Free Hot Secret by Sherryl Woods Page B

curiosity. I was assigned to keep things running smoothly for this production. Instead, the director winds up dead. You’ve met Vince. If you were me, would you want to go to work tomorrow morning without some answers?”
    “Molly, the man can’t hold you accountable if some lunatic pulls a gun and shoots someone.”
    “Vince can and, believe me, he will. Especially if he happens to get half a dozen calls from county officials wanting to know how the hell he could have allowed this to happen? He is more than willing to throw the burden of answering that question off on me. Surely you’ve dealt with the occasional boss who survives by passing the buck.”
    From Michael’s expression, she could tell that he had.
    “True,” he said. “Okay, let’s make a deal, then. If you have a theory about what happened, you’ll tell me about it and let me do some unofficial snooping. If you find something concrete, you’ll tell Sergeant Jenkins at once and let him check it out. You will not stick your own neck out. Deal?”
    With those brown eyes pinning her in place, Molly would have made a deal to sell her soul. “Yes,” she said finally. “I promise.”
    Even as she said the words, she had a feeling they were likely to have about as much substance as her wedding vows. She’d meant them heart and soul at the time, but after a while they had lost their meaning.
    The apt comparison came up again an hour later, when she and Michael left the elevator in her condo just in time to run smack into her ex-husband, who was prowling the hallway outside her apartment. Hal DeWitt ruined his good looks by glaring at her. He was obviously in a foul temper.
    “Where’s Brian? I’m taking him home with me,” he announced without so much as a by-your-leave.
    “He’s outside and no, you are not taking him anywhere,” she retorted, glaring right back at him. The man always brought out the worst in her. Since he often chose to ignore his son unless he could use Brian to gall her, she had no doubt about his motive in showing up today. He’d read about the murder and decided she was once again endangering his child.
    “I won’t allow him to live with a woman who’s a damned jinx.”
    “Jinx,” she repeated incredulously, her voice climbing.
    “Two men are dead,” he reminded her, a stubborn, accusing set to his jaw.
    “Not because of me, they’re not.”
    Since he couldn’t win that argument, he directed a scathing glance at Michael. “Who’s he?”
    She made the introductions warily, watching as Michael seemed to sum Hal up with a quick once-over. Hal was still a very good-looking man, obsessive about staying trim and keeping a year-round tan despite the well-publicized risk of skin cancer. Unfortunately, he was well aware of his attractiveness. He’d skated through life on little more than his charm and his easy smile. Both were wearing thin, along with his carefully styled dark hair, which no longer quite covered his receding hairline.
    Given a little time and vastly improved objectivity, Molly had finally come to see Hal DeWitt for what he was—a shallow, vain man who took delight in belittling everyone around him. His cutting remarks no longer had the power to hurt her. That didn’t stop him from making them, however.
    He waved the local section of the Sunday paper in front of her. “Just look at this! There you are, smack in the middle of another murder, your picture on page one. Don’t you give a damn what your son thinks of you?”
    Molly could practically feel Michael tense beside her. He took a protective step closer.
    “Brian seems to think his mother is a very special woman. I’d say he’s got it nailed,” he said to Hal. His voice was deceptively mild.
    Hal’s face reddened. “This is none of your business. We’re talking about my son.”
    Michael stepped toward her ex-husband, but Molly put her hand on his arm to stop him from defending her. She was getting better all the time at standing up for