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look alone.
    When Ward Dandridge stared questioningly at Alexa, Derek laughed. “No, his name wasn’t Chambless, was it? But the fellow was a football player, wasn’t he? Not Chambless, though. If I recall, he was a big, burly brute with—what did you say at the time? Oh yes, that he had more muscles than brains.”
    â€œYou’re mistaken. That’s not my type,” Alexa said coolly. “But we’re getting off subject. Ward did so want your thoughts on the murder case.”
    â€œAnd just what does Tagg Chambless have to do with the murder case?” Derek asked.
    â€œOh, the victim was Tagg’s wife,” Ward said. “Gorgeous woman, even if she was little more than a plastic doll. She’d had all sorts of cosmetic surgery. Everything from breast implants to rhinoplasty.”
    Derek wished he could think of a diplomatic way to escape. It had become apparent that Ward Dandridge loved gossip, and discussing other people’s private lives bored Derek.
    â€œI’d love to hear more,” Derek lied. “Maybe later. I really should find Mother and wish her a happy birthday.”
    Alexa tightened her hold on Derek’s arm, leaned close and whispered, “Stay. Please. Ward’s a friend of Daddy’s and I simply can’t be rude to him.”
    â€œI’ll make this quick,” Dandridge said, apparently determined to drag an opinion out of Derek. “Mrs. Chambless, Tagg’s wife, had quite a reputation. The lady used to be an actress of sorts. She starred in several”—he cleared his throat— “adult films and was a Playboy centerfold about ten or eleven years ago.
    â€œThe woman was shot numerous times, killed right there in her own home.” Dandridge lowered his voice. “The police never released certain information, but Tagg shared a few things with me. Seems when the maid found her, she was naked and was wearing a mask of some sort. Odd, don’t you think?”
    â€œYes, quite odd,” Derek agreed.
    â€œYou would assume that she was raped, considering the fact she was naked, but Tagg said she wasn’t. Raped, that is.”
    â€œHmm…” Derek wasn’t sure what Dandridge wanted him to say. Did the man honestly think he could come up with a profile of the killer with no more information than that?
    â€œOh God, who invited him?” Alexa asked with utter disdain in her voice.
    â€œWho?” Dandridge inquired as he glanced right and left.
    Derek followed his cousin’s cold glare, which was aimed directly at a man Derek knew, liked, and respected.
    â€œCamden Hendrix.” Alexa spoke his name as if she were saying Attila the Hun. “The man is a barbarian.”
    Derek grinned when Cam looked his way and immediately came over to speak to him.
    To break the sudden uneasy silence, Derek introduced the two men, who apparently knew each other by reputation. “And of course, you know Cam, don’t you, Alexa.”
    â€œWe’ve met.” Icicles hung on her words.
    â€œLooking as lovely as ever,” Cam said, but did little more than glance briefly at Alexa before he turned back to Derek. “Good to see a friendly face. I thought maybe Nic and Griff would be here. I haven’t seen them in a couple of months.”
    â€œI believe they’re off on a second honeymoon,” Derek said. “Something spur of the moment.” As a Powell Agency employee, he had received the text message sent out that morning to inform everyone that Sanders was in charge while the agency’s owners were away.
    â€œIs that how you finagled an invitation to Aunt Happy’s birthday party—because you’re Griffin Powell’s lawyer?” Alexa asked, knowing full well how rude her question was.
    Cam chuckled. “Actually, your cousin Diana invited me. My firm is representing her husband’s brother in his divorce case.”
    â€œI say, Hendrix, have