Rania Algafari. I'd read her personnel file, thin though it was, and even looked at the fuzzy photo that accompanied it, but nothing prepared me for meeting the girl herself. Woman, I should say. There was nothing childlike about the curves hidden under her clothing, although she still managed to project a strange innocence that made me want to beat every other man away with a stick.

And she was nervous.

Whether from meeting me or due to the recent events at Daylesford Hall, I couldn't tell, but every time she swallowed, my eyes fixed on the delicate lines of her neck.

Between her jeans, her dark-red polo neck, and the shapeless cardigan she wore, almost every inch of skin was covered, yet she still managed to be more attractive than any other female in the building. No make-up, and her thick brown hair, so dark it was almost black, was tied back without any ceremony. The only nod to decoration was the necklace she wore, an abstract gold piece on a chain that she tucked inside her top when she saw me looking at it. After that, she kept her eyes fixed on the table, and I wanted to wind my fist around that plait and force her head up to meet my gaze.

My cock began twitching the moment she sat down, which was totally inappropriate.

Behave, Lawson.

Even though the police had already cleared her, and I'd read about her alibi in the file RJ had liberated for me, I asked her questions anyway because I wanted to hear her talk. Those lips. Thick and full, I could imagine them...

Fuck, now she was staring at me. Say something else, Will.

"So, what did you think of Helene?"

"Back when she was alive?"

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Rania's brow crinkled, and the light caught on the dark circles under her eyes. Tired. She was tired and struggling to think straight, and I felt bad for taking up her time when she still had work to do. But not so bad that I stopped questioning her. Then she insulted me without meaning to, and bastard that I was, I pushed her to confess she'd caught Anthony watching porn one evening. Jacking off, if her disgusted expression was any indication. Disgusted by the act itself, or because it was Anthony and he was an alcoholic prick?

My gaze drifted down to her hands. No ring on her finger. Did she have a boyfriend? Surely she must. Which meant I shouldn't have been imagining the little gasp she might give if I kissed her senseless, then...

"Aren't we supposed to be discussing Helene Weston?" she asked.

Discussing Helene was the last thing I wanted to do, especially with a girl who was way at the bottom of the list of suspects, but Lloyd Weston was paying me.

"You didn't seem too keen on that, but now that you mention it..."

And then Rania had surprised me. Another death in this building? Lloyd Weston hadn't mentioned that, and neither had anybody else. More to the point, how did Rania find out?

I had another task for RJ, and also an excuse to talk to the delectable Miss Algafari later this week. A treat indeed. I was tempted to offer her a lift home tonight, just to spend a few more minutes in her company, but as a man who prided himself on his ability to get inside people's heads, I struggled to get a read on her. And I didn't want to scare her off.

No, I'd wait.

At least, that was my initial plan, and then everything changed.

"Why do I get the feeling you're holding something back?" I asked her.

"I don't know, okay? I've answered all your questions, I'm behind on my work, and while I'm very sorry that Mr. Weston found Helene's mutilated body in this building because no father should have to go through that, her death wasn't anything to do with me."

At first, I got caught up in her adorable indignation, but then her words sank in.

Shit.

"Helene's mutilated body? Care to elaborate?"

Rania paused, halfway out of her chair. "I don't understand," she whispered.

"Sit."

She sat slowly, as if her natural desire to resist was fighting against a need to keep her nose clean at work, and she looked far from happy about it.

"None of the information released to the public has mentioned Helene's body being mutilated, so I'm curious as to why you think it was."

The colour drained from her face, leaving those shadows under her eyes darker than ever.

"I'm not sure why I said that."

But I was. Because she knew. That sentence had rolled off her tongue without a second thought, as if she'd said that winter was cold or sugar was sweet.

"What would you say if I told you Helene's breasts were cut off?"

Nothing. She said nothing, but I didn't miss the momentary flicker of confusion that crossed her face.

"Or her eyes were gouged out?"

