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“Woman, I can drive in three feet of ‘snow and ice,’” he pointed out. “I live in Chicago.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Why, so you do! Okay. I’m game if you are!”
“I’m game, all right.” He checked his watch. “I’m going over to the hospital to see that ex-boyfriend of May Strickland’s. He might give me some answers.”
“He’s on the second floor,” she told him, standing up when he did. “My friend Mary is the charge nurse. I’ll phone and tell her you’re coming.” She sized him up with her eyes. “I’ll make sure she knows you’re off-limits, too.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Look here, kid, I’m not property.”
“Oh, yes, you are,” she teased. She went close, reached up with her arms, and tugged his face down. “Private property, no trespassing . . .”
The last word went into his hard mouth as it came down over her lips. She caught her breath at the raw passion in the kiss. He lifted her against him, holding her close, feeling her warm body cling to his. He was sure that he didn’t want to get seriously involved with her. His body had other ideas.
He groaned. “Hospital. Suspect. Interrogation,” he managed.
She didn’t say a word. Her arms tightened around his neck.
It was a long, sweet time before he finally set her back on her feet. He was breathing heavily and his heartbeat had been almost shaking her.
He was irritated, because he thought she was being coy, playing with him. But when he looked down at her, he saw the helpless hunger there, the warm affection that she couldn’t hide. No, he told himself. She wasn’t playing. She was as incapable of stopping what was happening as he was.
“Skates. Denver. Sushi,” he said after a minute. “First thing tomorrow morning.”
She nodded, her heart in her eyes. “I’ll be ready.”
He bent and kissed just the tip of her nose. “Sleep tight.”
She smiled. “You, too,” she whispered.
He turned at the door. “I knew you were trouble the minute I saw you.”
She laughed.
He shook his head and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Five
Billy Turner wasn’t happy to have the FBI in his hospital room at all. “I don’t have to talk to you without an attorney,” he said belligerently.
Tom sat down in the chair beside his bed. “You won’t like the way that plays out,” he said easily. “I’m interrogating you in reference to a murder investigation. If you need an attorney, I’ll begin to see you as a suspect.” He smiled.
Billy averted his eyes. “I never killed nobody,” he said curtly.
“Then you shouldn’t mind answering some questions about your girlfriend.”
The man’s eyes popped. “About May?” he exclaimed.
Tom nodded. He pulled out the notes application on his cell phone.
“Surely you don’t think she killed the girl?” Billy asked shortly.
“I don’t know who killed Julie,” he said. “But I’m going to find out,” he added, and he didn’t blink. His dark eyes could look intimidating. They did now. “Whatever it takes.”
Billy shifted in the bed and winced. Tom had had a talk with his doctor, who was making rounds on the floor when he came in. Billy had two broken ribs and a crack in his pelvis that would probably require orthopedic surgery. “You were lucky your injuries weren’t worse,” Tom said. “From all accounts it was a bad fall.” He sat back in the chair. “Hasn’t your girlfriend been to see you?”
“She’s not my girlfriend. Not anymore, anyway,” he said, and sounded torn. “She’s after bigger game than me. Old Downing’s rich, you know, and she thinks if she swans around him he’ll marry her. But he won’t,” he added shortly.
“Are you sure about that?”
