She joked once that she had so much leftover fabric that she was going to start making dog jackets,” he said, and Winston’s lips quirked up in the barest grin.
“I like dogs,” Winston said.
“Same here.”
“Any idea who her clients were? Beyond the gymnastics folks? Her friends?”
“Sorry. I honestly didn’t keep track of who her friends were,” Ryan said, speaking the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
“Listen, if anything comes to you, I’d greatly appreciate if you could share it with me,” Winston said, turning off the recorder then pushing back from his seat and standing up.
Ryan tilted his head. “What is it you’re looking for, detective? It would help me if I knew what sort of info you think would be useful.”
“Honestly, anything,” he said, emphasizing the last word with a touch of desperation. “Even if it seems like nothing—even if it seems like the smallest piece of evidence,” he said as he opened the door to his office and escorted Ryan through the main office, which reeked of the late afternoon scent of TGIF even though it was Thursday, as weary cops and detectives finished phone calls, shuffled papers, and glanced at the clock as if they were all counting down the minutes ’til quitting time.
Ryan couldn’t blame them. He was eager to end this workday and get on his phone to sort out his new evening plans at Aria. He said goodbye to the detective and left, returning to the blanket of heat outside, where he dropped his shades over his blue eyes and scanned for the Aston Martin. The car was still there, but the blonde was gone.
Damn. He wouldn’t have minded another chance to drink her in. She would be a balm after that conversation with the detective, which had stirred up too many memories and far too many buried emotions. The past was such a thorny son-of-a-bitch. Diving back to his younger years was not a favorite hobby of his. Those days were messy and dangerous, and he wished he could leave them behind him.
He’d never been able to, though. They had dug claws into him. Grown knotty roots inside his head and his heart.
All the more reason to focus on the things that would take his mind off his obsession with the past.
Like tonight, and the chance to see the sexy blonde again. As he walked down the steps, he wondered briefly what kind of business she had at the municipal offices. One thing he was fairly certain about—she probably wasn’t talking to homicide detectives about an eighteen-year-old case.
A case he’d love to know more about. What he wouldn’t give to know what was inside John Winston’s head.
Chapter Two
Sophie knocked twice on the glass window. John looked up and flashed her a brief smile. Such a hard worker. Always had been. Always would be. He’d be burning the midnight oil tonight, either here at the station or at home.
Her brother, at thirty-three, was two years older than her, and she hadn’t been surprised to find him bent over his desk, one hand pushed through his dark blond hair, the other flipping through some papers. Probably some case he was hell-bent on solving, since that pretty much described her brother’s single-minded mission in life.
He came to the door and let her in. She’d just finished her phone call with her friend Jenna. Well, that call had then morphed into another one with her ex-husband Holden, but she always loved chatting with him, so the pair of them had kept her occupied as she’d strolled outside, gabbing with some of her favorite people.
“Hey you,” John said, and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek.
“Hey you to you,” she said, her voice bright and bubbly because she was still in a fantastic mood thanks to Mr. Green Tie. She was hoping that handsome man—wait, make that devilishly handsome, because he’d had a wicked glint in those dark blue eyes—would pick up the trail of breadcrumbs she’d left behind. The way Mr. Green Tie had looked at her on the street…she’d never felt so deliciously naked while wearing clothes. A man like that, bold enough to walk right up and talk to her…he was exactly the kind of man who would show up tonight at Aria.
The kind of man she’d never experienced.
But wanted to.
Oh, how she wanted to know what a direct, confident, and forward man was like.
Anticipation knitted a path up her spine. She barely knew the guy, had uttered all of ten words