Deadly Intent

“Sorry, Dad, something came up.”

“Are you okay?” Dad asked.

“I’m fine. Martin and Jared were here, and Devon’s here with me, too.”

“Devon Knightley? Why is he there?”

“I had his cell phone—”

“So you let him into the spa at this hour? The man who showed up just when you found the dying woman?”

Devon’s smile shifted to a pained expression, and a faint dimple appeared in one cheek. She’d never noticed it before…wait a minute, could he hear her father? “If you want to complain, talk to Aunt Becca. She’s the one who told him to drive out to the spa to find me.”

“Oh.” Dad’s voice dropped to normal decibels again. “Well, come home right now.”

“Yes, sir.” She ended the call.

“Naomi.” Devon’s voice, strong and low, planted her to the ground as effectively as the serious glint in his eyes. “I know it looks suspicious. But I didn’t kill Jessica.” He looked as if he needed her to believe him somehow.

“I…” What could she say? “It’s hard.”

His mouth tightened as he turned away for a second. “I know. But why would I deliberately ask for a woman I’d just killed?”

He had a point. She’d have found Jessica within a few minutes anyway, since the dying woman was in her massage room.

“Besides, the detective will see from the video surveillance that I never entered the building before walking in to ask for her.”

Well, that made her feel stupid. She looked down at her twined hands.

“How do I know you didn’t kill her?” Devon asked.

“What? Why would I kill her? Doing it in my own massage room?”

“It would make it look like you’re being framed.”

“Bringing down bad publicity on my own spa?”

Devon smiled. “Look, we’re both suspects even though I didn’t have the means and you didn’t have a motive. Why don’t we just call a truce?” He held out his hand.

He was right. “Sure.”