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“We don’t know yet that it does.”
“We know she lied!” Steffi exclaimed.
“There could be dozens of reasons for that.”
“Now you sound like Hammond.”
“The amateur sleuth.”
Steffi listened as he told her about finding Hammond in the hotel suite the night before. “What was he doing there?”
“Looking around.”
“At what?”
“At everything, I guess. A sly insinuation that I had missed something.”
“What were you doing there?”
Somewhat sheepishly he said, “I might have missed something.”
“Testosterone!” she scoffed. “What it does to otherwise reasonable Homo sapiens.” After a beat, she added, “For instance, look how it colors your opinion of Alex Ladd.”
“What’s that mean?”
“If Alex Ladd wasn’t a noted doctor with a long list of credentials, if she weren’t so educated and attractive and articulate, so damn poised, if instead she was a tough girl with teased hair and tattoos on her tits, would you two be this reluctant to apply more pressure?”
“I won’t even honor that question with an answer.”
“Then why are you soft-pedaling?”
“Because I can’t make an arrest based solely on a lie about her going to Hilton Head Island. I’ve got to have more than that, Steffi, and you know it. Specifically I’ve got to place her in that room. I need hard evidence.”
“Like a weapon.”
“Working on it.”
Continuing to study his profile, a slow smile broke across her face. “Come on, Smilow, what gives? You’ve practically got yellow feathers sticking out of your mouth.”
“You’ll find out the latest development when everybody else does.”
“When will that be?”
“This afternoon. I’ve asked Dr. Ladd to come in for further questioning. Against her solicitor’s advice, she has agreed.”
“Without realizing she’s walking into a carefully laid trap.” Feeling buoyant again, Steffi laughed. “When you spring it, I can’t wait to see her face.”
* * *
Her face mirrored complete surprise, just as Hammond’s did.
The way it came about was crazy.
Hammond, Steffi, Smilow, and Frank Perkins were congregated outside Smilow’s office waiting for Alex to arrive. Steffi complained of leaving a file on the desk sergeant’s counter. Feeling claustrophobic, Hammond quickly offered to go downstairs and retrieve it for her.
He left the Criminal Investigation Division on the second floor and went to the elevators. The doors slid open. The only occupant was Alex, obviously on her way to Smilow’s office. They looked at each other for one stunned second before Hammond stepped in and punched the button to go down.
The doors closed, sealing them inside the small, confined space. He could smell her fragrance. He noted everything at once—hair, face, form. Her tousled hairstyle, soft makeup, and compact figure lent femininity to the tailored business suit she was wearing. The jacket was sleeveless. Her skin looked smooth and soft. Her skin was smooth and soft. On her arms. Breasts. Behind her knees. Everywhere.
