Page 40 of Straight Shooter

“You’re right,” she whispered. “We shouldn’t get involved.”

His hold loosened and his hand fell away from her face. He adjusted his shirt and bobbed his head in agreement. “We should get to Max’s.”

She followed him out of the house and to the car. After she gave him Max’s address, they rode in silence. The energy between them had shifted. Gone was the zap of chemistry, the lick of excitement in her abdomen. She’d had her opportunity to seize the connection she so desperately craved, but for once, she’d taken the responsible route. She’d let the thought of the consequences of sleeping with an FBI agent override her head, heart, and desires. Instead of relief, a ball of disappointment expanded in her belly.

As Rhett turned onto the street Max’s apartment building was on, traffic came to a halt. “What the hell’s going on?” He sat forward and peered through the windshield.

Peyton frowned. Several police cars crowded the street in front of the high-rise apartment. Ambulance sirens screeched nearby, and a large white van inched onto the street, its horn blaring to get stray vehicles out of the way. A cop stood in the middle of the chaos waving traffic around the patrol cars. People clogged the sidewalks like confused cows in a herd. Several people held their phones over their heads trying to take pictures.

Nausea built at the back of her throat, and she gripped the buckle of her seatbelt. “I need to see what’s going on. It could have something to do with Max.” She unclipped the belt, but Rhett’s hand clamped down on her arm.

“Stay inside. You’re going to get hit by a car.” He steered the vehicle to the side of the road, shifted into park, and got out. She opened her door and stepped onto the sidewalk. Not waiting for him to meet her pace, she shoved through the excited bodies to get to the front of the building.

“Excuse me! Move, please. I live here,” she called, elbowing her way through.

Rhett’s presence burned her back, and the rough skin of his palm slid on the inside of her bicep.

“Slow down,” he pleaded. He pulled her to his side and held his badge in his palm. “Everyone, back up! FBI!”

A few gasps sounded around him, and a path cleared, revealing a body lying ten feet away facedown on the cement.

Nearby, an officer exited his patrol car. “Police! Everyone back up!”

She had to get closer before they closed down the scene. Moving away from Rhett’s side, she skirted her way around the crowd to the front entrance and toward the body. Paramedics dragged out a stretcher and another cop approached with a white sheet folded under his arm.

Rhett caught her hand. “What are you doing?”

“We have to see if it’s Max.”

Rhett’s lips firmed, but he followed her a few steps closer to the scene. A cop who was focused on pushing the crowd back looked over his shoulder, and his features pinched into a scowl. “I said, get back!”

“Peyton, we have to go,” Rhett hissed behind her.

She didn’t move. Denim shorts and a white tank top covered the woman’s slim body. Her neck was twisted at an unnatural angle, and blood pooled on the sidewalk beneath her. Her long, dark, curly hair spread over her shoulders and billowed onto the concrete. Her arm sprawled away from her body, and fluorescent pink coated her inch-long nails.

Vicky.

Chapter

Fourteen

“You’re sure that’s her?” Rhett kept his hand linked with Peyton’s. Only because he didn’t want her to dart off into the crowd again. Or at least that was the bullshit he told himself. Never mind that her fingers meshed perfectly with his and she clung to his hold. As they walked back to his car, the hair on the back of his neck stood up as if he’d just taken off a staticky blanket in the middle of winter.

Peyton stopped short before they broke away from the gathering crowd. “Positive. Same hair, same fingernails.”

“Fingernails?”

“She had a fresh manicure on the yacht. I noticed because of the neon color and unusual length.”

“I’ll call Eric and⁠—”

“We need to get into Max’s unit. He could be inside and hurt.” Peyton’s free hand curled at her breastbone and worry contorted her features.

They couldn’t just waltz into a crime scene. The smart thing to do would be to alert the authorities that they had a hunch as to which unit Vicky had come from, but then they’d get tied up with the cops and with that came questions. And with questions came suspicion. Peyton would end up smack-dab in the middle of the investigation.

She was right, though. Max could be hurt. Or dead. And the murderer would be long gone. Besides, Vicky’s death directly related to his case, so he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be by searching Max’s place. He just had a head start on the cops. He nodded. “They probably haven’t started to investigate where she fell from, so we have an advantage if we can hurry and get upstairs before they evacuate the building.”

They turned back toward the crowd. An officer was monitoring the entrance, but residents were still coming and going. A young man entered the building directly in front of them. Rhett caught the door and Peyton preceded him inside.