His tussled dark hair was easy to identify.

Even through the glass entrance doors leading into the office I knew who he was.

But the bigger question was, what was he doing here?

As soon as they both heard me enter, he pulled away from whispering secrets into Giselle’s ear. Her cheeks flushed with infatuation. This wasn’t the time to have her forget the task at hand.

Glancing at me, he straightened his spine and stuffed one hand inside his pocket while offering me the other. “Drake Goodman.”

“Yes, I know who you are.” I shook his hand, eyeing Giselle.

Giselle ducked her head, crumpling under scrutiny. “Drake was just leaving.”

Shoving a hand through his hair, Drake glanced to Giselle before fixing his eyes back on me. “I was in the area and thought it would be a nice gesture to quickly say hello to a friend.”

“Have a nice day, Drake,” I said, leaving no room for debate. Turning to Giselle, I marched past her desk and said, “Get your shit together. We have work to do.”

I pretended to be busy, organizing the files piling up on my desk as I ignored the whispers coming from outside the door. With an unassuming eye, I watched her walk Drake to the exit and as soon as she’d come back inside—alone—I stepped out and reminded her, “You know better than to be bringing boyfriends to the office.”

“It wasn’t my idea.” Giselle made excuses. “And I couldn’t just tell him to leave.”

Not wanting to waste another minute of my precious time, I said, “Regardless, our office isn’t a place to fraternize with possible partners.”

Pleading with me with her eyes for forgiveness, Giselle held her hands in front of her belt buckle. But with threats against Kendra and me mounting, and still not knowing where Timothy Parker was hiding out, I didn’t want any new faces hanging around our office. It was too risky. There were too many wild cards wanting to see us fail. And it didn’t sit well with me knowing that he popped in completely uninvited.

“From now on,” I softened my tone, “if you are expecting any visitors, you need to first seek my approval.”

“Understood, Kelly.” Giselle bounced on her toes.

Moving on, I asked, “Now where are we with Maria Greer’s case files?”

Giselle put her game face back on as she stepped back behind her desk. “I have them organized based on when they happened. Everything is color coded to easily identify the facts to support our theory.”

Picking up a couple folders I thumbed over them, knowing that Giselle had spent a considerable time in putting the documents together. I quietly thanked her for that. They were neatly organized and reconfirmed my reasoning for hiring her in the first place. She hadn’t lost sight of what she’d signed up for. That allowed me to roll my shoulders back a little further, knowing that we were going into our day prepared. “Are the photos I gave to you all here?”

Giselle took the files from me and shuffled through them before handing them back to me. “I can’t stop thinking about Mario sitting in his cell for something he didn’t do. Are you sure Sylvia Neil could have murdered Maria?”

I froze and swore that I felt the air in the room get sucked out the moment Giselle whispered Sylvia’s guilt. “It doesn’t matter who killed Maria at this point,” I reminded her.

“But if she did, Kelly, then the least we can do for Mario is make Sylvia face justice if she is in fact guilty.”

I locked my gaze on hers. “Which we will.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“It might not be the kind of justice we would like her to receive, but by the end of this we’ll make sure the world knows who Maria’s real killer is.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Someone has to take Mario’s place.”

Shaking my head, I sighed.

“Kelly, please tell me that is your plan? Mario will be set free, won’t he?”

Wetting my lips, I said, “Judge Smith will deny any request to hear evidence on Sylvia since the state already has a suspect arrested and pleading guilty to the crime.”

Giselle’s hands went to her head as she pulled her hair back in frustration.

Dropping my gaze back to the file in my hand, I muttered, “I still haven’t been able to track down Parker.”

“We’ll find him, Kelly.” Her hand came to touch my elbow. “We won’t rest until we do.”

Nodding, I said, “And it all starts with Angelina Davis.”

Giselle took a step back, lowering her tailbone to rest on the edge of her desk.

Arching a brow, I asked, “That’s the reason you called isn’t it? She’s here?”

“Yes,” Giselle glanced down the hall. “But she’s a little confused as to why you called her in.”

