Part 4 (1/2)

”I need your handgun, Mrs. Foxx.”

”That's going to be a problem,” I muttered.

Malone's cheek muscle twitched. ”Why?”

”The girl with the dachshund tattoo took it,” Betty explained, edging closer to the detective.

He stopped her with a look. She batted her eyes and smiled. He shook his head, not willing to entertain her flirtatious behavior.

”Who?” he asked me.

I shrugged. ”I don't have a name. She's filming a dogumentary, The Long and the Short of It. I don't suppose you've seen her?” For a crazy second I allowed myself to believe he knew where to find the missing woman, along with Betty's missing gun.

”No.” He was annoyed. The one-word sentences were a dead giveaway.

I pulled out the business card she'd given to Betty and handed it to him. ”We've been looking for her. That's what we were doing when Richard was killed.”

”You were together?”

”Yes.”

”No,” I said at the same time as Betty lied.

”You want to answer that again?” he asked Betty.

A nervous smile toyed with the corners of her mouth. ”I was right behind Cookie; she just didn't see me.”

Oh. My Gosh. She was making this a hundred times worse. ”Can we have a minute?” I grabbed Betty's elbow and started to drag her toward the dog park for a one-on-one chat to explain, again, why she had to keep her lips zipped.

”No.”

We froze.

”I want you both to stand over there by the trees with Officer Salinas and give him a description of this . . . woman. And you,”-he pointed at Betty-”you will behave yourself until I get back. When I do, we will have a private discussion. Understood?”

Betty's grey eyes sparkled with romantic interest. She tossed Malone an exaggerated wink. ”I'm saving all my lovin' for you, big fella.”

Awkward silence hung in the air. His mouth opened, then it snapped shut. He closed his eyes for a second. I swear he looked like he was praying for patience. He turned his frustration in my direction. ”Watch her.”

He bellowed for Salinas, and they chatted discreetly for a couple of seconds. Once Malone had finished with his instructions, he stalked off toward the crime scene while we followed Officer Salinas in the opposite direction toward the dog park. We ended up waiting near the food tents. My stomach rumbled as the aroma of fried foods filled my nose.

Betty opened her purse and pulled out her designer lip gloss. ”I knew he liked me. It was only a matter of time before he recognized my animal magnetism.”

I pulled her a few feet away from where Salinas stood. He never turned his head, but I knew he was watching us.

”This isn't a joke. You're in trouble. And the only activity Malone is interested in is arresting you.”

”I know my way around a pair of handcuffs, Cookie.” Betty wiggled her smeared lipstick eyebrows.

I didn't doubt her for a second. ”Where were you? Really.”

”I told you. I was right behind you.”

I wanted to believe her, but she was acting cagier than usual. ”What about before then? We were apart for over thirty minutes.”

She snapped her purse shut. ”Melinda, I didn't kill anyone.”

I am far from a hand-wringer, but cold apprehension rooted itself in my gut. That was the first time Betty had ever called me by my name. I didn't believe for one minute she'd hurt anyone, but she was hiding something. And I knew from experience that never ended well.

Betty stared over my shoulder toward the park entrance. ”Hey, Cookie. I thought you said your man was in New York.”

”He is.”

”Well, he's back.”

It felt like my knees would buckle under the weight of anxiety that rippled through my body. What was Grey doing here?

There was zero time to formulate a plan. Not that it mattered. I worked best shooting from the hip. I sucked in the fresh air and pulled myself together.

As Grandma Tillie told me the night before I left for my freshman year at Stanford, ”You gotta risk it, to get the biscuit.”

Chapter Five.

I HESITATED, AND I hated it. That wasn't me. I was an all-in-and-never-look-back kind of woman. Grey and I have an on-again-off-again history. During the ”off” times, I had never doubted we'd end up together. Until now. I felt insecure and unsure. The worst part was that I had no one to blame but myself.

I took a couple of tentative steps toward him, then stopped. ”Hey.”

”Hey, yourself,” he said.

No one could pull off a tailored Tom Ford suit like Grey. My pulse raced as I waited for him to make the first move. I counted my heartbeats: one . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six. Finally, he bent down and brushed his lips against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed in his woodsy aftershave scent.

”What are you doing here?” I asked as I opened my eyes.

”I've been rea.s.signed,” he said softly.

I looked around making sure no could hear us. ”You don't look happy about that. I'm sorry.” The weight of those last two words hung so heavy between us it felt like I could pluck them out of air.

I reached out to caress his rugged face. My breath caught as he pulled back, and I glimpsed the hurt in his blue eyes. We still had unfinished business to discuss.

He trapped my hand and held it against his chest. I felt his strong heartbeat under my palm.

”Where's your ring?” he asked.

This wasn't the time or the place to confess I wasn't sure he wanted me wearing it. Heck, I didn't know if we were ”on” or ”off” at this point.

”I set it on the bathroom counter this morning getting ready. I forgot to put it back on.”