She rocked on her feet before steadying herself. “Well, of course I’m not! I’m innocent.” She far preferred being the investigator than the investigatee. “But, um, what convinced Agent Hightower?”
“For starters, nothing concrete has come up against you. Everything is explainable. But Hightower does believe you’re involved in some way, and she’s gunning hard. She says you have—quote unquote—a darkness inside you.”
Darkness? Jane? Did he agree?
“Since I’m not allowed to officially work the case and you are mostly absolved,” he continued, “I decided to take personal leave. Something I was due. I’ve always volunteered for weekends and holiday shifts, and I’ve never vacationed. And, now that I’m no longer going into the office, I can spend as much time with you as I want.”
A simple admission, but so much to unpack. Where did she even begin? The fact that he’d never taken time off before this? His lack of holiday cheer? His desire to be with her?
“Come on.” He tugged on his jacket and repositioned her against him, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Let’s get you home. You can show me everything you suspect and why, then tell me what you did to the body while the security camera supposedly shifted to Rolex. As if I wouldn’t notice the curtains. We’ll solve this one together. No,” he said when she opened her mouth to respond. “Don’t tell me to return to the office. You need all the help you can get. Hightower is known for her extremely high clearance rate, obsessive need to prove herself and lack of give.”
Okay. He sounded so admiring of the woman’s “lack of give.” Which was a troubling development for Jane, considering she herself was all give. But even still, he was here, and that counted for something.
That counted for a whole lot, actually. By-the-book Conrad was willingly venturing off road, perhaps even against direct orders, to aid Cemetery Girl. Her heart thudded at the realization, and a smile bloomed. She beamed up at him, melting into his side. This guy was so into her.
Wait. This kind of romantic gesture might be a bad thing. Extremely bad. The more he did things like this, the more likely she was to fall in love with him, and Jane absolutely, positively refused to fall in love with him. The second she did, boom! They’d be over.
Trembling now, she straightened to increase the distance between them. Go home and be alone with him? Not smart right now. Nope. Not even a little. “We should stay here a little longer. After the event, I’m meeting with a guy for drinks. Gus something.”
Conrad stiffened for some reason. Did he know something she didn’t?
“He’s friends with Robby Waynes,” she continued, “so surely he’ll have some information for us.”
As Conrad relaxed, she spied Gus striding toward the door with his newest date hanging on his arm.
Wow. To make plans with one woman and leave with another… Where was the honor? Conrad would never do something like that. Jane rested her head on his shoulder.
Red alert! Red alert! She shouldn’t admire him like this. Her defenses might crumble.
Straightening again, she attempted to ease back a step. Conrad held on tight and even rolled his eyes.
“Wipe the panic off your face,” he told her. “I accept your rules. We’ll keep playing will-they-or-won’t-they as long as you need. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Part of her kind of wanted to pretend she didn’t understand his meaning. The other part believed that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. Which made her panic lessen, but also a thousand times worse.
“Now,” he continued. “Tell me about the guy we are having drinks with, and I’ll tell you what I know about Robby Waynes.”
He’d learned something already? “There’s nothing for me to tell since Gus just left with someone else.”
“Then tell me why you planned to speak with him, and why his friendship with Robby Waynes matters to you.”
That hadn’t been their deal, but she rolled with it. “Get this. Gus threw his supposed friend under the bus with an information tidal wave to me, a stranger. From everything he admitted, I’m guessing Robby fell for Ana. They went out on a handful of dates, then fought for some reason and broke up. But what if Gus loved her too? Or, what if–”
“I’ll stop you there and tell you Mr. Waynes was spotted with Miss Irons the morning she died.”
What! “He totally could have poisoned her coffee.”
Conrad didn’t respond to her statement. He offered one of his own, his tone growing low and suggestive. “I want to take you home. Say yes, and I’ll let you interrogate me. There’ll be no limit on the topic or number of questions. The case. My past. I’ll even throw in a bonus and pretend your curiosity about me means nothing.”