a list of people who can verify that.”
The way Ashton snapped closed his notepad, he’d been hoping Kade would be less cooperative. The idea that they thought he was in anyway involved in the woman’s death pissed him off, but he held that in, too. “May I ask what happened to her?”
“It’s an active investigation,” Ashton replied curtly.
The party line, he wasn’t surprised by the reply. He was surprised when Donahue added, “She was stabbed in the park last night during a run.”
Her partner was surprised, too, when his attention snapped to her. She didn’t care, her focus lingering on Kade. She then took lead when she stood and offered her card. “Thanks for taking the time to see us. If you think of anything, please call me.”
Kade didn’t look at the card; his focus was on her. Her partner stood and walked to the door. She didn’t move, deliberately waiting a beat, before she smiled and turned for the door, not looking back until she reached it. “We’ll just have a word with your assistant and then we’ll be on our way.”
Kade nodded, and waited until the door closed, before he looked down at the card. Detective Molly Donahue. He ran his thumb over the embossed print before he slipped the card in his pocket. Taking his seat, he didn’t get back to work. It sounded as if Samantha James had been a victim of a random killing. It was possible the detectives were just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s, before the case went cold like so many did, or was there something more about her case that piqued their interest? Penelope was linked, however obscurely, to the investigation. He was, too, and he’d learned early on to never find yourself in a situation where you didn’t know all the players. He reached for his private line and made a call. It was answered on the first ring. “Find out everything you can on Samantha James. Yes, the murder victim from last night.” He almost ended the call, but then added, “Find out everything on homicide Detective Molly Donahue, too.” He didn’t wait for a reply and hung up. His first request was business, and it was smart. The second request was to appease his curiosity.
Bridget Dubois picked at her salad, had turned down the stuffed mushrooms, and the chicken parmigiana that had been the best he’d ever tasted. She was a super model, exquisite bone structure, long platinum blonde hair, lips that had been augmented but worked with her face, but she needed to eat a hamburger, a bacon double burger and fries. A milkshake wouldn’t hurt, either. Kade reached for his glass of Duclot Bordeaux, studying his companion from over the rim, as he took a sip.
He couldn’t keep the smile from his voice when he asked, “You’ll not be wanting dessert I’m assuming.”
“No, I’ve eaten too much already.”
She’d eaten next to nothing.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Bridget didn’t wait for him to reply. He knew she was going to the bathroom to purge. It was sad. He wouldn’t be seeing her again. Trying to fix other people’s problems wasn’t his business, and he, honestly, had no desire to do it.
He’d picked this restaurant because he was contemplating becoming a silent partner. Several associates mentioned the place to him. After his first visit, he dined there regularly, toured the kitchen, and studied their financials, but the selling point for him was the food. He’d been to the finest restaurants in Italy, and this place could hold its own. Anita Valentino, owner and mastermind behind the recipes, was having trouble with the increased rent and taxes. It’d be a crime for the city to lose this little gem. He’d have his lawyer draw up the papers in the morning.
A woman at the bar caught his attention, or, rather, it was the black bandage dress she wore that showed off her curves to perfection. His eyes moved to her legs that were long and toned, ending in black stilettos that screamed sex. A jolt of heat raced through his veins. He rarely experienced so visceral a reaction to someone. He was around beautiful women all the time, but there was something about the curvy, raven-haired beauty that made his blood burn, and he hadn’t even seen her face. She wasn’t alone, a man stood at her side. From their body language, he was guessing it was a first date. He’d bet his bank account she wasn’t into him