“Are you out of your mind?” Alex barked the question as he leaned over into her face. “Do you have any idea what you were doing?”
She blinked, at once innocent and amused. “Research?”
He swore again, and Bess found she liked the way he raked impatient fingers through his thick black hair. “Lady, just how far were you intending to take your research?”
“How—? Oh.” Her eyes brightened with laughter. “Well no, not quite that far.”
“What the hell would you have done if I hadn’t been a cop?”
“I’d have thought of something.” She continued to smile. He had a fascinating face—golden skin, dark eyes, wonderful bones. And that mouth, so beautifully sculpted, even if it did tend to scowl. “It’s my job to think of things. And when I spotted you, I thought you looked safe. What I mean is, you didn’t strike me as the kind of man who’d be interested in...” What was a delicate way of putting it? she wondered. “Paying for pleasure.”
He was so angry he wanted to yank her up and toss her over his lap. The idea of administering a few good whacks to that cute little butt was tremendously appealing. “And if you’d guessed wrong?”
“I didn’t,” she pointed out. “For a minute there, I was worried, but it all worked out. Better than I expected, really, because I had a chance to ride in a—Do you still call them paddy wagons?”
He’d been so sure he’d seen everything. Heard everything. With his temper straining at the bit, he spoke through clenched teeth. “Two hookers are dead. Two who worked that area.”
“I know,” she said quickly, as if that explained it all. “That was one of the reasons I chose it. You see, I plan to have Jade—”
“I’m talking about you,” he interrupted in a voice that had her wincing. “You. Some bubbleheaded hack writer who thinks she can strut around in spandex and a half a ton of makeup, then go home to her nice neighborhood and wash it all off.”
“Hack?” It was the only thing she took offense to. “Look, cop—”
“Youlook. You stay out of my territory, and out of those slut clothes. Do your research out of a book.”
Her chin shot out. “I can go where I want, wearing what I want.”
“You think so?” There was a way to teach her a lesson. A perfect way. “Fine.” He rose, tugged the tote out of her hands, then took a firm grip on her arm. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To holding, babe. You’re under arrest, remember?”
She stumbled in the three-inch heels and squawked, “But I just explained—”
“I hear better stories before breakfast every day.”
“You’re not going to put me in a cell.” Bess was sure of it. Positive. Right up until the moment the bars closed in her face.
It took about ten minutes for the shock to wear off. When it did, Bess decided it wasn’t such a bad turn. She could be furious with the cop—whoever he was—but she could appreciate and take advantage of the unique opportunity he’d given her. She was in a holding cell with several other women. There was atmosphere to be absorbed, and there were interviews to be conducted.
When one of her cellmates informed her that she was entitled to a phone call, she demanded one. Pleased with the progress she was making, she settled back on her hard cot to talk to her new acquaintances.
It was thirty minutes later when she looked up and spotted her friend and cowriter Lori Banes, standing beside a uniformed policeman.
“Bess, you look so natural here.”
With a grin, Bess popped up as the guard unlocked the door. “It’s been great.”
“Hey!” one of her cellmates called out. “I’m telling you that Vicki’s a witch, and Jeffrey should boot her out. Amelia’s the right woman for him.”
Bess sent back a wink. “I’ll see what I can do. Bye, girls.”
Lori didn’t consider herself long-suffering. She didn’t consider herself a prude or a stuffed shirt. And she said as much to Bess as they walked through the corridors, up the stairs and back into the lobby area outside the squad room. “But,” she added, pressing fingers to her tired eyes. “There’s something that puts me off about being woken up at 2:00 a.m. to come bail you out of jail.”
“Sorry, but it’s been great. Wait until I tell you.”
“Do you know what you look like, dear?”
