"What?" Had Grey known Harrison was the man she'd been talking about? If so, how? And what the hell did he intend to do? Warn Harrison off?
"He's just brushed by Harrison and is moving on to the men's room."
Coincidence? Something within her suspected not.
Suspected Grey's brief encounter with Harrison had been intentional. Though she had no idea what it meant.
"And Harrison?"
"Still talking to the brunette." He hesitated. "Hang on, he just headed to the restroom."
"You got camera's or listening devices in there?"
"No."
"That's a bit slack."
"People pissing, farting and shitting is not something we need to hear or see. Especially when those people are men."
"Meaning you have devices in the women's room?"
"Well, no. Not for lack of trying, though."
"You're sick, you know that?"
"I try my damnedest."
She grinned. "You think Grey and Harrison know each other?"
"Until we know more about Grey, we won't know."
"But Harrison is who he says he is?"
"Yep."
"You going to have security check out the men's?"
"Who's the cop here?"
"That a trick question?"
He chuckled softly. "You sure you're happy where you are?
I'd love to have you on my team."
"Being cooped up in a van with sex-starved men is not my idea of fun."
"We could make it fun." He paused. "Security's just gone in."
Footsteps approached the restroom door. She turned on the tap and scooped up some water. "I'm about to get visitors," she informed Jack. "I'll let you know when it's safe to talk."
Three women pushed through the door, all noise and energy. Eryn splashed the water over herself, closing her eyes and ignoring the three of them as they visited the toilets, washed their hands, and redid their makeup. They were there for a good ten minutes, laughing and chatting like giddy teenagers, though at least one of them was close to forty.
Eryn blew out a relieved breath when they finally left.
"Talk to me, Jack."
"Harrison's just come out of the men's room, and Grey's still in there."
"And the security officer?"
"Reports that Grey was chatting on the phone when he walked in, and Harrison was in one of the stalls. Neither man said anything to the other."
"Did security stay in there until Harrison walked out?"
"No. But Harrison came out a few minutes after the security guy. Looks like it was nothing more than a coincidence."
Somehow, she wasn't buying that. "I might go chat some more with Harrison. Where is he now?"
"Up at the bar, getting a drink."
"And the brunette he was chatting up?"
"On the dance floor with another man."
"Good. I might do some more probing, see if he can remember anything about the five victims."
"Just be careful." ' "Subtle is my middle name."
"Somehow, I doubt that."
She grinned. "So I'll drag him to bed and question him during sex. It's amazing how often truth comes out when the little head is in control."
"I'm not going to dignify that comment with an answer."
"Coward."
"Totally."
She turned off the receiver again and headed out. Pausing just outside the door, she let her gaze roam across the crowded room as she carefully took in the scents.
And just when she least expected it, she caught a wisp of the one she was looking for.
Her heart leapt, then zoomed into high gear. She raised her nose, sniffing lightly as she followed the faint aroma to the right. It led her to the back booths, then drifted away, lost to the unsubtle aromas of flowery perfumes and sweaty sex.
She frowned, glancing around. Two couples inhabited the closest booths, both of them getting down and dirty. The end booth was inhabited by two dark-haired women chatting animatedly.
Grey had been sitting in the end booth earlier this evening.
Coincidence? Maybe not. Yet if he was the killer, why couldn't she smell that smell on him?
She opened her senses a little more, but the aromas lining the air were too thick and too layered, threatening sensory overload again. There was no way on Earth she was going to be able to pick out one faint scent in a room as confined as this, no matter how good her nose.
Still, she walked past each of the booths, acting as if she was searching for someone as she carefully tasted the air.
And caught the faintest trace of that scent again. She stopped, frowning. It seemed to be coming from the booth with the two women in it. Maybe one of those two had met the murderer sometime during the night.
If that was the case, she'd have to tell Jack. They needed a watch put on both women.
At least her catching the scent meant they were on the right track. The killer had been here sometime in the last few hours—maybe he was still here, somewhere. Given Gantry's nonappearance, that would surely mean he was off the suspect list, right alongside Harrison. Grey was the only one left of the three suspects that she couldn't definitely say yay or nay to.
And if he wasn't the killer, who was? Was it someone all five women had rejected? Surely the police had considered that possibility—though undoubtedly, it would be nigh on impossible to check every single man the five women had mated with at this place. As Jack had pointed out, the security cameras didn't cover all areas. There were lots of nooks and crannies where some loving could be had without the camera catching on.
Which left her with Grey and Harrison. And given Grey's reluctance to answer questions, the only man she could interrogate was Harrison. Though she may have wiped him off the suspect list, maybe he could tell them something that might give them a clue as to who the real killer was.
A long shot, but longs shots were all they really had at this point.
She turned and found her gaze meeting Harrison's. He was still at the bar, but he was looking over his shoulder, and there was something in his gaze that suggested he knew exactly where to find her no matter where she was.
A chill ran up her spine, though she wasn't exactly sure why.
With him watching her so closely, she could hardly disappear into the restroom and ask Jack to keep an eye on the women. Especially since Harrison may have been watching when she'd walked out of the restroom. She may have wiped him off the suspect list, but that didn't mean she was right.
She walked up to him, sliding her hand around his waist as she stopped beside him. The heat of him hit like a club, almost making her gasp. Lord, it was like walking into a furnace of desire.
And that made her frown. Something was very off kilter.
He hadn't effected her so strongly before, so why was he doing so now? Or was it merely the fact that the need for satisfaction was growing in intensity, and her hormones were becoming less fussy about where they got it?
She swallowed, then said, in a voice that was a little too husky for her liking, "Care to by a girl a drink?"
His blue eyes met hers. The blatant interest she'd seen earlier was now a bonfire. His lust lashed her skin, making her pulse skip, and race. This man was primed and ready to go—it was just a matter of deciding if she really wanted to go that far.
Though if the desire stirring between them was anything to go by, her hormones had already decided in the affirmative.
"Darlin, you can have anything you want—just as soon as I manage to catch the attention of one of these lovely ladies."
"Easily fixed." Eryn raised two fingers to her lips and gave a shrill whistle. People jumped and stared, but the whistle succeeded in getting them a barperson.
"That's a real handy trick." The amusement crinkling the corners of his blue eyes sent another rush of desire shooting through her veins. "You'll have to teach me."
"It's easy," she teased. "You just put your lips together and blow."