"This isn't so bad, is it?" Nathan asked as they bobbed about the middle of the pool, his hands tight on her waist as he kept them afloat.

"Actually, its wonderful," she admitted, feeling like a new person now that she was submerged in the beautifully cold water.

Nathan gave her a sympathetic smile. "You don't like all this dry desert heat?"

"No. I don't," she responded plainly.

"Well, if you're here long enough, you'll get used to it," he assured, giving his legs a few kicks and setting them to spinning around in the water, which forced her to tighten her arms around his neck...which just happened to force her to press her breasts a bit tighter against his chest.

God forbid. "So, are you ready to answer some questions or did you really just want to get me naked?"

"I really just wanted to get you naked," he confessed, flashing his perfect teeth. "You're really hot for a cop. And I totally pegged you for a thong girl."

"And I totally pegged you for a speedo kinda guy," she told him as he easily shifted her in the water so that she was behind him, arms still clasped around his neck.

She appreciated his attempt at trying to create a bit of sexual chemistry...and also the fact that he'd put on a swim suit...but, his efforts were in vain. Despite the flirtatious, hands on, up close and personal contact they'd been having for the past half hour, despite the male model good looks and lean, muscled form, she was about as interested in him as she would have been a younger brother, had she one.

And that was setting aside the fact that she was a law officer and he just happened to be a suspect in a murder investigation, who was obviously hoping he could use his masculine guile to sway her over to his side of things.

"So, I guess the fun's over?" he sighed as he moved them forward across the pool.

"I do have a job to do," she reminded. And since it was his fiancé who'd been stabbed to death, he should probably want her to do that job.

Jetting them along, they quickly reached the shallower end, which allowed Nathan to put his feet on the floor of the pool. Once he was upright, she loosened her grip on him, only it was a few seconds too soon and as her feet failed to find anything beneath them, and the water surged up around her, she pushed a gasp past her lips. But, almost as quickly as the gasp left her, Nathan spun around and scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against him.

"I told you I'd keep you safe," he said as turned and continued onward, his eyes flashing with something blatantly male.

Reaching the built-in steps, he sat her down and then took her by the hand, leading her out of the pool and across the patio, trailing water behind them. Cole was sitting beneath the shade of an umbrella at a nearby table, his legs stretched out and a bottle of water in his hand, watching them with a pair of sharp eyes as they came toward him.

"Mr. Rutherford---"

"Its Nate," he reminded as he pulled out a chair for her.

"Nate," she amended, picking up one of the towels on the table and wrapping it around herself before having a seat, noting that the heat was already starting to push in on her, despite her chilled skin. "Are you sure you don't want your legal team here with you?"

"My family's lawyers would refuse to let me say a word to you, Special Detective, so no," he declined for the second time. "Not answering questions is probably why the first cop decided that I'm the guilty party."

Well, that might have been one of the reasons, but there were others...

"Well, tell me what you remember about the night you found Ms. Whitmore. And the more details you can provide, the more it will help me sort this out."

"There's not much to tell," Nate shrugged, plopping down into his own chair and reaching for the bottle of beer sitting there. "Hallie and I were going to meet up so we could go to the Razor--"

"The Razor? What's that?" she questioned as she picked up her messenger bag from beside her chair and pulled out her field notebook and pen, preparing to jot down Nate's words.

"A club downtown. Hallie was supposed to meet me here at seven. She called just after six to tell me she was on her way, but she never showed. So, I waited for a while longer and then I left about eight."

Hallie Whitmore's time of death had been between six and seven o'clock, which put Mr. Nathan Rutherford on the property during that hour window. "You left without her? Why?" she wondered, beginning her notes.

Nate gave another off-handed shrug. "I was tired of waiting."

"You weren't worried that something might be wrong? I mean, she didn't show up after telling you she was on her way?"

Taking a sip from his bottle, Nate rolled his eyes. "No. Hallie did that sometimes. Especially when she didn't think I was paying enough attention to her."

"She did what sometimes?" was her next query.

"Tried to make me worry about her. She'd turn her phone off and disappear for a few hours, thinking I'd be all distraught when I couldn't find her. It was just one of her games," he explained, sounding bored.

"While you were waiting for Hallie, were you alone here? Can anyone vouch that you never left the property?"

Nate shook his head. "I was back in the guest house from the time I got home from the office at five thirty until I left for the party. My parents were both out of town that weekend, so I had the place all to myself."

"Eight o'clock is kind of early to be going to a club, isn't it? Is the Razor even open that early?" Cole spoke for the first time, eliciting not even a glance from Nate.

"It was a friend's birthday party. She rented out the club from eight until ten thirty so we wouldn't have to deal with the general population," came the statement, which seemed to make Cole's teeth grind.

"She? Can I have her name?" Tessa asked, still taking notes.

"Sure. Etty Montrose," Nate responded easily and Tessa was careful to show no outward reaction.

"And she can corroborate that you actually attended her party?"

"She can. I spoke to her when I got there around eight thirty and again when I left just before ten thirty."

Glancing up from her notebook, she set her gaze on Nate's handsome face. "Did you tell Etty Montrose why Hallie wasn't at the party? If she was expecting Ms. Whitmore to be there, did she think there was cause for concern that she wasn't? Or did anyone else? Maybe any of Hallie's friends?"

