Jane knew how to play the interrogation game. She’d grilled countless witnesses and knew how to distract and cloud an issue.
“I never said the client was male.”
He frowned. “You disappoint me, Jane.”
She wondered if the women he’d murdered had all “disappointed” in him some way as well.
“What do you mean?”
“Who’s the man? The one I saw lounging on your bed—the one I presume you’re breaking bread with now. He looked familiar.”
Apparently, the element of surprise was gone. She could either apologize or launch a counterattack. Jane was feeling braver now that she wasn’t trapped in a room with him. Having a ruthless mobster as a partner didn’t hurt either.
“So you don’t deny you planted those cameras. You violated my privacy.”
Byron jumped out of the desk chair and paced the length of the room. A muscle worked in his jaw, and his nostrils flared. Even Jane could tell he was about ready to lose it.
“I was watching out for you, protecting you.”
“You mean spying on me. And I believe the penal code refers to it as stalking. Since you had to install them, I believe breaking and entering is also up for grabs.”
She hadn’t intended to get worked up, but her nerves were frayed. Her plan depended on Valentine suspecting nothing. Dialing it down and being cordial seemed the best course of action.
“What’s his name, Jane?”
“Since we’re talking about my private life, it’s none of your business, Oscar.”
“I told you the other night. Everything about you is my business, I want to know you inside and out, my Jane. Tell me who the man is and what you’ve been doing with him. I’ll decide on an appropriate punishment, and then we can put this whole shameful affair behind us and start again.”
A punishment? She didn’t even want to know what he had in mind.
“Oscar, I—”
“That’s it. I’ve reached my limit.” Byron snatched the phone from her hand. “His name’s Byron Beauregard.”
Oh, no. So much for the calm approach.
But the damage was done, so Jane listened in.
Valentine sighed gustily. “Byron Beauregard. Your reputation precedes you. My, my Jane, you do keep dangerous company.”
“Yes, she does.” Byron smirked. “And Jane’s done talkin’ to you. You’ll have to deal with me instead.”
“No one stands between me and what’s mine.”
“Funny, I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” Byron cocked a brow.
Jane considered pointing out she didn’t belong to anyone but decided it wouldn’t be worth the wasted breath. The men were locked in some sort of alpha male dominance display.
“I know who and what you are.” Oscar sounded awfully judgmental for a man who killed innocent women.
“And what’s that?”
“A criminal, a Lothario. You’re not worthy of Jane, even if she’s been faithless. It’s not too late to ask for forgiveness and get back in my good graces.”
Jane could tell the last bit was intended for her. Valentine knew something was afoot, and worse, he was livid with her. Neither one of those facts added up to a long and happy life for her.
“Are you hard of hearin’? I said, your conversation’s over.”
“Only death will part us.”
Jane had no doubt Valentine meant it. She clasped her knees tightly together and wrapped her arms around her thighs. One of the rages was building, and she had to get it under control. The murderer issue aside, Valentine was ruining her life, professionally and personally. Someone infringing on her boundaries was threatening on every level.
“Yeah, I’m startin’ to think it’s the only way this ends too.” Byron’s meaning was crystal clear. “And, from what I heard, you’re quite the lady killer yourself, Mr. Valentine.”
Her heartbeat sped up, and she cast admonishing eyes on Byron. Don’t antagonize him. Jane hoped her expression conveyed her disapproval.
“Has Jane been talking out of turn? Did she come to you for protection?”
“No, dumbass, I saw the news.” Byron didn’t even miss a beat. The lie rolled off his tongue easily.
“Then you know the jury didn’t indict me. I’m an innocent man.”
“Yeah, me too.” Byron chuckled. “Since we’re both non-convicted men, what’s your take on this here situation? Because you were charged with these murders, you must’ve formed some theory of the crime. What’s your insight?”
There was a grave silence on the other end of the phone.
To deal with the terrible tension, she flipped the necklace through her fingers.