So About the Money (17 page)

The older woman’s expression changed. Recognition flashed through her dark eyes and color flooded her cheeks. “
Usted
.”

Who, me?
“Yes, ma’am?”

“
¿Qué estás haciendo aquí?
”
 

What am I doing here? Holly blinked in surprise. “I wanted to say how sad—”

The older woman’s eyes narrowed and anger puckered her mouth.
“Si hubiera hecho su trabajo, mi Maricella estaría viva.”
 

If she’d done her job, Marciella would still be alive.
 

Holly gaped at her. “Mrs. Ramirez?” What was she supposed to have done?

The woman rose, four and a half feet of fury.

Holly took a quick step back—straight into a solid body. Her high heels tangled with big feet and she would’ve fallen if arms hadn’t reached around and caught her. Warm, hard hands gripped her, even after she regained her balance. They held her like they meant to hug her for the next lifetime.
 

They also carried the most amazing man-smell.
 

She knew this touch, this smell.

JC
.

She forgot about the past few days, the worry and the grief, and relaxed into his protective embrace. Her body ignored her brain’s “
Move!
” and instead shifted slightly, tucking perfectly into his shoulder. His warm body and subtle cologne wrapped her in a seductive blanket.
 

This feels so right.

About the time she was ready to purr like her mother’s cat, she remembered she was at a wake, in a crowded public place, being yelled at for some reason by an irate Hispanic matron, while practically being cuddled by a man who—
 

Holly bolted upright and whirled around. He seemed reluctant to release her, but she could’ve imagined that along with the rest of the embarrassing episode. Cheeks flaming, she focused her attention on putting some space between them.
 

“You okay? You sorta tripped there.” His warm brown eyes locked onto hers and another jolt rocked her insides.
 

“You changed cologne.”
 

If possible, her cheeks burned hotter.
Great
. That statement had spoken volumes. And he knew he’d gotten to her. She could see it in the satisfied expression on his face, the arrogant jerk.

“A lot’s changed. Not everything, though.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a private smile. “I’d still hate to see you get hurt.”

What was that supposed to mean? She’d had it with his one-liners and innuendo. She nearly snarled something choice, but her grown-up half reminded her,
Handle it later. This isn’t the time or place.
 

“I’m fine.” Her tone could have produced ice cubes. “Thanks for catching me. Of course, you shouldn’t have been standing so close.”

If she’d tripped, it had been over his big feet. She ignored the immediate impish reminder correlating big hands, feet, and other body parts. Why did JC have the ability to turn her into an idiot without uttering a word? He wasn’t even looking at her. His attention was focused on the furious woman behind her.
 

Mrs. Ramirez pushed Holly aside. Tipping her head to look at the tall detective, the diminutive matron punctuated the outpouring of angry words with fierce stabs of her finger at his chest.

Ah. She’d been yelling at JC the whole time.
 

“
No español
.” JC mangled even the simple phrase. He threw a beseeching glance at Holly before returning his attention to the tiny woman in front of him.
 

Marcy’s mother continued her tirade.

 
“Mrs. Ramirez,” he said in the calm tone of voice all cops seemed to use on hysterical people. With a flash of irritation, Holly remembered hearing it from an assortment of uniformed men on Sunday afternoon. “Let’s settle down. Talk this through. What can I do for you?”

He stopped talking, letting Mrs. Ramirez rant, even as people noticed the altercation.
 

“
¿Por qué no detenerlo?
”
 

“Why didn’t you stop him?” Holly automatically translated.
Stop who, from doing what?
 

More heads turned and silence rippled away from the epicenter of Mrs. Ramirez’s wrath. Holly raked a look across the crowded room. The older women surrounding Marcy’s mother watched with crossed arms and pursed lips. The men appeared ready to jump in if JC so much as twitched in the wrong direction.
 

Holly turned back to JC. Somehow, he was lowering Mrs. Ramirez’s volume, taking control of the situation, even in a language he didn’t speak. Mostly he let the older woman vent, but he interjected a phrase—in English—whenever she paused for breath. It was his tone as much as his words. His body language helped. His posture said, “
I’m not a threat
,” while simultaneously staying ready for any hint of violence.

He leaned in Holly’s direction. “Jump in any time.”

“You talking to me?” Holly tried to step back, but a solid wall of bodies blocked her retreat.
 

JC gripped her arm and pulled her closer. His eyes never left Mrs. Ramirez and he continued to nod occasionally. “What’s she saying?”

“Most of it isn’t very nice.”
 

He turned his head at that. A smile lit his face, and her heart-rate—damn its traitorous hide—picked up. “I got that. Trust me, I’ve heard those phrases before.”

“The rest is variations of, ‘If you’d done your job, Marcy would still be alive.’”

A brief grimace clouded JC’s face. “Uh-huh.”

Mrs. Ramirez turned to Holly. “
Silencio. Muestre respeto.
” In rapid Spanish, she berated Holly’s rudeness for interrupting.

She waited for the older woman to take a breath. “
Lo siento. Él no habla español
.” Sorry. The detective doesn’t speak Spanish.

