Page 31 of Tell Me Your Desires

Chapter Seventeen

Jaime frowned as she pulled up to the station and saw Max standing outside. She stared at him through the open driver’s side window. “What’s up?”

“The fuck you been?” Max grumbled as he jerked her passenger door open and slid inside. “I’ve been calling you all night and morning.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Jaime scrubbed a hand down her face. “I… just needed some time to get my head straight. I’m good now. Ready.”

“Oh, well, perfect. Detective Baros is fucking ready. That makes me so happy. We could have used you yesterday while we went through a ton of shit, but whatever.”

Jaime frowned. Max wasn’t usually this harsh with her. Of course, she’d never been this flaky before, either. Even after Taylor died, Jaime still did her job.

“Look, I said I’m sorry, Max. You wanna dock me, go ahead. I know I’ve fucked up. This case has been nothing but dead ends. And then the fuckin’ brothel…” Jaime shook her head. “It all hit me pretty hard, and I got distracted. That ends now, okay? I’m focused.”

Max’s scowl softened. “Sorry. I’m tired and cranky. The coffee in-house sucks, and you were right. That alone pisses me off.”

“I’ll get you a damn coffee.” Jaime put the car in drive. “Wait, I was right about what?” She pulled away from the curb. Since she had no clue where Max wanted to go, she decided Starbucks was the most logical place to get Max’s attitude in check.

“Lady A. She’s definitely involved somehow.”

Jaime nearly swerved off the road as her heart plummeted to her stomach. T-that can’t be right. “What, uh, what did you find that led you to that conclusion?”

“Well, if you’d been at work where you were supposed to be, you’d know.”

“Max.” Jaime was done taking Max’s bullshit attitude.

She’d already apologized. She wasn’t going to do it again.

And now she had to think about the woman she’d just been with as a cold-blooded killer.

It didn’t add up in her head. The woman Jaime had spent time with last night was gentle and caring.

She had a cat, for fuck’s sake. How could she be a killer?

“Each murder gives us another clue, right? With this one being in a different location, we decided to go through the other victims’ belongings again to see if anything popped. That’s when we found them.”

“Found what?” Jaime’s stomach roiled. She swallowed as she rooted around the console for some gum. She needed something to help keep the bile down.

“Lady A’s business cards. Every victim had one.”

Fuck.

Max took his notebook from the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

He flipped it open, turning to the page he wanted.

“We gave Frank a little wake-up call. Told him cops and feds—including the IRS—would be swarming the place if he didn’t give up Lady A’s real name.

That lit a fire under his ass. Got a name and an address. ”

Max reached over and plugged an address into Jaime’s GPS. An address Jaime knew all too well wasn’t where they needed to be going.

“Anastasia Grant,” Max continued as though Jaime didn’t have an existential crisis going on in her head.

“There’s not a lot of background on her.

She’s been working at the club for four years.

Started when she was,” he paused to look at his notes.

“Forty-nine.” He glanced over at Jaime. “That body? That face? I would have never guessed that age. Anyway, before that? Nothing.”

Oh, that body. Jaime clenched her jaw, her nostrils flared as she tried to keep her thoughts in check. Only she was struggling to actually do that. Anastasia had been… impeccable last night. The way she touched Jaime. That mouth as it lowered, and lowered, and—stop! “What do you mean nothing?”

“It’s like she didn’t exist before the club.”

“Are you saying her name is an… alias?”

“I’m saying there’s more to her than we know. And a background check turned up bupkis.”

Despite the turmoil going through Jaime’s mind, Max’s use of the word bupkis tickled her.

Maybe it was a defense mechanism. If she didn’t laugh, she would cry.

Or go fucking insane. Her hands shook, so she gripped the wheel until her knuckles were white.

Thankfully, there was a Starbucks she could pull into and try to gather the courage to tell Max they were going to the wrong address.

“Coffee break already, Baros?”

“This is for you, my man. The way you bit my head off earlier… I think it’s best to get some caffeine in you before you go interrogating potential suspects.” That sounded credible, right? Max was an excellent detective, but he couldn’t possibly know what was happening inside Jaime’s head right now.

“Yeah, fine. Get me a Venti Americano.” Max returned to his notepad, reviewing whatever notes he had written.

Jaime went through the drive-thru and ordered, taking a chance on a black coffee for herself. She handed Max his giant cup and pulled into a parking spot.

“Can’t drink coffee and drive at the same time, Baros?”

