Page 25 of Murder Notes

“Semantics, Kane,” I say, crossing the large space between us while his eyes follow my every step. “Stick with Agent Love,” I add, claiming the leather seat in front of his desk.

“I do rather like the way that sounds,” he replies, his voice silk and sandpaper, and I have no doubt it’s by design as everything he does is by design. “Agent Love.”

I ignore what I know is a suggestion of one of the man’s many sexual appetites. “Tell me again where you were last night.”

He leans forward, hands resting on the desk, the air crackling sharply. “Lilah,” he reprimands me softly, throwing my Agent Love directive out the window.

“Were you really with Samantha Young?” I press.

“I have no reason to lie about something like that, while I have one very big reason, which is you, to tell you otherwise.”

More like he needs an alibi, I think. “Were you with her?”

“Yes.”

“From what time to what time?”

“Estimate. Six to eight.”

“Were you aware she’s dating my brother?”

“You mean she’s fucking him.”

“You knew,” I accuse.

“No, I did not. And obviously there’s more to your choirboy brother than either of us realized.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I say, recognizing the raw nerve my brother opened as taking a direct hit.

“She’s corrupt and that’s not unknown in this town. You know this.”

“And yet you fuck her.”

“She’s a fuck for me. I know what she is and I really don’t care. If he’s telling you he’s dating her, that’s a different can of worms. There’s no way he doesn’t know what she is, which means he just doesn’t care.”

The sister in me goes to my brother’s defense. “Kind of like me with you?”

“Attacking me over my bloodline doesn’t change the fact that your brother is involved with her. That she’s letting him believe what they have is a relationship tells me she wants something from him.”

“And what does she want from you?”

“Things she will never have.”

“And from my brother?”

“Things you had better make sure she never gets.”

“Like what?”

“I have no idea,” he says. “But if he’s involved with her, he’s either fallen off his golden pedestal, or he’s being manipulated in some way.”

“He’s clean.”

“She’s not.”

“And yet you just got naked with her. What does that say about you?”

“Is that what this is about? Me and her? Because you’ve come back to that twice, now. Correct me if I’m wrong, which I’m not, but I believe you’ve been doing your share of the same with that blond Ken Doll in LA.”