“Derek,” Lady A muttered without thinking. She shook her head. A cat certainly wasn’t going to help her case. Especially not with this detective, who seemed hell-bent on proving Lady A was guilty. “I have a security system that logs when my doors are unlocked. You can check them.”
“Those can be unlocked from your phone,” Jaime snapped back.Derek. Probably some freeloader that gets off on knowing his woman fucks other people. Fucking Derek.
“You don’t like me much, do you, Detective?”
Jaime almost squirmed under the intense look she was receiving. “I don’t like murder.”
Lady A deliberately licked her lips and watched the beautiful woman’s eyes trail to her lips.Is she more upset that she’s intrigued by a dominatrix or by someone she thinks could be a murderer? Whatever the case, stop thinking how fucking beautiful she is! Good lord, why lust after someone who would rather throw you in jail than date you? Date?! Nope. Not going there.“I have security cameras. They will show I was home all night.” Lady A turned to Max. “I didn’t kill Maisie. I cared about her. Now, I’d like to be alone if there’s nothing else.”
“One more thing.” Jaime was walking a thin line with this woman. If she lawyered up, Jaime would never hear the end of it from Max. So, she made an effort to keep her tone even. “Why do you think Frank lied to you about Maisie?”
Lady A sighed. She desperately wanted to get home to Derek and have a good cry. “You’ve met Frank. All he cares about is money. I assume he lied to me because a big spender here tonight paid ten thousand to be with me.” It was irrelevant that she refused the client. The outcome was still the same. Frank lied to her face without an ounce of regret because of money. “If I’d known about Maisie, I wouldn’t have even shown up today.”
Jaime was sorry she had asked. Ten thousand bucks? How magical was this woman’s pussy? She opened her mouth to say something, but Max moved in front of her, possibly saving her from saying something really stupid. Like, ‘How magical is your pussy?’
“Thank you for your time, Lady A. We’re sorry for your loss.”
Lady A nodded and escorted them to the door. She caught Jaime’s gaze for a brief moment. She couldn’t explain why those dark brown eyes had caused her stomach to flip, not after the interrogation she had just been put through. But there was more behind those eyes than contempt. Including a deep sadness.Notyour problem, Lady A.Her problem now was telling Frank she was leaving without kicking him in the balls for lying to her about Maisie.
Chapter Six
With her blazerslung over the back of her chair, Jaime kicked her feet onto her desk, taking a sip of her lukewarm coffee. Not only was it lukewarm, it was terrible. Cafeteria crap. She dropped the paper cup into the trash can next to her desk, deciding to tackle the jam donut Jackson had left unattended on his desk.Rookie mistake, she grinned.
Detective Richie Jackson was new here, but that didn’t stop Jaime from treating him the same as everyone else. Whether it was ten minutes or ten years, she stole your food. Standard. Except for Max. They had an unspoken rule when it came to one another’s food. There were only two things Jaime trusted him with. Her life… and her fries.
“Fraser!” Jaime chomped on the donut as Max came into the room, jam spilling out of the side as she rocked back in her seat. “I wanna know what you thought of Frankie ten bellies!”
Max grinned. “I’ll tell you when you get the powdered sugar off your nostrils, Baros. Need a napkin?”
Jaime shrugged, scarfing the rest of the donut when Jackson entered only a few seconds after Max.
“Oh, and Jackson is here.”
“Y-yeah.” She almost choked on the sweet treat, turning her head away as she gulped the chunk. Fuck. She almost hadn’t managed that. “So, fat Frank. Thoughts?”
“I don’t know about him.” Max scratched at his chin. “He’s a character, that’s for sure.”
“He’s a pervert.”
“Hey! Where did my donut go?” Jackson shot up from his desk, eyeing Jaime and Max. “It was you, Baros. And don’t deny it!”
“I…would never.” Jaime feigned offense.
“Tell that to the shit on your nose.” Jackson scoffed, dramatically throwing himself back down into his seat. “I was looking forward to that.”
“My blood sugar was off. I…felt woozy.”
Max lifted a brow at that. Yeah, Jaime knew it was a poor excuse, but she’d get Jackson another if it meant so much to him. Jeez.
“Frank is your average creep who owns a brothel, Baros.” He took the case file from his desk, flipping it open to the crime scene photos. “You really think he’s capable ofthat?” Max turned the file, almost sending Jaime’s jam donut back up her throat. “He’d probably have a heart attack before he managed to restrain her.”
Oh, Jaime wasn’t sure about that. People were capable of anything when they really put their minds to it. “I’m not saying he did it. You’re right, he’d have probably sweated all over the body, and we’d have him cuffed by now, but answer me one thing. When we walked in and saw the place, did you expecthimto greet us?”
“I don’t?—”
Jaime swung her legs from her desk, spinning in her seat as she rested her elbows on her knees. “Come on. There’s no way he’s the sole owner of that place. Maybe not even the owner atall. A guy like thatdoes notlook after a brothel so well. Nah, no way. I’m not believing it for a second.”
“Would a different appearance have made you feel better?”
