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he believe her or not?
    He scratched his head. “What do you do when you catch them? Put them in your trunk?”
    She blinked. “No. I take them outside and let them go.”
    “Oh.” He continued to look at her. “Don’t they just come back inside?”
    She recalled Nana and Ellen asking her the same thing. “Probably, but my point is I don’t kill them. Because I’m not a killer.”
    He didn’t seem impressed. Obviously, using live traps wasn’t considered evidence. Glancing back at his pad, he asked, “What were you and your ex arguing about at the restaurant?”
    “We weren’t arguing. He wasn’t thrilled when I used my fingers to fish out the shrimp in his gumbo, but we didn’t argue.”
    “Then why did he leave and stick you with the bill?”
    “I don’t know. He was on the phone when I got there. He left, then came back and told me he was in some kind of trouble. I asked what was going on, but his phone rang again and he said he had to take it. He asked me to order and walked away.”
    “She’s telling the truth,” a deep, male voice said from directly behind Detective O’Connor.
    Nikki had to lean a good five inches to the right to look at the face of her much-needed, much-appreciated, supporter. Not that looks mattered. If she wasn’t in desperateneed of a breath mint, she would have kissed him. She really needed someone in her corner right now.
    The moment her gaze met his blue eyes, her focus shifted downward to the dusty blue T-shirt stretched across his wide chest. Thank goodness he’d changed his shirt.
    Detective O’Connor swung around and faced the newcomer. “Why are you here?”
    “I just got back from Venny’s Restaurant, spoke to the waiter.” His blue-eyed gaze met hers again and he nodded.
    “Damn it, Dallas,” the detective said. “You’re not a cop.”
    Not a cop. Dallas
. Taking in the information, she watched the two men face each other.
    Dallas stuffed both his hands into his jeans and frowned. “But I am a PI.”
    So not-a-cop Dallas was a PI
. What was a private investigator doing here?
    “This isn’t your problem,” Detective O’Connor insisted. “Don’t you even start messing with my case.”
    “You mean helping, right? Because I just gave your boys the heads up on the real crime scene in back of the restaurant. I’m betting Ms. Hunt was parked back there.” Dallas looked at her. “Right?”
    Nikki nodded.
    “Blood?” Detective O’Connor asked.
    “Yup. There was also a set of keys, which I pointed out to your guys. I’ll bet you’ll find they belong to her ex. And if my hunch is right, you’ll find he had a key to her car.”
    Both men looked at her to confirm. “He used to have one,” she said, trying to understand what this meant. “You think he was stealing my car?”
    “Not necessarily,” Dallas said. “But it would explain how he got inside your trunk.”
    “Fine,” Detective O’Connor snapped. “So you’ve managed to show up my men by getting to the restaurant first.”
    “Actually, they were there first. They just didn’t check the parking lot in the back.”
    “Just get the hell away from my case.” Detective O’Connor’s grimace deepened.
    The intimidating scowl didn’t seem to affect Dallas. “Just trying to get to the truth.”
    “We’ll get to the truth,” the detective said.
    “Oh, like the system doesn’t make mistakes.” Now, Dallas looked mad.
    Detective O’Connor didn’t back down. “This isn’t the system, it’s me. I don’t make mistakes.”
    Ignoring the last statement, Dallas looked back at her. He seemed to focus on the Pepto-Bismol–pink tub in her lap. “Considering what else I found in the parking lot, it appears as if the vic was also sick. I’m thinking someone slipped something into their dinner.”
    “Someone poisoned me?” Nikki asked.
    “She’s not your client,” the detective snapped, ignoring Nikki.
    Dallas glanced at her. “She could be.”
    “Someone poisoned me?” she