Remember When

someone else did. Someone who bashed me on the head, then called in the tip so I'd get rousted for this."
    She studied the bandage on his temple, but the concern had already chilled out of her eyes. "That doesn't explain what you were doing there in the middle of the night." After I left your bed, she thought. After I spent the night in your bed.
    "I can explain. I need to talk to you privately. Ten minutes. Give me ten minutes."
    "I'd like to hear it. Can I talk to him alone, Vince?"
    "I wouldn't recommend it."
    "I'm a licensed investigator. He knows it." Max jerked a thumb at Vince. "I have a case and a client, and I'm pursuing leads. I'm not free to say any more."
    "Then you'd be wasting all our time," Vince pointed out.
    "Ten minutes, Laine."
    An investigator. A case. In the time it took her to absorb the blow, she'd added her father into the mix. Hurt, anger and resignation rolled through her in a messy trio, but none of it showed. "I'd appreciate the time, Vince. It's personal."
    "Figured as much." Vince pushed to his feet. "As a favor to you, then. I'll be right outside the door. Watch yourself," he added to Max, "or you're going to have a few new bruises to go with the old ones."
    Max waited until the door clicked shut. "You've got very protective friends."
    "How much of the ten minutes do you want to waste on irrelevant observations?"
    "Could you sit down?"
    "I could, but I won't." She walked over to Vince's Mr. Coffee machine. She needed something to do with her hands before she surrendered to impulse and pounded them into Max's face. "What game are you running, Max?"
    "I'm working for Reliance Insurance, and I'm skirting a line telling you that before I clear it with my client."
    "Really? But breaking into my shop after spending several hours having sex with me isn't a line you're worried about, apparently."
    "I didn't know. I didn't expect..." Fuck it, he thought. "I can apologize, but it wouldn't make any difference to you, and wouldn't excuse the way this happened."
    "Well, there we are." She drank coffee, bitter and black. "We're on the same page on something, after all."
    "You can be pissed off at me if you want-"
    "Why, thanks. I believe I will."
    "But you've got to get past it. Laine, you're in trouble."
    She lifted her eyebrows, stared deliberately at the handcuffs. "I'm in trouble?"
    "How many people know you're Elaine O'Hara?"
    She didn't bat an eyelash. He hadn't expected her to be quite that good.
    "You'd be one, apparently. I don't choose to use that name. I changed to my stepfather's name a long time ago. And I fail to see how this is any of your business." She sipped at the coffee. "Why don't we get back to the part where, about an hour after we were sliding around naked on each other, you were arrested for breaking into my place of business."
    Guilt swept over his face but gave her little satisfaction. "One doesn't have anything to do with the other."
    With a nod, she set the coffee down. "With answers like that we don't need our allotted ten minutes."
    "William Young died outside your store," Max said as she took a step toward the door. "Died, according to witness reports, all but in your arms. You must've recognized him."
    Her facade cracked minutely, and the grief eked through. Then she shored it up again. "This sounds more like an interrogation than an explanation. I'm not interested in answering the questions of a man who lied to me, who used me. So you can start telling me what you're doing here and what you want, or I'll bring Vince back in and we'll get started on pressing charges."
    He took a moment. It was all he needed to confirm in his mind that she'd do exactly that. Shove him aside, lock the door, walk away. It was all he needed to understand-he'd toss the job aside before he'd let that happen.
    "I broke into your shop tonight so I could clear you, so I could report to my client this morning that you weren't involved, and so I could tell you the truth."
    "Involved in what? The truth about what?"
    "Sit down for a damn minute. I'm tired of craning my neck."
    She sat. "There. Comfy?"
    "Six weeks ago, diamonds appraised at and insured by Reliance for twenty-eight point four million dollars were stolen from the offices of the International Jewelry Exchange in New York City. Two days later, the body of Jerome Myers, a gem merchant with offices in that location, was found in a New Jersey construction site. Through the investigation it's been determined this merchant was the inside