April rose beside him. “I’m going back home. I just...need to be home.”
“Give me your address and phone number.”
“Of course.” She pulled a business card out of her purse, turned it over and wrote her personal information on the back.
She handed him the card. “Thank you for helping me, Mr....Jonah.”
“We’ll figure this out, April.”One way or another.He didn’t tell her that if she was guilty, he’d figure that out, too. So far the story didn’t make any sense. If she shot David Dean, why was she still in the house, lying in bed next to him?
Turning, April walked out of the conference room. Jonah watched her long legs in those five-inch heels and the sexy sway of her hips, and an image of her naked in bed popped into his head.
If Dean was a straight red-blooded male, there was no question he’d want her.
Jonah wondered how much of what she’d just told him was the truth, how much she’d left out. How much more she would eventually recall.
How much the police knew about the incident that April didn’t.
On the surface, drugs or alcohol had to be part of the equation. Someone could have roofied the beer she was drinking at the Derby. It would explain the lengthy blackout. The cops would have tested her. He needed to know the results, and he needed to know if Dean had been drugged, as well.
For a number of reasons, he wanted to believe she was telling the truth—at least as far as she remembered. Foremost being she was a friend of Maddie and Ross, who were two of his closest friends.
Jonah sighed as he returned to his desk. If he wanted to find out what had happened, he had plenty to do. As a PI, he knew his way around the Internet. In the age of information, you could find anything if you looked hard enough.
Add to that, Maximum Security had its own secret weapon. Chase’s computer guru, Tabitha Love—her real name—was twenty-seven years old, near genius IQ and about half crazy. She’d never gone to college, never had a steady job and never wanted one. She wasn’t your average employee, but if you needed information, Tabby was the one who could find it.
Jonah didn’t need Tabby’s skills to get the basics on April Vale. It was amazing what a simple Google search could tell you. Taking a seat at his desk, he typed in her name, pulled up several articles about her.
April Marie Vale was twenty-nine years old, born and raised in Dallas. No siblings. Mother and father divorced, father deceased, mother living in California. April had put herself through college, graduated from the University of Texas with a bachelor’s degree. Never been married.
Jonah went into Facebook, found her page and a photo of her smiling face, a few freckles on the bridge of her nose. There were photos of her as a kid, and pictures of her as the young woman she had grown into. He had always been attracted to redheads. April’s gorgeous curls had him craving her even more.
There were pictures of April with Maddie Townsend and one with Maddie and Ross and their new baby. Pictures of her with other friends in Dallas. There were photos of her with Mayor Mark Rydell and a string of local politicians.
He searched Twitter, LinkedIn, Pinterest, all the social media sites, picked up bits and pieces here and there.
Once he had the basics on April, he did a thorough search of the murder victim. David Dean was a single man, thirty-nine years old, from an upper-class Dallas family, attractive in the photo on his profile. Sterling reputation, no ex-wives, no current girlfriends. Earned a larger than average campaign manager’s salary working for Rydell.
No photos of Dean with April Vale. No former relationship with her that he could find. Which didn’t mean she hadn’t gone home with him to have sex that night. They were two adults. If April wanted to screw the guy, there was no law against it.
Killing the guy was an altogether different matter.
He spent the rest of the day digging up information. By this time tomorrow, he intended to know everything there was to know about April Vale and David Dean.
He tried to make sense of her story but so far the puzzle pieces didn’t fit. The cops had to have a working theory. If they knew something April didn’t, he needed to know what it was.
Late in the afternoon, he called Detective Heath Ford, a friend on the Dallas PD. Jonah had been an undercover cop before he went private. He and Heath had a history and it was a good one, but Heath wasn’t in. Jonah left a message knowing Heath would call him back.
In the meantime he went to work trying to find a motive for April to kill David Dean.
Unfortunately, as he worked from his apartment that night, Jonah found one.
SITTING AT THEkitchen table sipping a cup of Cozy Chamomile tea she hoped would help her sleep, April jerked upright at the pounding on her door.
A memory arose of the police rushing into David’s bedroom, of the man lying dead beside her. Her pulse raced, began to thunder. She pulled her white terry-cloth robe a little tighter and cinched the belt.
Hurrying across the deep gray carpet in the living room, she peered through the peephole and relaxed at the sight of Jonah Wolfe in worn jeans, a black T-shirt and a pair of black motorcycle boots standing on her porch.
Her fear receded and she opened the door, but the grim look on his face had a fresh jolt of worry pouring through her.
