Had Jazel died in Annette’s stead? Annette had been driving the Mustang just minutes before her dear friend’s death.
Another shudder rocked her.
This game had definitely moved to the next level.
Otis agreed. He had called her as soon as one of his low-level contacts in Homicide had passed along the news about Holderfield. He hadn’t mentioned Jazel, though there was certainly no reason for him to. Otis didn’t deal with the little people.
Something had to happen fast. But that wasn’t going to occur unless she focused.
Blocking all other thoughts from her mind save the coming meeting, Annette stepped into the white sandals with their practical heels and reached for the complementary bag. She was taking an extreme risk confronting this particular client. But those kinds of risks were occasionally necessary. This was one of those times. This morning’s deep muscle massage had relaxed her, prepared her for what she must do. Stress undermined control. And that was something she could not lose.
A light rap on her dressing room door preceded Daniel’s entrance. “Ms. Baxter, there is a Lieutenant Lynch here requesting to see you. Deputy District Attorney Tanner is with him.”
Annette glanced at her watch. Bad timing. But she wasn’t at all surprised considering what she had told Tanner last night. She metDaniel’s expectant expression. “Let my twelve o’clock know I might be a few minutes late.”
He wouldn’t like it, but he wouldn’t dare ignore her.
Annette checked her appearance once more. As she spread gloss on her lips, the memory of Carson Tanner’s mouth pressed firmly against hers caused a flare of anticipation low in her belly. She frowned at her reflection. What was it about this man that generated such an uncharacteristic reaction? She could not get the recollections and sensations from that one night out of her head.
Her hand stilled, the gloss applicator clenched in her fingers. She would not allow this weakness. No man would ever again hold dominion over her. Otis respected her, had taught her that she, and she alone, possessed the power over her own destiny.
Carson Tanner represented a necessary asset required to salvage this situation. She did not need or want him for any other reason.
There was nothing special about the man. Her only interest in him was his position.
Annette set the lip gloss aside. The media considered him a hero. That was true. He strove diligently to find justice for all. Very honorable. But in her experience, relying on so-called heroes more often than not turned out to be a mistake. She had learned the hard way not to depend upon anyone but herself.
Not even on Birmingham’s golden boy. He was a means to an end, nothing more.
Mentally bracing for the confrontation, she headed for her business offices. Daniel would have shown the gentlemen to the conference room by now.
She left her bag on the table in the grand foyer she used as a lobby and separation point between her private rooms and her business offices. Upon seeing to this matter, she would need to leave immediately.
Asking her appointment to wait was unavoidable, but he would grow more agitated with each additional minute that passed. It would be wise not to leave him simmering any longer than absolutely necessary.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” She strode into the conference room, her shoulders back, her chin held high. “If you’re here about the Policemen’s Fund Campaign, I’m afraid you’ve caught me at a rather bad time.” Funny, the police worked diligently to tie her to illegal activities, and she organized literally dozens of fundraising campaigns in support of their work. But then, her allegiances along those lines facilitated certain vital contacts. She learned many, many things from those contacts. Times, locations, personnel involvement. Many things.
Both men stood in the middle of the room. Daniel would have offered them a seat; they had clearly declined.
“I’m Lieutenant Lynch, ma’am.” The detective gestured to the brooding man beside him. “This is Deputy District Attorney Tanner. We’re not here about the Policemen’s Fund.”
Obviously neither man was amused by her comment. She glanced at her watch. “I really should be on my way, but I suppose I can spare a few moments.” She shifted her attention from the weary detective with his off-the-rack rumpled suit to the golden boy with the elegant silk ensemble. Carson Tanner’s suit and shoes likely cost more than Lynch’s monthly salary.
Judging by the way Tanner glared at her, he was more than a little pissed off that her prediction had become a reality. She’d warned him. He hadn’t listened. She doubted he would take her other advice about looking into Lana Kimble’s death or about not trusting anyone. So naive.
This was only the beginning.
“Ms. Baxter,” Lynch said, “I have an obligation to inform you of your rights before we begin.”
She inclined her head. “I can’t imagine what this is about, but I understand you have a certain way you’re required to conduct your business. Please proceed.”
Annette listened as Lynch warned her that anything she said could be held against her in a court of law. As she did so, she considered Carson Tanner. Unblinking, he held her gaze. For such a hard-ass, totally focused DDA, he certainly had a hell of a time keeping hispersonal life in control. She supposed that was why he ignored it most of the time. Guys like Carson Tanner were all about work, until the right woman came along and forced them to sit up and pay attention. Then came the march down the aisle and the rug rats. And everything else went to pot.
No thanks.
Some people were simply not intended to be parents. Both she and Carson Tanner fell solidly into that category. Too many demons ... too many skeletons.
She wondered if he understood that about himself just yet.