The confusion turned to fear. Ah, now we were getting someplace. But where did Rania glean that particular snippet of information? The police files had made it clear that the details of Helene's injuries were to be held back from the press. Only the investigating team and of course Lloyd Weston knew the truth. Little facts like that were often kept secret to ward off copycats and set traps like the one Rania had just fallen into.

And I hadn't even set it on purpose. Pure, dumb luck.

But now Rania was on her feet. "I'm done here. You said you couldn't keep me."

I waved towards the door, the momentary spark of attraction I'd felt fizzling out as I struggled with the revelation that Rania knew more about this crime than she was letting on.

But how was she so well-informed?

***

"Spell that name for me again," RJ said.

"A-L-G-A-F-A-R-I."

For reasons I couldn't fathom, I felt like a shit for raking through Rania's life. I'd done it a thousand times before, so why was she any different?

"I'll run a few search programs," RJ said. "What's for dinner?"

"Pizza?"

"Pepperoni, and get me some chicken wings, would you?"

"Let's go out for a change."

RJ stared at me. "Hold on. Did you just seriously suggest the two of us go out for pizza? Have you turned into a girl? Do you want me to bring flowers and candles while you unload all your angst?"

"Shut up, man. No, I need to check Rania's alibi. She reckons she was at the pizza place on the high street, but there's something off about her whole story."

"That's why you're having me dig into her background?"

"Why else?"

"I just assumed you were interested in her and wanted to check for skeletons. She looks like your type."

"How? I usually go for blondes with no strings attached."

"For a good time, yeah. But those aren't the ones who stick. Think about it. Secretly, you prefer the innocent, vulnerable type so you can go full caveman."

True, maybe, but I didn't want to think about it. "What are you? A fucking agony aunt?"

"Just an observation."

"Says the man whose last date left when he got his iPad out between the main course and dessert." And worse, she'd taken my date with her.

RJ looked up from his computer for a second. "She did?"

"If you don't take a break from that computer and come out for food, I'll unplug the damn thing. You've already had to get glasses because of it."

"Unplug it if you like. I've got an auxiliary power supply."

"I'm serious."

RJ got to his feet and turned off the screen. "Fine. But if you hold my hand, I'm hiring an all-male dance troupe to perform at your next birthday."

Just to wind RJ up, when we got to the restaurant, I asked the purple-haired waitress to seat us at a quiet table and bring a bottle of rosé. RJ glared at me as he changed the order to two beers. The waitress giggled and eyed up his Porsche keys, and I predicted she'd be sitting beside him in the passenger seat at the end of the evening. At least when he ditched me like that, he always forked out for my cab fare.

And I had more important things on my mind.

It didn't take me long to spot the manager, sitting at a quiet table as she checked over the evening's bookings on her tablet. I left RJ chatting up his new friend as I headed over.

"Do you have a minute?" I asked.

She opened her mouth to say no, but I smiled, and that changed to a nod of her head. The smile worked every time. Three years of braces from the best orthodontist money could buy was paying off in adulthood. It almost made the nicknames I'd endured worth it. Metal mouth. Zipper lips. Tinsel teeth. Kids could be cruel, and the little shits at my first boarding school were the worst. I'd been happy to get expelled, but my father hadn't shared that joy. Fortunately, RJ had been by my side all the way.

"How can I help?" she asked.

I offered a hand for her to shake, careful to hold onto hers for just a second too long and end with a little squeeze. Her cheeks flushed nicely pink.

"Will Lawson. I'm a private investigator, and I'm hoping to check an alibi for a lady who dined here a couple of weeks ago."

"Is this the same woman the police were asking about?"

"Very likely."

"I'm not really supposed to give out that information without the proper paperwork."

"I don't need to take anything with me. Just watch your security video and ask a few questions. After you get off, if you like. We could do the questions over drinks."

Even as I spoke the words, I thought back to what RJ had said earlier about me having a type. From the manager's predatory grin as she checked the clock above the bar, she definitely wasn't it. No vulnerability there whatsoever, just focus and determination.

She was more of a cougar, and I'd just volunteered to be her prey.