Button Box Mystery: Hot Button Part 5

Yeah, one with shiny bra.s.s b.u.t.tons on it that I would have recognized anywhere.

"YOU DON'T ACTUALLY think I had something to do with some guy who got murdered, do you?"

Kaz looked at me when he asked the question. He would have been better served to keep his eyes on Nev. After all, Nev was the one leaning against the far wall of the hotel's security office, writing down every word Kaz said.

Nev's eagle-eye gaze didn't flicker away from Kaz for a second. "So you admit that's your suit jacket in the linen room with the victim?" Nevin asked.

Kaz ran his tongue over his lips. "Well, yeah. It was in the linen room, all right. But not in the linen room with the victim. At least last time I saw the jacket. Last I was in that room, there was no victim. Just towels and such."

Nev made note of this, too.

While Nev was busy, Kaz smoothed one hand through his hair. It was a gesture I'd seen him use before, mostly when he was nervous about telling me he'd lost some sure bet. I can't say I felt sorry for him. I can say I was glad Kaz had the sense to be worried. "This cop boyfriend of yours..." Kaz lowered his voice and tipped his head toward Nev. "He doesn't really think-"

"That it's pretty funny that your jacket just happened to be at the scene of a murder you claim you don't know anything about? He sure does." I made a mental note: Nev has really good hearing. No doubt the ease of Nev's movements had come with long practice. He crossed the security office, whirled a chair so that when he sat in it he was facing Kaz, and gave my ex a level look. "When you think about it, you've got to admit it's more odd than funny."

"It is." Kaz had loosened his black bow tie soon after two plainclothes detectives had plucked him out of the banquet and walked him into the office. Now, he played with the ends of it. It was a fidgety thing for a guy who is usually all about cool, calm, and collected, and just watching him, my stomach jumped.

It clenched into a painful ball when Nev asked the next logical question. "You want to explain?"

"I do." Hearing those two particular words from Kaz did nothing to calm me. I'd been sitting at a desk flanked by monitors that showed the goings-on in the lobby, the hotel gift shop, and the loading dock behind the building, and I stood and paced to the other side of the room. When I turned around, Kaz's eyes were still on me. "It's kind of embarra.s.sing," he said.

Believe me, it took every ounce of self-control I had not to throw my hands in the air and tell him it couldn't possibly be. Over the years, Kaz had done so many boneheaded and heartless things, adding another one to the list shouldn't have been a stretch.

Which made me wonder why this incident in particular was so different.

And that only made me more jumpy than ever.

I held my breath and watched Kaz twine his hands together on his lap. "I kind of need a place to stay," he said. "Just for a little while."

"That's why you went around to my apartment the other day!" OK, so raising an arm and pointing a finger at Kaz was a tad overdramatic. It's not like he didn't deserve it. "You were going to ask me if you could crash at my place. That's why you're being so nice to me here at the conference, too. Pretending to be my a.s.sistant and picking up Thad at the airport, and-"

"Did you? Pick up Mr. Wyant from the airport?"

This was one little detail Nev knew nothing about, and I had to give him credit. He stuck to his guns (no pun intended) and did his objective homicide detective best to ignore the current of emotion that shivered between me and Kaz like the electrical charge that builds before a thunderstorm. "Was that the first you ever met the victim?"

"Sure." Kaz nodded. "You don't think I hang around with this b.u.t.ton crowd, do you? I mean, except for Jo. And Jo was there, too. At the airport, I mean. She'll tell you. It's not like I knew this Wyant guy or anything. It's not like I even cared. I was just trying to... you know, help Jo out."

"So I'd invite you to stay in my hotel room with me."

This came out sounding far more personal than I'd intended, but once I'd spoken, it was too late to call the words back. I couldn't do anything about the heat that shot into my cheeks, either.

Kaz's shoulders should have drooped. I mean, anybody else in this situation would have had the brains to look remorseful. Instead, he pulled his shoulders back, and his eyes glinted.

"I knew you'd cave sooner or later," he said, proving once again that he'd never gotten to know me very well in the three years we'd been married or the year since we'd gotten divorced. "Last night I didn't know what else to do so I hung out in the bar and the lobby for as long as I could, and then... Well, I just sort of wandered around until I found my way down to that linen room."

"And what, got cleaned up in one of the washing machines?"

I don't do sarcasm well, which might explain why both Nev and Kaz looked at me like I had begun speaking in some foreign tongue. That is, right before Kaz shrugged. "You brought your briefcase down to the registration table this morning, and your room key was in it and-"

"You broke into my hotel room?"

"Well, technically, I had a key, and-"

The stress of the last hour exploded in me and I swung toward Nev. "You can arrest him, right? You heard what he said. He said-"

"I needed a place to clean up," Kaz admitted. "And I figured you wouldn't mind, Jo."

