“Most criminals aren’t masterminds, though,” Ezra continued.“And Charise does have a strong motive.”
“Which is why she’s still on the list,” I conceded.
“Who else is on the list?”Scott asked.
“Callie, of course,” I said.“The spouse is always a suspect.The not-from-Louisville couple, too.I don’t know if they’re hiding something connected to Caldwell’s death, but they’re definitely hiding something.Then there’s Rebecca Hansen?—”
“The security chief?”Gilly interrupted, startled.“Why would she kill him?That’s just more work for her.”
“Good point.”I laughed.“But she pings my gut as someone covering up the truth.Whether it’s to protect corporate interests or for her own reasons, she stays on the list.And lastly, Ramone.”
“Who’s Ramone?”Gilly asked, brows raised.
“He’s a Latin ballroom dance instructor,” I explained.“He came by our table last night to hand out cards.”I gestured between Ezra and me.“We saw him cozying up to Callie in the perfumery yesterday afternoon.”
“That was the guy?”Gilly threw her hands in the air.“Gah!You miss one dinner, and you miss everything.”
“Anyone else?”Pippa asked.
I glanced at Ezra.“Anyone else?”
“You covered it,” he said with a smirk.“And then some.The problem is, we have no proof anyone’s involved.”He rubbed his hands together, eyes twinkling with mischief.“But we’re making a Hail Mary play tonight.Who wants to learn some ballroom?”
Everyone raised their hand.
Dinner had,once again, been delicious.I’d gone for the pork chop with mango salsa this time — the meat tender and juicy, the salsa sweet and tangy with just a hint of heat.The roasted potatoes were buttery and crisp, and the asparagus had a perfect snap.I skipped dessert, though.After the angina scare earlier, I wasn’t about to tempt fate with molten chocolate lava cake.No death by dessert tonight.
Afterward, we all went back to change for the ballroom lesson.Ezra pulled on a pair of dark blue pants that hugged his thighs and backside just right, along with a beige shirt that clung to his broad chest and showed off the definition in his arms.He looked good enough to eat.
“Mmm,” I said, openly admiring him.“You look better than dinner.”
“High praise indeed,” he said, grinning.“You’re pretty tasty-looking yourself.”
“What, this old thing?”I teased, twirling in my black cocktail dress.The bodice dipped low enough to be flirty without crossing into scandalous, and the skirt flared out when I spun, making me feel light and playful.
Ezra caught my hand and pulled me into his arms, spinning me again, this time against his chest.
“Yowza,” I purred.“Are you secretly a dancer, Ezra Holden?And if you are, why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”
“I might’ve done a little West Coast Swing back in my twenties.”
My eyes widened.“You’re kidding me.”
“Not a single bit.”
“This will not be the last time you take me out dancing.”
He grinned.“Duly noted.”He didn’t let go of me, holding me close, swaying us to music only he could hear.
“How are you feeling?”he asked softly.Before I could protest, he added, “Just a question.Don’t read into it.”
“I’m feeling good.”And it was the truth.The nitroglycerin earlier had done its job.No more chest pain, no tightness in my neck, no headache, and I wasn’t even tired.I patted his chest.“Satisfied?”
He kissed me.“More than.”
“And…” I tapped my clutch.“I packed my prescription just in case.”
The corners of his eyes softened, the tension easing from his face.“Then I think we have everything we need.”
