Authors: Lynde Lakes
She noticed the nervous tick at the corner of Sammy’s left eye. Newcomb’s name had been on the lease. “You’re into videos too.” Her statement sent a flicker of wariness to his eyes. Then he flashed a grin.
“Yeah.”
Was his wide smile forced?
“Anything on film or in print lights my fire. I’m technically Gordy Angelo’s assistant in the studio. He’s sorta my mentor. I’m learning a lot from him and the guys.” He raked a wave pompadour of carroty hair and shifted his weight. After several seconds, he lifted a cocky brow. “Dane told me about you.”
His suggestive tone and glibness bothered her.
Go slow, agent
. Dammit, she had to be wary of her habit of quickly sizing people up. A wrong assumption could be deadly
.
Jill shook hands and smiled, but her mind wasn’t on pleasantries. She studied his strong, square hands—
they could be those in the film.
She looked up and met his amused gaze. “I want to talk to you about what happened at the studio. And about your work there.”
His expression hardened.
Was there a hint of hostility in those gray eyes?
“I’ve been expecting someone from your office,” he said too smoothly. “I’ll be happy to tell you what I know. Anything to clear Dane.” He patted Dane on the back affectionately. “Can we meet downstairs over coffee in about fifteen minutes? Renzo is waiting for this.” He gestured with the thick file in his hand.
“This isn’t social and I’m on a tight schedule. We’re on our way to the conference room. Meet me there ASAP.” She watched him retreat down the hall. “How long has he worked here?”
“I don’t know. Time passes so quickly.”
Her stomach tightened. She was well aware of time ticking away, felt every fleeting second. “Right. I’ll check with personnel.”
“Do that. But he’s not your Snuff Video Killer, Agent Grayson.”
She wasn’t so sure.
Dane propelled her forward, taking her past several closed doors. He flipped on the lights as they entered the small conference room with a table and six chairs. His eyes slid lazily down her body, paused at her waistline, then idly wandered back to her face.
Jill met his invasive look with narrowed eyes, then she glared down at his lingering grip on her arm.
Dane slowly let her go. He looked her up and down again, his gaze burning through her clothes, searing her skin—his cynical brown eyes assessing everything. “You bring some interesting lines and curves to the FBI regulation dark suit, Agent Grayson.”
“You don’t think much of the FBI, do you?”
“Less than that.” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you here to stir up trouble?”
“You said you were in a video class with my sister. I need a list of Tess’ friends, acquaintances, recent hangouts. I have to find her before the killer does.”
Jill met his sardonic gaze. “Look, Clark, my sister is missing and I don’t have time for games. I thought since you knew Tess, you might know if she’s been seeing anyone new.”
He raised an accusing brow. “You ought to know that better than I do since you’re related and all.”
She lifted her chin, meeting his piercing gaze. “It’s to your benefit to cooperate, Mr. Clark.”
“Tess and I knew some of the same people at the university. At least those in the video class. But she’s a popular girl.” He shook his head. “Hard to keep up with her dating life. But I did suspect that she’d been seeing someone special for about a month. I figured he was married because she was so closed-mouthed about him.”
“Tess wouldn’t fool with a man who had a wife.”
What am I doing? I don’t have to defend Tess to this reporter.
She cleared her throat. “I obtained a list of the students in the video class from the university.” She drew the list from her purse and offered it to him. “If you’ll just check off those people Tess was the closest to, I’ll take it from there.”
“I’ll do better than that,” he said. “I’ll go with you and introduce you around. I have a class at noon. Tess will probably be there. She’s never missed one.”
Jill’s hopes leaped. Then she frowned and leaned against the conference table. She didn’t want Dane going with her. She wanted him to back off the story altogether. She didn’t need him snooping around, maybe tipping off the killer. “I appreciate your offer but—”
“Look,” he interrupted, “this isn’t just a story anymore. Charmaine meant too much to me. And I don’t want Tess to end up like Charmaine.”
Jill winced. “That’s admirable, but this is an FBI investigation, Mr. Clark. Stay out of it.”
“I’m already in up to here, Ms. Grayson.” He gestured with his hand to about a foot over his head. “Yesterday I was your prime suspect, and until Charmaine’s killer is caught I’ll have that hanging over me. I want to be completely cleared.” He raised a sardonic brow. “And an apology for making me spend a miserable, sleepless night in jail.”
“Of course,” she said sweetly, “when it snows in Hades.” He deserved an apology, but as arrogant as he was, it would never come from her.
He squared his shoulders. “
The Chronicle
wants this story. And I’m going to give it to them.”
“Don’t try it.” Anger flashed in his brown eyes. “Not if you want this kept under wraps a while longer. I could spread what I have all over the front pages today.”
“Blackmail doesn’t work with me, Mr. Clark. I could get a gag order from a judge so fast it’ll make your ink run.”
“You know what you can do with your threat of protective custody and gag order, Ms. FBI. This is a big story. You can’t stop me from going after it.”
“I won’t have a reporter interfering with my investigation and putting my sister in greater danger.”
“Look, I wouldn’t do anything to increase the danger to your sister. Let’s start again. We can help each other. We can’t afford to be enemies—we want the same thing. I want Tess back and I can help find her. I’ve been investigating reports of snuff murders for almost a year. Written stories about them. I have people working with me, giving me leads.”
Her gaze locked with his. “You have leads? Tell me.”
“Then what?” His dark smoldering eyes challenged her.
