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subconscious level, she noticed JC’s gaze tracking her movement. Yikes . Not preening.
    She dropped her hand. “But you can see why we weren’t too concerned about her whereabouts.”
    Whereabouts? Did she really just use that word in a sentence?
    His dimples flashed, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “No signs of duress?”
    “Duress?” A blush warmed her cheeks and she cursed her fair complexion.  
    “No one saw or knew anything indicating she didn’t leave voluntarily.”
    “Oh. Right.” Brilliant .  
    Hoping to blow past the faux pas , she said, “I talked to Brea—the Stevens Ventures receptionist.”
    He raised an eyebrow, asking how this was relevant.  
    “Last week, when we thought Marcy was missing”— instead of dead —“Brea said Marcy had mentioned a guy named Lee, said he might come by their office, but I don’t know if that’s who Marcy took off with.”
    JC sat up a lot straighter. “Ms. Ramirez’s ex was in town?”
    “Marcy has an ex? I mean, had an ex?” JC seemed to already know about the guy, whoever he was. “Why didn’t she tell people about him? You think he’s the one?”  
    “How long have you been dating Alejandro Montoya?”  
    Holly blinked. “I thought we agreed you’d just ask about Marcy.”
    “Answer the question.” The hard-ass cop was back in charge.  
    Was Alex still a suspect? Or was JC using the investigation as an excuse to pry into her current relationship? “Why?”
    “Holly.” His glare was part threat and part exasperation.  
    “Fine.” She threw up her hands. “Not that it’s any of your official business. Not long, a month or so.”  
    His lips tightened when she emphasized official . “How well do you know him?”
    She wasn’t sure how to answer. Well enough to go out. Well enough to at least think about sex.  
    Yeah, like that was a good idea.  
    Not .  
    None of that was an answer she wanted to give, especially to JC. She shrugged. “I’m getting to know him.”
    JC draped an ankle over his knee. “I need background information. Where does he work?”
    “He owns a restaurant in Pasco. He told the cops about it this morning.”
    The detective lifted an eyebrow, clearly expecting more.
    “What?” She lifted her hands, palm up. She and Alex might not be headed for a happily ever after, but he wasn’t a murderer.
    “I understand he’s Tim Stevens’ business partner.”
    Alex and Tim invested together, but as far as she knew, they weren’t criminal masterminds. “I believe we’ve established that fact. Is there something specific you want to know?”  
    “Tell me about Ms. Ramirez and Tim Stevens’ relationship.”
    “Tim is Marcy’s boss, not her boyfriend.”
    “I know she worked for him. Did Ms. Ramirez get along with him?”
    So now Tim was a suspect? “Everybody gets along with Tim. Tim and his wife Nicole treat everybody—employees, clients—like friends. They asked me to their Labor Day party.”
    “And?” he asked. “Relevance?”
    “Wait a minute.” She crossed to the alcove she used as a home office, rummaged through the drawer, and found a picture. “This was taken at their party. Tim gave all of us a copy.”
    JC squinted at the photo. “Is that Ms. Ramirez?”
    Holly smoothed the creases from the surface. The picture showed half a dozen people clustered in a tight pack. Holly stood to one side, sandwiched between Alex and a property manager. Thankfully, the photo had been taken early in the day and she still wore a cute cover-up over her bathing suit.
    She focused her attention on Marcy. Even with her dark, lustrous hair scraped back in a wind-blown ponytail, wearing a ridiculous John Deere baseball cap, Marcy looked adorable. Her dark eyes glittered with laughter and her grin was wall-to-wall. This was how Holly wanted to remember her, not as the horrible corpse they’d found.  
    Her finger traced the gold necklace at Marcy’s throat and lingered on the intertwined hearts.