LITMIR.BIZ

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Cortez rescued me from a marauding band of reporters.”

      Giving Quinn a harsh look, the other man held out his hand to Annabelle as he focused all his attention on her. “I’m Sergeant Chad George, ma’am. My partner and I are the detectives in charge of the investigation into your cousin’s death.”

      “Her death? I was told she was murdered.”

      “Yes, ma’am, she was,” Chad said. “Allow me to offer you my condolences.”

      “On behalf of the Memphis police department?” Quinn asked. “Or are you offering Ms. Vanderley your personal condolences, sergeant?”

      Annabelle sensed a hostile tension between the two men as they glowered at each other. And she had the oddest sensation that, for the moment, she was the prize in this particular battle of wills.

      “Both,” Chad said sharply, then softened his voice when he spoke again. “Ms. Vanderley, if there’s anything I can do for you…”

      “I would like to speak to you and your partner and anyone else involved in this case. I will be representing my family in this matter and expect to be kept informed about anything and everything involving my cousin’s murder.”

      “Certainly. Lieutenant Norton and I have an appointment with Mr. Cortez”—Chad glanced at his wristwatch—“right now, so allow me to escort you to the director’s office. He’s expecting you and can answer some of your questions. Then when Norton and I are free, we’ll be glad to do whatever we can for you.”

      Annabelle gave Quinn Cortez a sidelong glance. “Is Mr. Cortez a suspect?”

      Silence.

      Annabelle glanced back and forth from one man to the other. “Knowing if Mr. Cortez is a suspect falls under keeping me informed about anything and everything to do with Lulu’s murder.”

      Chad cleared his throat, then said hurriedly, “Mr. Cortez discovered the body. We will be questioning him again this morning, with his attorney present.”

      As if on cue, Kendall Wells stepped off the elevator directly behind them. “What have we here, a little informal powwow?” she said as she approached her client. “You’ve been behaving yourself, haven’t you, Quinn?”

      “Don’t I always?” he replied.

      His lawyer gave him a censoring glance, then zeroed in on the sergeant. “We’re here on time and ready for the interview. Let’s get this over with so Mr. Cortez can—”

      “We’ll be ready for y’all shortly,” Chad snapped his response, then turned to Annabelle, all smiles and concern. “Ms. Vanderley, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to Director Danley’s office.” He took her arm and tugged gently.

      Annabelle went with him, all the while fighting the urge to look back at Quinn Cortez.

      “Don’t make us cool our heels too long,” Ms. Wells called after them.

      Sergeant George mumbled under his breath. “I apologize for someone not meeting you outside and escorting you in. It’s unfortunate that you had to be subjected to meeting Quinn Cortez, especially this morning, so soon after…Well, I am sorry.”

      “Exactly who is Quinn Cortez and why did he think I should have heard of him?”

      Chad harrumphed. “The man’s an egomaniac. He thinks the whole world knows who he is because he’s a criminal defense lawyer who has gotten quite a few murderers off scot-free. He just won a big case over in Nashville. The Terry McBryar case.”

      “Oh, yes, I seem to recall hearing something about that trial on the news. Wasn’t McBryar’s lawyer some hotshot from Texas?” Annabelle gasped as she remembered what one newscaster had said about McBryar’s lawyer, whose name she’d forgotten.

      He not only has a reputation as a dangerously formidable opponent in the courtroom, but also as a real lady-killer in his personal life.

      She wasn’t sure why that comment had stuck with her when she had forgotten the man’s name and had no memory of seeing him on the newscast. The words dangerously formidable and lady-killer repeated themselves again and again in Annabelle’s mind.

      “A far as I’m concerned, Cortez is scum,” Chad told her. “He’s an immoral moneygrubber. A real shyster.”

      “Are you saying you believe the man has no conscience? If that’s the case, then he’s capable of murder, isn’t he? Is that what you think—you think he killed Lulu?”

      Chad coughed, then cleared his throat. She glanced at him and noted a slight pink flush to his cheeks.

      “Here we are.” He paused in front of the closed door to the Director of Police’s office.

      She realized that Chad George had no intention of answering her question about Quinn Cortez. Why was that? Couldn’t he give her a simple yes or no response?

      “Director Danley, Ms. Annabelle Vanderley has arrived,” he announced through the closed door.

      A deep, gruff voice responded. “Don’t keep the lady waiting. Go get her and show her in. We’ve got enough trouble with the press as it is. The last thing we want—” When he opened the door and saw Annabelle standing at the sergeant’s side, the director quieted immediately. “Ms. Vanderley?”

      She nodded.

      “Please, come into my office.” Danley cast Chad a scurrilous glare. “Don’t you have somewhere to be right now, sergeant?”

      “Yes, sir.” The younger man all but clicked his heels before he turned and walked away, leaving Annabelle with Director Danley.

      Jim Norton rubbed the palm of his hand across his face as he studied Quinn Cortez. The Quinn Cortez. There had been a time when he’d been The Jimmy Norton, renowned UT running back and teammate of the even more renowned quarterback, Griffin Powell. Jim understood what it was like to have your reputation precede you and to often follow you around like a ghost from the past, a ghost from which you couldn’t escape.

      He’d listened carefully to everything Cortez had said and he’d interpreted the way in which the man had responded to questions. He’d also studied his body language as he’d sat there, cool as a cucumber, for the past hour. Jim’s gut instincts told him that Cortez didn’t kill Lulu. First and foremost, the man had no motive. At least none they knew of. And secondly, Jim had been impressed with the way Cortez had dealt with Chad George’s hostility and rudeness. His partner seemed damned and determined to make Cortez confess to the crime. Jim had come close to asking Chad to step outside a couple times before he crossed the line with his unprofessional interrogation. His reaction to Cortez wasn’t the norm for Chad, who often acted on emotion rather than logic, but always conducted himself in a professional manner.

      Jim followed the rules, never broke them—not in a long time—and bent them only when absolutely necessary. Dealing with a lawyer as smart as Cortez put an extra burden on the Memphis police department and the bottom line with Jim was making sure neither he nor Chad did anything that even hinted of illegality.

      Been there. Done that. Wouldn’t repeat that mistake.

      “Are we about through here?” Kendall Wells asked as she rose from her chair and snapped shut her briefcase.

      “Maybe,” Chad said.

      “Yes, we’re though,” Jim corrected his partner. “And we want to thank Mr. Cortez for being so cooperative.”

      “Then my client is free to go?”

      “Certainly.”

      “Free to return to Houston?” she asked.

      Jim grunted. “At this point, I’d rather not make what I’m going to say official…”

      Ms. Wells sighed loudly. “He’s free to walk out of the Criminal Justice Center, but not

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