weâll be swimming in suspects. Itâll be a âWho shot J.R.?â kind of thing.â
âGreat. I can hardly wait. How much time to you think we have beforeââ
âDetective Collier, Detective Collier. May I ask you a few questions?â
Max jerked around to Aaliyah Hunter. She was clutching a microphone and her cameraman waswaving frantically. The sight of them twisted his stomach into knots.
âSheâs got to be kidding,â Dossman said, shaking his head. âWasnât she the reporter who put you in the hot seat last year?â
âHot seat?â Max ground his teeth, then turned away. âShe damn near cost me my job with her misquotes and creative editing skills.â To his surprise, his face flushed with anger. Heâd thought that heâd turned the corner long ago and put the whole incident behind him.
âI can see why you were easily led down the road to hell.â Dossman openly assessed the reporterâs physical assets. âA woman who looks like that could only be trouble.â
Max cast another glance at Ms. Hunter. He hated to admit that his partner had a point. She was perfect; too perfect. With her long hair, her dancerâs legs, and her Colgate smile, she definitely spelled trouble. âDo me a favor?â Max said, returning his attention to Dossman. âStay clear of her.â
âThat could have gone without saying. Let me be the first to remind you to do the same.â
For the first time that morning, Max allowed a smile to curve his lips. âConsider it done.â
âDetective Collier,â another female voice rang out.
He turned toward his fellow detective, Julia Washington, who was waving him over. âI think you better take a look at this.â
âYou go ahead,â Dossman encouraged. âIâm going to see if I can work out who was the last person to see Mr. Underwood alive. Maybe Iâll get lucky and find his date book. I should be able to search his office or place of residence. Letâs say we check in with each otherââ he glanced at his watch ââin about three hours. Is that good with you?â
âSounds like a plan.â Max nodded, then headed toward Detective Washington. As he walked, he took a closer look at his surroundings. What an odd place for teenagers to hang out. Back in his day, if heâd even thought about bringing a girl to some remote area like this, heâd never even gotten near first base. Surely women hadnât changed so much that they no longer wanted to be romanced or wooed.
âWhat did you find, Julia?â
âCasings. Several of them, in fact. If I was a betting woman, Iâd say they are from more than one gun.â
He frowned. âI thought that our victim was killed execution style?â
âHe was. But Iâd say that whoever killed him wasnât alone and perhaps Underwood wasnât intended to be the only victim.â
Â
Kennedy flinched as she removed the small Band-Aid from her ear. At least it had stopped bleeding,she consoled. She leaned toward the mirror to get a better look and grimaced when she fingered her left lobe. She would probably never be able to wear earrings in that ear again.
She opened the medicine cabinet and found a half-empty bottle of peroxide. She tended her discolored ear as best she could, then placed another Band-Aid over the wound.
Slowly, she moved away from the vanity area and over to the tub, where she turned the shower on and made the water as hot as she could stand it. As she disrobed, she gazed at the numerous scratches that marred her skin. How she had survived that horrible night was beyond her. All she could remember was runningâ¦
Â
âThis way,â a man yelled to his companions.
He was a little too close for comfort. The thought of giving up crossed her mind, but she quickly dispelled the notion. Sheâd never considered herself a