A memory clicked inside my brain. "You moved my comb!"

"Dang! Did I? I hate it when I'm careless. I used it, see, and I meant to put it back. I just..." Like one twitch of those broad shoulders was supposed to explain? "Housekeeping knocked, and I figured I should get out of there as soon as I could. You know, before they noticed anything weird."

My hands curled into fists, I stepped toward Kaz.

Lucky thing, cooler heads prevailed. And that the cool head belonged to Nev. "We'll sort all that out later," he said. "For now-"

His cell phone rang.

Nev checked the caller ID, excused himself, and stepped out of the office.

"Sorry."

"Don't even try." I shot Kaz a look. "You've never been sorry in your life, and you're sure not sorry now. You've been playing Mr. Nice Guy just so I'd let you stay with me. And you broke into my hotel room."

"You gonna press charges?"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "It would serve you right if I did."

A smile shivered at the corners of his mouth. "But you won't."

"I should."

"But-"

Now, Kaz's cell rang. He answered, and that hopeful little shimmer in his eyes dissolved in an instant. "Amber! It's great to hear from you." Kaz turned his back and continued his conversation. "No, it's like I said; I'm in Paris, and I won't be home for at least a few more days. You understand, don't you?" He listened for the s.p.a.ce of a heartbeat. "I knew you would. I'll call. Really. It's just that I have to catch the Metro now and-"

With that, he hung up.

"I can explain," he said.

I knew he was talking about the phone call, not about why his blazer was at the scene of a crime. I held up a hand to stop him. "I don't want to hear it."

"But-"

"And really, I don't care."

It was nice of Nev to walk back into the room so I didn't have to prove it.

"You're free to go," he told Kaz. "But not until you give these officers your clothes so we can test them for traces of blood. After that, you'll want to stay close."

"Sure." Kaz sidled out of the office.

"What next?" Nev knew I wasn't talking about Kaz. Or at least I hoped he did.

"We'll interview everyone tomorrow, starting with those people you mentioned earlier." He shook his head, and his hair fell in his eyes. "Who would have thought there could be this much drama at a b.u.t.ton conference?"

Chapter Six.

"YOU REALLY DIDN'T HAVE TO-"

"I know." At the door of my hotel suite, Nev shifted from foot to foot, looking even more rumpled than he had when he first arrived at the crime scene down in the bas.e.m.e.nt hours earlier. He rubbed a hand across eyes the color of a spring sky. Right about then, it was a sky streaked with every shade of sunset red. I imagined my eyes must have looked just as weary. They felt like they were filled with sand. "I know you could have gotten back to your room by yourself. But I didn't like the thought of you walking around on your own this late. There's already been one murder in this hotel tonight."

"There isn't going to be another."

He gave me a lopsided grin. "I know that and you know that. Let's hope the killer knows it, too."

It was an uncomfortable reminder of all we'd seen in the linen room, and I shivered.

"You're tired." Nev stepped back. "And I need to go. I've got to wrap up downstairs and make sure the scene is secured, then get back to the station. There will be a mountain of extra paperwork to take care of, thanks to Thad Wyant. You are..." The elevator dinged to announce its presence on the floor, and he back-stepped toward it with more energy than he should have had considering how hard he'd already worked that night. "You're going to help me, right?"

"Investigate?" It was late, and my voice was loud. I repeated the question in a stage whisper but that did nothing to alter the uncertainty of it. Sure, I'd investigated before, and successfully, too, but I am a b.u.t.ton dealer, not a detective. "I can introduce you around," I said, my voice just loud enough so Nev could hear it. "I can point you in the direction of the people we talked about earlier. But other than that-"

"You did a great job last time." The elevator doors slid open, and with one arm, Nev made sure they stayed that way.

"Last time, I helped because of a b.u.t.ton."

"And this time, it's because of a b.u.t.ton expert."

"But I can't-"

"Sure you can."

The elevator buzzed its displeasure at being held up, and I pictured people in the nearby rooms being awakened from a sound sleep and people on the floors below waiting impatiently for the elevator to arrive. Yeah, I know it was silly to be worried about things like that, but as I'd found out on that earlier investigation, when I'm faced with the overwhelming horror of murder, focusing on the little things helps keep me sane.

"I'll try," I said, mostly because I couldn't stand to hear that buzzing any longer. "See you tomorrow."

Nev checked his watch. "It's already tomorrow, so I'll see you later. And Josie..." He'd already stepped into the elevator and he poked his head out. This time, his smile was wide. "Looks like we've got something else to talk about, huh?"

We did, and though I couldn't say I was exactly happy about the circ.u.mstances, I realized I was glad I'd be seeing Nev again, and soon. Smiling, I slid my key card into the slot on the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside my room. But when I went to close the door again, a man stuck his foot in the way, Startled, my adrenaline shot to the moon, and I gasped and pushed on the door harder.