Dropping the files to my side, I said, “You didn’t explain?”

She lowered her chin and shrugged. “I got sidetracked.”

Turning my attention down the hall myself, Angel stepped into sight, pacing back and forth in the conference room behind closed doors with her arms crossed. “Probably best that you didn’t.” I turned back to Giselle. “That way we can surprise her with our questioning.”

Giselle’s head bobbed. “What’s the game plan for going in?”

I glanced back to the conference room, taking a minute to get my thoughts straight. Until Giselle called this morning, I hadn’t spent a whole lot of time thinking about work. Kendra had consumed my thoughts, and suddenly my mind was back on her, hoping she would obey my instructions to stay put.

“It’s important she doesn’t leave here,” I turned and fixed my gaze back on Giselle, “without first giving us a believable reason why she was wearing Sylvia’s name tag the night Maria was murdered.”

“You take the lead—” Giselle pushed off her desk.

“—and step in when Angel needs to hear it from another woman.” Taking a deep breath in, I turned my head back to the conference room and Angel found me staring. “How long has she been here?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Did she say anything?”

“Just curious to know what you wanted to discuss.”

Thinking Angel might know more about Maria’s death than anybody besides the killer, it was important not to forget the first time Angel and I met. She was out with Oscar Buchanan shortly after I stole Kendra away from him.

“Let’s get this over with,” I said, getting Giselle to follow. We entered the conference room to a pair of cautious eyes. Taking a seat on the opposite side of where Angel stood, I thanked her for coming in today.

Pulling out the empty chair nearest to her, she fell into it. “I assume you asked me here to discuss Tonya.”

Time slowed to a stop. The faint sounds of a ticking clock grew louder, and somewhere in my highly alert state I kept hearing soft whispers swirling in my ears. Look what you made me do.

But before I let my mind lose track of what she’d just admitted, I said, “Then you’ve heard?”

She nodded and dabbed her nose with a tissue. “Tonya was a friend.”

Reaching across the table, Giselle took one of Angel’s hands and squeezed. “Kelly and I are both sorry for what happened to Tonya.”

Angel’s eyes darted between us. Then she landed her cold gaze directly on me. “Are you?”

“We want to know who did this as much as you do.”

“That’s funny.” Her lips pinched shut.

I gave her a questioning look.

“Because I’ve been thinking a lot about this.” Her nostrils flared. “And I’m convinced that if you hadn’t assaulted Timothy Parker, Tonya would still be alive today.”

As much as her comment stung, I refused to go down that road. Her friend was dead. She was grieving. I wasn’t about to fault her for that. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the night of Blake Stone’s movie premiere.”

Jerking her head back, the crease between her brows deepened. “Yeah. Okay. Sure.”

Placing the point of my pen to the legal pad, I asked, “Were you there?”

“I was.” Her voice was light, no louder than a soft whisper.

Giselle slid over the file we had on Maria. I took my time when opening it. Peeling the photo of Maria at the corner, I lifted it and turned it to face Angel. “Did you happen to see her there that night?”

Angel’s eyes looked intently at the photograph. “I can’t say for sure, but I don’t think so.”

Giselle slid over the file on Sylvia Neil. Pulling out an image we had of her, I did the same as I had with Maria—making certain Angel could clearly see the face presented. “What about her?”

Angel didn’t need to study this one as closely as Maria’s. It was clear she recognized Sylvia’s face right away. Laughing, she said, “Yes, she was there. Her and the rest of Hollywood’s gossip column reporters.”

Laying Sylvia’s image next to Maria’s in the center of the table facing Angel, Giselle already had my next set of images ready to go. “What about her? Do you recognize her?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “That’s me.”

“Funny.” I turned the photo back around to face me. “Because I could swear that the name tag says you’re Sylvia Neil.”

Angel leaned back in her chair, bringing her arms off the table. Folding them over her belly she said, “I can explain.”

Smiling, I responded, “Brilliant. Because, with me believing Sylvia Neil killed Maria, a jury could get confused and think that maybe it was you who did it.”