“There’s something I need to tell you, Max.”

Jaime’s serious tone caught Max’s attention. “It can’t wait until after we’ve talked to Ms. Grant?”

Jaime shook her head. The longer she sat on this, the worse she would feel. “It has to do with… Ms. Grant. I, uh…knew her name. And I know that the address you have for her is bogus. I mean, it’s a real address, but she doesn’t live there. She rents it out.”

Max replaced the lid on his cup and put it in the cup holder before turning in his seat to look at Jaime. “Excuse me?”

Jaime sighed. Yeah, she’d fucked up. Monumentally, it seemed, but it was better to be upfront as much as she could be and hope that Max was too focused on cracking this case than on Jaime’s fucking idiotic behavior.

“Look, I know you told me to leave it alone, but something about her… Anyway, I waited for her at the club one night.” Okay, so you’re not telling the whole story.

Probably the best idea right now. “When she got in her car, I had Benson run the plates.”

She winced when Max merely tapped his tense fingers on his coffee cup.

“Go on,” Max said stiffly.

Jaime shrugged. “I went to the address. A family lives there. I thought it was her family, but the dude said his wife was out of town. Told me he rented the place through a company. It was another roadblock in this case, and it pissed me off. So, I, um, went back to the club. This time when she came out, I followed her home.”

“Jaime!”

“I know! But look, something is definitely off with her. Maybe we’re looking at this wrong, I don’t know, but I do know she took an indirect route home.”

“Maybe she made you. There aren’t many cars on the road at that time of night. Wouldn’t be hard to notice someone following you.”

The disapproval in Max’s voice was palpable. “She didn’t make me, Max. But think about it. Fake address, alternate route? What is she hiding?”

“Or hiding from.” Max took his pen out and jotted a few things down. “Did you talk to her?”

Fucking fuck! She wasn’t ready to have that conversation with Max, not after all these revelations.

“Nah, it was way too late to go knocking on her door when she got home. I just wanted to get the info we were lacking. I didn’t do a deep dive, Max.

I literally found all this out yesterday.

” Partial truths weren’t really lies, were they?

Oh, you are so fucked when he finds out the truth.

“So when you said you were getting your head straight, you were going behind my back and investigating someone I told you to stay away from?”

“I’m sorry…”

Max held up his hand, cutting Jaime off. “Looks like your gut was right. I don’t like how you did things, but it was effective.” He gestured to the GPS. “Do you need that, or do you know where you’re going?”

“I…know where I’m going.”

Anya sipped her tea, staring out into her backyard.

Her appetite was nil, and her motivation to get dressed and do something productive…

even lower. She should have known what Jaime was up to.

Why didn’t she? Was she so blinded by the idea of being with someone as Anya that she missed the signs?

Anya shook her head. No, she ignored the warnings.

Jaime showing up at the club, paying for a session, making an excuse to follow Anya home.

Anya had been so preoccupied with her attraction that she overlooked the warnings.

“It’s your own fault,” Anya chastised herself. “You thought someone could actually like you for you.” She huffed as Derek head-butted her. “Yeah, you’re the only one, bud. And sometimes I think you only like me because I feed you.”

“Meow.”

Anya began pouring herself another cup of tea when her doorbell rang.

“If she’s back, I need you to do your best impression of a panther.

” She pulled out her phone, opened her security app, and frowned.

Jaime was back. But she wasn’t alone. Humiliated and now…

betrayed. Jaime had brought Max with her. Anya pressed the speaker function.

“Yes?”

She watched as Jaime looked up at the camera. Regret was written all over her face. Fantastic. If Anya had doubts about how Jaime felt, the regret surely cured that.

“Ms. Grant,” Max answered. “It’s Detectives Fraser and Baros. We need to speak with you about the case.”

He doesn’t know that his partner fucked me last night. And fucked me over this morning. Anya could be petty and bring it up in front of Detective Fraser, but that wasn’t who she was.

“I’ve told you everything I know, Detectives.”

Max held up an evidence bag containing four of Lady A’s business cards. “No, I don’t think you have, Ms. Grant.”

Anya’s brows furrowed even deeper. Did Maisie have Lady A’s cards on her? Anya couldn’t imagine why that would matter when they knew Maisie was her assistant. So, what did they have to do with the case? Only one way to find out. Even if you don’t want to see Jaime’s face again.

“Liar,” Anya whispered. “One moment,” she said through the intercom.