They stepped into the lobby. Hurried toward the hotel’s main doors.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a couple talking with Chuck. The woman was small, attractive, with light brown skin and a haircut that skimmed her jaw. A blond male was at her side. Tall. Wide shoulders.
Something about them put Noah on alert.
His fingers tightened around Claire’s. They were almost to the doors.
“Mr. York?” The voice calling to him belonged to the blond male.
Noah kept walking.
Claire stopped.
Dammit. When she stopped, he had to stop, too.
“Mr. York? I’m Detective Lane Scott. I’ve got some questions for you.”
Claire still wasn’t moving. Because of that, Noah had to turn and fully face the cops—he was sure the woman was a cop, too.
“What’s happening?” Claire asked as she edged closer to Noah.
Then the man and woman were right before them. The guy’s gaze slid to Claire. “You’re Claire Kramer.”
Claire nodded.
The woman with Lane Scott asked, “Want to tell us where you were last night?”
Noah stepped in front of Claire. “What’s this about?”
The woman’s dark eyes cut his way. “I’m Detective Gwen Lazlo. Lane and I work the D.C. homicide division.”
“Good to know,” Noah murmured. “But we’ve got a plane to catch.”
“Senator Colby Harrison was murdered last night,” Gwen said. When she made this reveal, she’d made a point of maneuvering to the side so that she had a line-of-sight with Claire.
“What?” Claire gasped.
“Um…” That non-committal sound came from Lane. “Someone shot the guy—right in the head—last night between one and three a.m.” Lane paused as his gaze swept over Claire. “Where were you then, Ms. Kramer?”
Noah turned back to Claire. She’d gone ashen. Her eyes were too wide.
“In the…in the head?” Claire whispered.
Just like her parents.
Because he’d read the autopsy reports on them. He’d needed to read them, had to learn as much as he could, after he’d met Claire.
“It’s all right,” Noah told her and he made sure that his voice was calm. “Look at me, Claire. Look at me.”
Her gaze met his.
“It’s all right,” he repeated. They had to be very careful here. If Claire hadn’t left last night, his staff would have been able to vouch for her.
I didn’t count on her leaving.
That had sure wrecked his plans.
Claire nodded slowly.
“I don’t know that it is all right,” Lane drawled.
Noah glanced back at him. The blond was scratching his jaw.
“I mean, a man is dead. Half of his head was blown away and—”
Noah heard Claire’s sharp inhalation of breath. His jaw clenched. “Be very careful how you proceed, Detective,” Noah warned him. “You don’t want to make any enemies today.”
Lane’s eyes widened. “You threatening me?”
Noah had to laugh. “Threats are useless. Why bother with them? I make promises.”
Lane glanced at his partner.
“Ms. Kramer hasn’t answered our question,” Gwen said, voice tight. “We need to know her whereabouts. It’s come to our attention that she and the victim had an…altercation last night.”
“Bullshit,” Noah snapped before Claire could speak. “I’m the one who had an altercation with the drunken idiot. He came into my hotel and insulted my guest, so I threw his ass out.” He flashed his teeth in a hard grin. “End of altercation.”
“But Ms. Kramer—” Gwen pressed.
“I didn’t kill him,” Claire said. She eased to Noah’s side. Stared at the detective. “That’s what you really want to know, isn’t it? If I killed him?” Claire shook her head. “I didn’t.”
Gwen pursed her lips as she assessed Claire. “A woman fitting your description was seen at the senator’s hotel, right around the time of his death. Actually, the senator’s manager, Vincent Finch, didn’t just say she fit your description. He’s sure that she was you.”
“He’s wrong,” Noah said flatly. “And there are plenty of blonde’s in this city.”
“But there aren’t that many who would probably take a savage satisfaction in blowing out Senator Harrison’s brains,” Gwen said. Her voice was low, and her eyes were still on Claire. “After what happened to you, I could see where you’d want payback. Your boyfriend killed your parents. Maybe you just got around to evening up that score.”
“I didn’t kill him,” Claire said, voice soft.
“Why don’t you come down to the station and answer a few questions for us?” Lane asked her, and the jerk was trying for a solicitous tone. The man must think Noah was an idiot.
You aren’t getting Claire any place near your station.
“We have a plane to catch,” Noah said.
Lane shook his head. “We have an active murder investigation, you can’t just leave—”
“I can. We will.” Noah cocked his head to the right. “We’ll be in New York for the next few days. If you want to reach me or Claire, you can contact my attorney.” He rattled off the name and number of his lawyer. The lawyer in question was a lady who would chew up and spit out anyone who ever came after Noah.
Then he rolled back his shoulders in what he hoped appeared to be a careless shrug. “Now, I’m sure you have plenty of work to do. After all, there’s a killer out there for you to find.”
He took Claire’s elbow and walked with her toward the doors.
“Ms. Kramer?” Gwen called out.
And, of course, Claire glanced back.
Noah sighed.
“I’m curious…are you glad he’s dead? Because, in your place, I would be.”
Noah had to give Gwen credit. The woman was very skilled at the good cop role.
“Yes,” Claire whispered. “I’m glad.” Then she walked through the door. Noah made sure that she didn’t have the chance to stop again.
***
“Well, well…” Lane exhaled as Noah York and Claire Kramer left the hotel. “That went pretty much as I’d thought.”
Yeah, it had gone nowhere.
Gwen rubbed the back of her neck. Tension was thick there, knotting the muscles. She’d been awake for almost twenty hours, and she needed to crash.