Without another thought, she turned on the shower, shucked her clothes, and quickly bathed. A half hour later, she was out the door to go and see Austin. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, and didn’t even bother to wear makeup. She wasn’t going to see Austin to impress him. For once since meeting him, she was going to do her job and act like a professional detective and not a love-struck schoolgirl!
When she arrived at the hotel, it surprised her that she didn’t have that giddy feeling that made her palms sweat and her heartbeat hammer like an out-of-control cheetah…on steroids. Had her feelings for him disappeared so quickly? She hoped so. Being hung up on him would certainly put a damper on her life if she decided to start dating again.
She didn’t know if he’d be home, but she had to take the chance that he would. On the elevator ride up to the penthouse suite, she rehearsed the words she’d say. No matter what, she couldn’t allow him to sweet-talk her, or charm her the way he’d done before.
When the elevator reached the floor and the door opened, right away she heard voices. As she cautiously stepped out into the hallway, she noticed a man talking with Austin. From what she could see, it appeared as if the man was just leaving.
Austin’s gaze met hers, and he stopped talking. The expression on his face was unreadable, but she did notice he wasn’t smiling as he’d been doing a moment ago.
The man glanced at her, and then muttered, “I’ll see ya later.” With his head down, he hurried past Brittany and entered the elevator. She really only got a glimpse of him as he rushed by her, mainly because she couldn’t stop looking at Austin. He wore a gray suit with a lavender shirt—minus the tie. He stood still as she walked toward him, and for some odd reason, her heart decided to pick up rhythm this time. Dang! Why couldn’t she stay in control for once?
Something in the back of her head tugged at a memory. In an instant, the face of the man who’d been visiting with Austin flashed through her head, meeting with another memory of the same face.The Original Pancake House!That’s where she’d seen him…and he’d been with a blonde bombshell…the same woman who was the ditzy receptionist at Isabella’s Escort Service.
Gasping, she stopped and swung around toward the elevator. The doors were closed, and the machine was already taking the man downstairs. She snapped around back to Austin and pointed toward the elevator. “Who was that man?”
“You don’t know?”
“I’ve never met him, but I’ve seen him once before. Who is he?”
“That’s my friend, Derek.”
Finally, puzzle pieces started fitting together. Excitement shot through her, the same way it had always done when she was about ready to solve a crime. “Austin, forgive me for coming without letting you know first, but…I think I might have just found the man who is trying to make you look like a killer.”
His forehead creased, and then seconds later, his eyes widened. His gaze moved toward the elevator.
“Derek? You think my friend is trying to set me up?”
“I know it sounds strange, but…” She sighed deeply and shifted her feet. “Austin, tell me something. Have you ever given your penthouse key to anyone?”
“No.”
“Not even Derek?”
“No. The only other person who has my key is my maid.”
Brittany paused in thought, still trying to fit all the pieces together. “Tell me, Austin, how did you meet your maid?”
“She’s friends with—” His voice trailed off as color seeped from his face.
“With Derek?” Brittany finished for him.
He nodded. “But Derek has no reason to want to set me up. He didn’t even know Hillary that well.” Austin turned back into his suite and walked to the liquor bar. He quickly grabbed a glass and the bottle of bourbon. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, I don’t drink.”
He threw her a scowl over his shoulder. “Those few times I poured you a glass, you didn’t drink it?”
She shook her head.
He rolled his eyes and turned back to pouring his drink. “And yet you accuse me of lying to you,” he muttered before tossing back the drink and swallowing hard.
How rude!And yet, he was accurate. Apparently, they’d both been hiding things from each other.
He cleared his throat. “Where did you see Derek before?”
“Kurt and I discovered that Hillary had breakfast with someone atThe Original Pancake Housethe morning before she was killed. We’d gone there to ask questions. I noticed a man and woman seated, but it was the way the man kept trying to keep his face hidden from me that made me curious. When he and his woman friend left, they both looked like they didn’t want us looking at them. And,” she stepped closer to him, “you’ll never guess where I just remember seeing the woman.”
He shrugged. “Where?”