"Ouch!"

I recognized the voice, and that adrenaline rush dissolved in a moment of pure annoyance. I wasn't the least bit surprised when I opened the door and saw Kaz jumping around the hallway on one foot. Yeah, like a little b.u.mp with the door hurt that much.

I crossed my arms over my chest. If it wasn't for that, I was sure he'd see my heart trying to batter its way out of my black-lace dress. I didn't need surprises. Not on a night I'd already been way too close to a murder. I looked down the hallway and realized there was a potted palm there. No wonder I hadn't seen Kaz when I walked up to the door. "So you were watching me from behind a potted palm? What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?"

He looked down at the blue top and drawstring-waist cotton pants, which reminded me of a doctor's scrubs. "They took my clothes. The cops," he said, answering my second question before he answered my first. "And you heard what your friend told me downstairs." He stopped hopping so he could tip his head toward the elevator. "He told me I had to stay close."

"He didn't mean this close."

Kaz reserved the really devastating smile for occasions just like this. His sparked and lit up the hallway. "I can't stay down in the linen room again tonight. And the thing about me staying close... It is a police order."

"Why not just steal my room key again and make yourself right at home?"

Kaz doesn't recognize sarcasm when it hits him right over the head. That smile got even bigger. "I would if I had the chance. With the cops around and all..." His shrug was as casual as can be. "Hey, you don't want me to get in trouble with the cops, do you, Jo?"

My sigh was as much of an answer as he needed. I stepped aside, and he stepped inside.

"Suite, huh?" Kaz looked around at the living-room area and leaned forward for a peek into the bedroom and bathroom. "Pretty snazzy."

"It's not exactly the height of luxury, but we had to choose a reasonably priced hotel for the conference." I set my evening bag and room key on the coffee table in front of a chintz sofa in shades of blue and yellow and kicked off my shoes. "I needed the extra room." I waved toward the dining table, which was piled with extra conference booklets and the leftovers we had of the bags we handed out to each attendee, along with the giveaways we'd been sent by b.u.t.ton manufacturers and vintage dealers. "But then, you've already been here. I'm sure you took a good look around then."

Kaz was immune to the steel in my voice. Always had been, and if I was smart, I would remember that he always would be. He strolled over to the minibar and had just put his hand on the door to open it when his cell rang.

"Hey, I've been meaning to call you!"

It wasn't like I had any intention of eavesdropping, but heck, it was my room, and I wasn't going to run and hide so he could talk in private. Instead, I listened to the hum of his conversation while I went into the bedroom and changed into my cotton pajamas and the terry bathrobe I'd brought from home. I washed up and brushed my teeth, and I'd just stepped out of the bathroom when Kaz said, "I'd better go. It's really late here."

He paused for a second, listening to the caller, then blurted out, "Early. Sure, that's what I meant. It's really early here in London. It's late in Chicago where you are, and I really should let you get to bed. I'll bet you're exhausted. I'll talk to you soon. Bye!"

"Paris," I said, as soon as he put down the phone. In answer to his Huh? look, I explained. "When you talked to Amber earlier, you told her you were in Paris. This time, you said London. Unless, of course, that wasn't Amber."

"It was." Kaz flopped down on the couch. "She's really terrific," he said.

"But..."

His sigh was monumental. The cops had taken his tuxedo jacket, pants, shirt, and bow tie so they could search for traces of blood on them (standard procedure, Nev had a.s.sured me) and had allowed Kaz to change into the one of the outfits the hotel staff members wore when they were at work in the bas.e.m.e.nt laundry. He looked relaxed, at ease, and a little too comfortable on my couch. Well, except for the little shade of green that tinged his expression when he talked about Amber. "But... well... you know I'm not looking for anything permanent. I mean, not anymore."

I could have pointed out that I had come to the painful but inevitable conclusion that he never had been, but it was late, and I was tired, and rehashing our relationship wasn't going to get us anywhere. When it came to me and Kaz, there wasn't any place left to go.

Maybe Kaz realized it, too. He leaned back. "I met Amber down in Florida a month or so ago."

I cinched the tie belt on my robe and sank into the chair opposite the couch. "And let me guess, you're so darned charming, she just can't forget you. That's why she keeps calling."

"Worse than that. She's here. In Chicago."

The light dawned. "Which explains why you need a place to hide out."

"I'm not exactly hiding." He was, of course, and because he refused to face the truth, Kaz got up and did a turn around the room, moving aside the drapes so he could take a gander at the skysc.r.a.pers that surrounded us. "It's just that when we met... Well, Amber's pretty and blonde." He dropped the curtains back into place and turned to face me. "She's a school psychologist in Sarasota, and heck, I just work down at the Port of Chicago. I wanted to impress her, you know?"

"So you didn't tell her you were my a.s.sistant here at the b.u.t.ton conference?"