Mrs. Ramirez turned a furious glare on JC. “
Él no lo intenta
.”
 

He didn’t try.
 

Holly kept her comments to herself. JC
had
tried to learn the language. Years ago, she’d helped him pass Spanish 101. She wasn’t sure if Mrs. Ramirez meant his dismal language skills or whatever she thought the police should’ve done to prevent Marcy’s death. Either way, Holly figured she was out of there. People were staring and this was
so
not her problem.
 

She took one step and again felt JC’s warm hand circle her arm. His mouth moved close to her ear. Heat spread, turning her awareness up another notch.
 

“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “I need you.”

Chapter Fifteen

Holly quirked an eyebrow at JC.
Oh, really?

“To translate.”
 

He held onto her arm. Imploring eyes gazed at her…
 

A hum of attraction started in her head and worked its way south. JC’s hand on her arm, the whisper of his words across her ear, his scent, everything about him set off bottle rockets inside her. She gave her imagination the tiniest bit of free rein.
What if…

What she was feeling must’ve shown in her expression, because something hot flashed through JC’s eyes before he pulled on a cop-face—serious, boy scout, you-can-depend-on-me, I’m-a-professional.

Whoa, whoa, whoa
. With a quick inhale, she scrambled to raise her own defenses. This was JC.
So not going there
.

“Please tell Mrs. Ramirez, on behalf of the Franklin County Sheriff’s Department, I want to offer our condolences,” JC recited. “We’re sorry for her loss.”

Biting her lip, she turned to Marcy’s mother. JC’s statement didn’t go far enough. She embellished as she translated.
 

By the end of her speech, Mrs. Ramirez looked mollified. At least she wasn’t still glaring at either of them. A few of the surrounding relatives even nodded approvingly. The crowd wasn’t openly staring, and normal conversation sounds had resumed.
 

Holly was feeling rather pleased with herself when she heard JC’s quiet, “Whew.”

That simple release of tension sent ripples down her spine. He lifted his hand, cupped her shoulder, and pulled her close. The casual intimacy lulled her; his distinctive scent caressed her. She wanted to slide her arms around his waist and sink into his embrace. Shivers shimmied across her breasts and clenched her belly muscles in a wave of pure desire.
 

What the…?
 

She lifted shocked eyes to meet JC’s gaze and saw the same physical reaction in his expression.
 

He released her like she’d burned him.
 

Reality smacked her in the face. She felt as confused as the village simpleton.
 

What the...?
Was she still seriously attracted to him? Not the casual, if you can forget all the bad karma, we had great sex back then, but I’ll never,
ever
, follow up on it fantasies she’d secretly harbored. But the
whoa, this guy totally turns me on
kind of attraction.
 

Was he as interested in her, or was he just trying to get her attention and realized he’d invaded her personal bubble?
 

Did she
want
him to be attracted to her again?

Before she could even begin to sort it out, JC asked, “What did you say to her?”

She blinked, again two beats behind. Wait a minute. She was an intelligent professional.
 

Take a breath and get centered
.
 

“You still can’t speak Spanish?”

Oh, that was brilliant.

One corner of his mouth curled. “I thought that was rather obvious.”

She punched his chest. “Hush. You know what I meant. Let’s get out of here while we can.”

“But—”
 

“Now. While none of Marcy’s relatives are upset with us.”

JC slammed his arms into obstinate male mode. “I need to talk to Mrs. Ramirez.”

“Are you crazy? This isn’t the time to question the woman. Talk to her tomorrow.”
Argh
. “Except the funeral’s tomorrow. Can’t it wait?”

“No. She wants me to figure out who killed her daughter. How am I supposed to do that if nobody will tell me anything about the woman?”

“Didn’t you talk to Marcy’s parents already?”

He blew out an exasperated breath. “I tried. When I got to their house on Sunday, there must’ve been a hundred people inside. Half of them took one look at me and vanished. The rest sat and glared. All I got was Marcy was a saint and nobody wanted to hurt her.”

Of course. He’d had to tell her parents about finding Marcy’s body.
 

A stab of blinding insight hit her.
It was Mrs. Ramirez’s perfume on his coat
. “Damn, I recognize it now.”
 

 
“What are you talking about?”

“When you came by my house Sunday afternoon.” Double head-smack. “Never mind. Look, all you’ll do tonight is make everybody mad again. Get a copy of the guest register and talk to them later.”

JC was watching Mr. Ramirez practically sob on the shoulder of an older man. JC’s own shoulders sagged an inch. “Finding them again will be the problem.”

“How hard can—” she began, and then closed her mouth. She knew nothing about the Ramirez clan. Marcy had moved out of her parents’ neat bungalow, but the extended family could be scattered across eastern Washington. Add in their friends, and the crowd really could be anywhere by tomorrow.
 

“What was I supposed to be doing, anyway?” JC asked, almost as if he were talking to himself.
 

The press of the crowd kept her uncomfortably close to him. Fatigue tightened the skin around his eyes, as though he hadn’t slept since she and Alex found Marcy’s body. He’d missed a small place on his jaw when he shaved. Obviously, he’d cleaned up for the wake, but the tiny patch of stubble made him human.