Vaughn made no reply, but Cassidy could feel his dark gaze following them as they walked out of the room.
Chapter Seventeen
“I probably should have been a little more diplomatic,” Beau said as he opened the passenger door and waited for Cassidy to settle herself in the seat.
She looked up at him. “You’re kidding? Really?”
He slammed the door and rounded the car to the driver’s side, slid in behind the wheel and fired the engine. “So I baited him a little. Maybe it’ll stir something up. I don’t know what it was, but I didn’t like him. I felt like he was telling us part of the truth but not all, like he was leaving something out.”
“Malcolm Vaughn brokers big-money deals. The men who bankroll his loans are the kind who can make people disappear. You should have stuck with your story, Beau, that you were clearing up your father’s accounts. You shouldn’t have said you were investigating his murder.”
She was right, but he didn’t like hearing it. He wasn’t used to someone else calling the shots, even if he respected that person’s opinion.
“Maybe not, but we were getting nowhere and I warned you before—I’m not a patient man.”
She flicked him a sideways glance. “Except in bed.”
He looked at her, saw the amusement in her eyes. A curl of heat settled low in his groin and a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, except in bed.”
Just thinking about it had his blood rushing south. He glanced at Cassidy, spotted an unruly curl at the base of her neck, and wanted to nudge it aside with his tongue. He wondered what she’d say if he pulled into the Adolphus, took a suite, and hauled her back to bed.
Inwardly he sighed. Not going to happen. He was a suspect in two murders.
“It’s too late to worry about it now,” he said. “And you never know, maybe Vaughn will panic and do something stupid. Maybe we’ll actually get a break in the case.”
Her brow arched, warning him not to get his hopes up. “Let’s go back to your house. We need to take a look at the bank records on that other flash drive. We’ve got a little more information now. Maybe we can make more sense of what we see.”
But when he neared the driveway, he spotted the media, out in full force. He said the F-word under his breath, then glanced at Cassidy. “Sorry.”
“They would have shown up sooner or later. I’m surprised they waited this long.”
“The bad weather probably helped for a while.” He muttered another swear word. “I need your phone.” He turned the corner before anyone spotted the car, and pulled over beneath the spreading branches of a magnolia tree.
Cassidy handed him her cell and Beau called Marty Chen. “I need you to get some security over to my house ASAP. There’s media all over the place. I’ll need men round the clock, at least for a while.”
“They’re already there. Should be a couple of black SUVs parked out front. Oh, and I brought back the Lamborghini. Rob drove Ms. Jones’s car back.”
“Great. Anything else?”
“A detective named Briscoe called the office earlier this morning. He said they’d gotten what they needed off your cell phone. I picked it up at the police station on my way out of town. You’ll find it in your car.”
“Thanks, Marty. Can you call whoever’s in charge at the house and tell them we’re coming in?”
“His name’s Will Egan, works for Citywide Security. I’ll give him a call.”
Marty hung up and Beau turned to Cassidy. “Security’s in place. They’ll clear the way for us. Marty also brought back our cars.”
“That’s great. I have some errands I really need to run.” A smile curved her lips. “Marty seems superefficient. I hope you pay him well.”
“I pay him a small fortune and he’s worth every dime.” He pulled the car away from the curb. “He even retrieved my cell phone.”
“On second thought, no matter what you’re paying him, I think he deserves a raise.”
Beau chuckled and drove the car down the street toward the house. Two black SUVs sat on the road opposite the driveway while four uniformed men urged the crowd of reporters out of the way as the Beamer approached. Beau ignored the shouted questions, nudged aside a few persistent reporters with the bumper of the car, and turned up the drive while the guards fell in behind the vehicle, blocking the way.
A few seconds later, he drove past Cassidy’s silver Honda hatchback, sitting out front.
“Marty is a prince,” she said. “I’ve got things I really need to do.”