Then get out of the way and let me do my job.
“Then, we’ll see. Tell me what you know.”
“Not so fast. Do we have a deal here, or not?”
What was his involvement in the case? He’d been making videos, sharing that studio. She shook her head. “I appreciate your offer but—”
“I’m in this all the way.” His jaw tightened stubbornly.
“What you mean is, you’d be in the way.”
“Come on, Agent Grayson, give a little here. If we join our efforts and analyze what each of us already knows, we could save time, find Tess and nail this guy before there are more murders like Charmaine’s. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“I don’t need you for that.”
“You’re willing to pass up immediate progress in the case for the sake of your FBI ego?” He shook his head. “Lady Fed, this is your sister we’re talking about.”
“You’re stepping over the line, Mr. Clark.”
I hate this man.
Dane tapped his temple. “A year’s research up here. Think about it. I know the workings of the video underground. And most of Tess’ friends. How can you pass that up?”
Jill frowned. She’d worked with unpleasant people in unpleasant situations and rather than dodge the challenge, she’d always welcomed it. But she’d never encountered anyone who had gotten under her skin so quickly.
“FBI investigation doesn’t work that way.”
“I get it,” he said in a voice sharp with contempt, “your boss has forbidden you to work with me. I should have known—the FBI is notorious for making puppets out of their agents.”
Jill curled her fingers until her nails dug into her palms. She counted to ten.
Take it easy
, she told herself. Sometimes the Bureau found it necessary to use civilians. Besides, to find Tess, she’d be willing to deal with the Devil
. I can give it a try.
It could be a chance to learn more about his involvement with the studio. And the involvement of the others. “You win. Just let me talk to Sammy and we’ll go.”
Shock, then a triumphant look crossed his face. “One thing. No one at the university knows I’m a reporter. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
She met his gaze. “And let’s keep it quiet that I’m with the FBI and Tess’ sister. If the killer doesn’t know, I’d rather he didn’t. He might use her to make me back off.”
Idiot
. She felt a surge of relief when Sammy came through the doorway. At least, his timing was good. “Glad you’re back,” she said, checking her watch.
“I’m two minutes early” he said, grinning. “Now, considering we’re both on the clock, I’ll make this quick and easy for you. I’ve been thinking about it, Agent Grayson, and frankly I don’t spend much time at the studio and know less than nothing about what goes on there. But Professor Craig Mansell is the big cheese who has his fingers in all of the pies. And he really digs the models. You know your business, but perhaps a little talk with him might speed up your investigation.”
“Right, but I’m not through with you, Mr. Newcomb, but we can talk another time. Perhaps at headquarters. Call me if you think of anything that might help.” She handed him her card.
He glared at it, then her. “Sure, Agent Grayson. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to type up some stuff for the evening edition.” He whirled and left the room like the Devil was on his heels.
Dane smiled and shook his head. “That went well. You’re a charmer when it comes to interrogation.” He gripped her arm possessively and grinned as they headed for his car.
“I will—after I talk to Tess. But right now, let’s concentrate on you. You claimed no one knew you were a reporter, but last night you told me Charmaine knew.”
“She was the only one.”
Was he changing his story...lying? If so, what else had he lied about?
Somewhere in the distance, near the alley adjacent to the Chronicle offices, Jill heard a powerful motor rev to life. Beyond the chain link fence someone honked a horn. Both were normal sounds for a busy weekday in the city, but today the noise intensified her sense of urgency to find Tess.
Chapter Ten
Dane felt Jill stiffen. Did she notice something he didn’t? Or did she suddenly regret joining forces with him? They’d been walking quite a distance. He didn’t realize until that moment that he’d parked so far from the
Chronicle
building. After they’d passed about six rows of parked employees’ cars, she asked, “Where did you park, Siberia?”
He couldn’t stop a chuckle. “Just ahead.”
He had a ridiculous urge to kiss this stiff-backed FBI agent. Her airy jasmine fragrance didn’t match her fire. Sunlight glistened on her caramel hair, highlighting it with threads of reddish-gold, and when she looked up at him with those large, blue eyes, the thick mane gently brushed her shoulders. An unexpected warmth hummed in his chest. What would this woman have been like if he’d met her under different circumstances?
A pang of guilt struck him. He’d treated her appallingly, like a guy on the make, but the hours in interrogation had filled him with a simmering resentment that begged for revenge, and he couldn’t help giving her a hard time. The trouble was, he liked her, and that was dangerous as hell.
What was going on in her head? Maybe he’d missed something. Perhaps she wasn’t here about Tess, or at least not in the way she claimed. Her visit could be a trap. What if the Feds had new evidence in Charmaine’s murder that pointed to him?
He went over their conversation last night, remembering how Jill’s large blue eyes had been serious and void of any cordiality. She had withdrawn a pen and pad from her bag and poised, ready to take notes. “About Tess,” she had said, touching the top of her pen to her lips, lips just full enough to be intriguing. Such an incredibly sensual gesture for a no-nonsense FBI agent.
How could he think about the eyes and lips of the woman responsible for him spending a miserable, sleepless night in interrogation? Damn, she had him going and he didn’t like it.
****
Jill frowned. Dane had said the car was just ahead. Was he toying with her, wasting her time? He passed several more rows of vehicles in the
Chronicle’s
parking lot. His hand on her elbow was warm and entirely too possessive. She was about to pull away, when he stopped at a badly dented, rust-eaten white Simca.