“Sylvia placed the name tag on me on her way out of the party.”

“Why would she do that?”

“She seemed in a hurry. I didn’t ask, didn’t care. People thought it was funny since only the media were instructed to wear them.”

“What time was that?” Giselle asked.

Angel shrugged. “I don’t know. After nine, maybe. It was several hours before the party was over.”

“You don’t sound so sure of yourself,” I pressed.

Angel cocked her head. “It was a party. A very important party with contacts that allow me to make a living. You know how events like those go. It’s easy to lose track of time. One drink leads to the next, and soon every conversation you’ve had that night begins to sound the same.”

Letting my eyes fall back to the photo, I chose my next words carefully. “So, either it is how you say it is, or—” I paused to glance up at Angel from beneath my brow, “—you’re in on it, too.”

“In on what?” she huffed.

“Maria Greer’s murder.”

Her eyes widened as her posture slumped. “That’s ridiculous.” Looking to Giselle, she asked, “Why would I want to kill someone I never met? I have nothing against this woman.”

“Revenge. Jealousy. Maybe just to help a friend out?” I listed off several possible reasons why she might want to have Maria killed. “It doesn’t take much to come up with a believable story as to why you would do it. Juries love a good murder story and, like you said, stories and names soon begin sounding the same.”

Bringing her elbows to the table, Angel propped herself up and stared at Sylvia’s photo for a long while before saying, “You’re wrong about me, but not far off on her.” Her finger jabbed Sylvia’s face.

Tilting my head, Giselle glanced at me as she leaned forward.

“She was crazy about Nash Brooks.” She nodded. “And when he refused another night with her, something changed inside her.”

Angel didn’t tell us anything new. We had learned that about Sylvia and, if anything, it only reconfirmed my suspicions that Sylvia had reason to target Maria as a way of getting back at Nash for refusing her.

“Look, Kelly,” Angel continued, “I’ve seen how jealousy can consume a woman. Especially when they can’t have the man they want. And I understand why you brought me here today. But I’m not the person you need to be talking to.”

“Who is it you think I should be talking to instead?” I asked.

Angel began laughing. “It must be so frustrating to know that you’re as guilty as the rest of us.”

Frowning, I glanced to Giselle. She shook her head, as confused as I was.

“Tonya’s blood is on your hands, Kelly.” Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you get it? Madam is using you. Just as she is using your girlfriend.”

My chest tightened as I continued to stare at Angel. “Stay away from Kendra.”

Giselle shifted in her seat and I knew she was growing uncomfortable with how the conversation had shifted. Grief stripped away Angel’s reasoning as she found someone to blame for her friend’s death.

Standing, Angel threaded her arm through the straps of her purse. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a funeral to arrange.”

Reacting defensively, I said, “Strange how you say Tonya was your friend, yet you don’t seem as devastated as I would have thought her best friend to be?”

“Don’t let my shell fool you.” Her eyes moved to Giselle. “Perhaps us women are just stronger when it comes to hiding what is actually going on inside of us.” She paused to stare. “After all, you should have seen Timothy Parker when he learned that his new girlfriend had been murdered.”

My ears perked up. “Parker approached you?”

She nodded. “The man is heartbroken.”

“When? Why?”

She raised one brow. “Who do you think introduced him to Tonya?”

“You?”

She raised her brows before turning her head away.

“Can you tell me where to find him?”

She turned back to me with fire in her eye. “So you can bring him down here, treat him like a criminal, and interrogate him just like you did to me?”

“That wasn’t our intention,” Giselle said somberly. “We only want what is best for Tonya. It’s something we should all want. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Angel ran her tongue over her top front teeth as if deciding whether or not we could be trusted. Then she reached across the table and stole my pen and paper. Jotting down an address, she said, “You can find him here.”

Reading the address, I knew the area. “One more question before you go.” My eyes flickered up to hers. “Seeing as you knew Tonya best, any ideas who may have wanted her dead?”

“There was only one person she couldn’t escape.”

“Who would that be?” Giselle asked.

“Who else?” Her eyes glimmered. “Madam.”