Page 17 of Liar's Point

She smiled. “Cassie Miller?”

“Yes.”

“She’s in my studio next door.”

Her studio next door.

“Oh. Thank you.” Nicole walked out, and Emmet stood on the sidewalk. He pointed to the sign painted on the door.

“That’s the martial arts academy.”

Nicole glanced around. “Yeah. They’ve changed everything since I was here last.”

“Damn, they’re busy,” Emmet said, pulling open the neighboring door.

Busy was an understatement. The lobby area was crowded with spandex-clad people, mostly young and mostly female. The scent of sandalwood incense hung in the air, masking the smell of sweat. Nicole darted a look at Emmet, who seemed remarkably unfazed by all the dewy young bodies. All the women turned to look at him—which was what always happened when Emmet entered a room. Nicole used to get annoyed, but she was used to it now.

Squeezing through the crowd, she made her way to the reception counter, where a thin, thirtyish man was ringing up a T-shirt sale. They’d opened a gift shop, apparently, and seemed to be doing a brisk business in yoga gear and aromatherapy.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for—”

“Nicole.”

She turned around, and Emmet jerked his head toward the hallway.

Nicole spied Cassandra Miller in the corridor. She wore a formfitting lilac-colored outfit and had her hair in a long braid again. She hooked a white towel around her neck and reached for a glass door.

“Cassandra?”

She turned. A look of panic came over her face as Nicole approached her.

“Hi. Detective Lawson, remember?”

Cassandra’s mouth dropped open but she didn’t say anything. Then her gaze shifted to Emmet.

“And this is my colleague, Detective Davis. Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “You mean here?”

Emmet smiled, turning on the charm. “We just have a few questions.”

She swallowed. “I can’t. Not right now. I’ve got a class starting and—”

“This shouldn’t take long,” Nicole said, although that wasn’t true at all.

Cassandra started to say something, then seemed to change her mind. She glanced past Nicole.

“Reese? Hey, I need a favor.”

A tall blond woman stopped in the hallway. She looked straight out of a Lululemon catalogue, right down to the stylish belt bag clipped around her waist.

“Could you get my twelve fifteen started? I have to handle something.”

The woman cast a curious look at Emmet, no doubt noticing the holster peeking out from beneath his leather jacket. “Sure.”

“This way,” Cassandra said, and then led them down the hallway. She stepped into a side nook that was crowded with laundry carts heaped with white towels, and Nicole got the distinct impression the witness didn’t want to be seen talking to police at her workplace.

“What did you need to talk about?” Cassandra looked from Nicole to Emmet and a worry line appeared between her brows.

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