Crash Into Me - L.A. Fiore Page 0,7
public relations department might help pull in the younger generation, not that they had trouble with that demographic, since he owned several of the most trendy night clubs in the city, but he knew part of Penelope’s suggestion was getting the chance to meet Desiree, someone Samantha would no longer represent if she’d gotten the job. He wasn’t sure Penelope had thought her idea through, not that it mattered now. Samantha James had been a kid with a promising career and now she was dead.
“Mr. Wakefield. Levy is bringing the car around.” Benson, like Penelope, had been with Kade from the beginning. He’d offered to set Benson up with his own place, offered him any job he wanted, but he wanted to tend to Kade. He understood. They had history; they were family, and Benson believed in earning his way.
“I’ll be down in a minute. Thanks, Benson.”
Kade turned back to the window. It was a beautiful day, but he suspected his day was going to be anything but beautiful. He crossed the room to the elevator; reaching for his jacket as he did, while wondering how long it would be before the NYPD was knocking on his door.
Two hours later, he had his answer. A detective Zac Ashton was requesting a meeting. He begrudgingly had to give it to the homicide detective. Samantha James wasn’t high profile, but he wasn’t letting any flies settle. That would be of some comfort to her family. He’d asked Penelope to send the detective in when he arrived. It wasn’t going to be a long conversation because there was little Kade could tell him. Not taking the meeting would raise suspicion and he didn’t have time for that bullshit.
He heard the knock before the door opened. He didn’t look up from his papers when Penelope said, “Detectives Ashton and Donahue.”
He glanced up then, his focus passing the tall man with dark hair and cop eyes, dressed in a cheap suit, and an even cheaper overcoat, and settled on the woman with him, a female homicide detective. She, too, was in a suit: a black pantsuit, a white button-down that looked like it might be a man’s cut. Her black hair was pulled up into a knot. She wasn’t wearing makeup and had the biggest, bluest eyes he’d every seen. Most women in his presence got that look. He wasn’t being arrogant; he knew the appeal he had on women. He played on it sometimes, but this woman looked at him like he was, well, a suspect…cold and calculating. If she was sweating under her cotton shirt, he couldn’t tell.
He stood and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please have a seat.”
Ashton was the senior partner; it was subtle, the two played off each other well, but Ashton was the first to move. And when they sat, he was the first to talk.
“We’re here about Samantha James.” There was a touch of arrogance in Ashton’s tone. Kade knew the type: hardworking, middle class, and not a fan of the rich, the entitled or the pampered. For a detective, making blanket assumptions was a hazard, but then Kade knew most of the time that assumption was right.
Not one to allow another to set the tone of a meeting, he ignored Aston and turned his attention to his partner. “Can I get you something to drink?”
Her eyes were mesmerizing. Not just the size and color, but, despite his earlier observation, there was a spark in them. Not so cool and calculating, but smart because she knew what he was doing.
“We’re good, thanks.”
On the outside, Kade had no reaction to her husky voice, but on the inside, it was like taking a hit to the gut. He held her stare, waited and wasn’t disappointed to see interest…just a spark of it, but her pupils definitely dilated. He’d bet money she was sweating under her clothes now. The idea of peeling her out of them, so he could lick…
His reaction to her surprised him, but he shut it down and turned his attention to Ashton. “I can’t tell you much about Samantha James. I’m aware she was at the reception last night, but our paths didn’t cross. My assistant was working on getting her an interview for our public relations department. You might want to talk with her.”
Ashton pulled out a notepad and jotted that down. “We’ll do that.” His eyes lifted. “Where were you between eight and ten last night?”
“The reception. Penelope can give you