks. Personal feelings aside, until he ruled her out
completely Dara was still somewhat of a suspect and he had
absolutely no business expressing his interest in her. But
damn
, the lady had a multitude of sass and that attribute
alone made him hard – crazy hard.

Her earlier statement about challenge was
every bit the truth – the banter they shared kept him stimulated to
the point of electrified. And, the amount of intelligence she
possessed in her little finger damn near outweighed the knowledge
of even the most seasoned detective. Yeah, Dara Hamilton might be
tiny, but she packed a punch ten times as loud and blinding as a
bundle of dynamite.

Jackson cleared his throat beside him.
“Ladies, mind if I join you?”

Dara batted those long, black eyelashes and
he grasped the back of the booth to remain upright.

“Sure,” she answered. “What about you,
Detective Turner?”

“No, thank you.” He directed a hard stare at
the only male occupant in the booth. “Mr. Hannigan, I’d like to ask
you some questions.”

He led the way to a lone table in one corner
of the bar and waited for Hannigan to take a chair before sitting
opposite him.

“Detective Mace Turner.” He extended a hand,
careful not to give in to the temptation to break Hannigan’s
fingers while they shook an introduction. “I’m investigating the
murder of Evelyn Wallace. I’d like to know what you know.”

“Not much – only what I’ve read in the paper
or heard on the news.”

“How many employees are on your payroll?”

“I have three waiters, six waitresses, four
cooks, and one bartender other than myself.”

“That’s quite a staff. How’s your
turnover?”

“Not bad. Most of my employees have been with
me over a year.”

“How are they paid?”

“Hourly, plus tips. Any tips they earn are
theirs alone.”

“Any big tippers lately?”

“Not to my knowledge. My business operates
mostly on repeat customers. We work hard to keep them coming
back.”

“How often are you here?”

“Every day except Wednesday.”

“Do you tend bar when you’re here?”

“I work several shifts to relieve the staff,
but I also work the floor to assure customer satisfaction.”

“How well do you know Dara?”

“She and her friends have been regulars for
about three years.”

“Do you consider her a friend?”

“Yes.”

“A close friend?”

“Yes.”

He paused half a second to make sure his
professional composure remained intact before he asked the next
question.

“How close?”

“Close enough to know she didn’t have
anything to do with murder.”

“She claims she was here last Thursday at the
time of the murder.”

“I can vouch for her and everyone else with
her, for that matter.”

“Do you have any proof other than your
word?”

“There are six video cameras in this room and
one of them just happens to hang over the booth the girls normally
use.”

“Would you be willing to turn the tapes over
as evidence?”

“Gladly.”

Mace slid his notebook back inside his shirt
pocket and purposely grasped the pen in his fist, one finger on the
clicker. “Thank you, Mr. Hannigan, I’ll be in touch about the
tapes.”

“Sure.” The other man shrugged as he turned
his head and gave Dara an
I-wanna-get-you-naked
grin across
the room. “Dara’s a good friend. Anything I can do to help.”

He didn’t miss the grin Dara shot back at
Hannigan.
Friendly, my ass.

Mace stood and walked the heated distance
back to the booth while his thumb worked the end of his pen. Green
polka dots colored his vision, not because of the heated exchange
between Chad and Dara – no, the man deserved a medal for causing
the rosy blush on her cheeks – Mace just wished he’d been the one
to cause the reaction.

He waited a full three seconds, making
perfectly sure the other man was out of earshot before he turned
his gaze back to Dara. He swallowed hard at the mischievous grin
she now wore on those full pouty lips. Lips colored with a slight
baby pink tint that reminded him of cotton candy. Lips that he
would bet his badge tasted just as soft and sweet.

“Stop,” she said into the silence, “you’re
making me nervous.”

Mace blinked several times to clear his
vision, while he mentally kicked himself in the ass for getting
caught in lustful appreciation.

“Sorry,” he mumbled while he gave the pen
another snap.

She placed her hand over his and electricity
shot straight to his groin. His cock gasped, then stretched.

“The pen.” She raised both eyebrows as if she
silently demanded to know what the hell caused his apology.