Nate, back to looking bored, took another sip. "I didn't mention Hallie and Etty didn't ask about her. Nobody did. Like I said, Hallie had pulled her disappearing act before, so it was old hat for her to go MIA."

"Do you know if anyone was with Hallie earlier in the day? Is there anyone who could tell me about her movements, maybe the kind of mood she was in, whether she was worried or upset?"

The man took another swig. "I guess Etty and the other girls could help with that. Hallie, Etty, Chloe, Leva, Danni...there a clutch. Shopping trips, girls' trips, the charity circuit, they're always together. One of them can't go piss without the others knowing how strong the stream was."

If that was the truth, then Etty Montrose might certainly be aware that Hallie would be driving down Route 44 and at exactly what time. Come to that, any of her other friends might have been privy to that information, too.

"What happened when you left the party?" she continued, not wanting to go too hard on Etty Montrose and possibly tip her hand.

"I drove straight home. And that's when I saw Hallie's car on the road," Nate answered and his face went slightly paler as he showed the first sign of emotion. "She was just sitting there...by herself, in the dark...covered in blood..."

Tessa watched as the memories flashed through his mind, clouding his eyes. What he'd seen was still with him. Or perhaps...what he'd done? "And her car wasn't there when you left for the party?" she asked, knowing full well that it would have been.

"I...I came back that way, but I didn't leave that way so...I don't know if she was there or not," he replied in a dry voice, and then upended half his bottle.

"Can you tell me why you did that, Nate? Why you took one route to leave and a different one to come back home?"

"I just...did," he said in a quiet tone, his eyes focused on something only he could see. "I don't know why. I just...did. And I keep thinking...that if I'd just left that way, maybe she'd still be here somehow. And maybe my life wouldn't have gone straight to shit."

Hearing his words, she couldn't help but wonder which occurrence distressed him more.  The bloody death of his fiancé or the fleeting inconvenience that death was causing in his own life.

"And when you found Hallie, did you call the police right away?" she continued.

"Yeah. It was exactly three minutes past eleven..."

If his timeline held up, that meant Nathan Rutherford's whereabouts and his movements were unaccounted for from the time he left his office until he showed up at the Razor. Knowing the M.E. placed Hallie's death between six and seven that evening, there was more than ample opportunity for him to kill her, drive the couple of miles back home to clean up, possibly drive out into the desert to ditch the evidence, and then show up at the birthday party at eight thirty, acting completely unfazed.

If Nathan Rutherford was the murderer...

"Would you mind giving me the full names of Hallie's clutch of friends? And maybe a way to get hold of them? Their cell numbers, if you have them? I'd like to ask them some questions. And I'd like your number, too, in case I need to speak with you again."

Blinking his thoughts away, Nate reached for his phone, taking a second to power it on, before rattling off the list of names and cell numbers, including his own. "I've been keeping my phone turned off because...everyone stopped calling. But, I guess I can keep it on for you."

"I'd very much appreciate that, Mr. Rutherford...Nate," she said to him, making sure her expression conveyed a measure of sympathy. "I have just a couple more questions for you, though. And I have to ask them just to be thorough, so that no one will cast doubt onto my investigation."

Nate finished his bottle of beer and gave a listless sort of shrug. "Hit me."

"Had you and Hallie been getting along lately? Had you been arguing or fighting with each other?"

Nate's brows drew together, but his mouth lifted into a smile. "Would I admit to fighting with Hallie at this point?"

It was her turn to smile. "I think you would because if you withheld that information and any of her friends contradicted you, that would make your words unreliable. And I won't help someone that I can't trust."

He contemplated her statement for a space. "We hadn't been fighting any more than usual, no. In fact, we hadn't been seeing each other as much as usual."

"Oh? Why was that?"

"Again, she thought I wasn't paying enough attention to her, so she was keeping her own time. Probably hoping that I'd have a fit because I didn't know where she was or what she was doing."

"But, did you know where she was or what she was doing?" she tossed out, watching him closely.

"No," was his short response.

"Did you care where she was or what she was doing?"

Nate pulled in a breath and let it slowly back out. "No. Hallie is...was...a grown woman. It wasn't up to me to keep tabs on her."

"So, you're telling me you had absolutely no reason to want to hurt Hallie?"

"I wouldn't hurt her, whether I thought I had a reason or not," he stated somberly and the picture of his hands gripping Etty Montrose's arms while he screamed in her face flashed through her mind.

It was a picture that belied Nathan Rutherford's words.

As he spoke, Tessa made a few last notes and then closed her notebook, laying her pen atop it. She would be very interested to know where Mr. Nathan Rutherford was and what...or who...he was doing while his fiancé was keeping her own time. Of course, she was also interested in what Hallie Whitmore had been doing and who she'd been doing it with, if anybody.

Extra curricular activities with someone who was not Nathan Rutherford could expand the potential pool of suspects, as well as solidify a motive. A jealous fiancé, or a jealous lover, come to that...enraged by the treachery...suddenly deciding to take revenge on the woman who'd betrayed him...  That scenario had led to more than one murder down through the ages.

"Well, I think I've taken up enough of your time for today," she stated, pushing her chair back and standing, prompting Cole to rise along with her. "Thank you for speaking with me."

"Thank you for going for a swim with me, Special Detective," Nathan returned in a smooth tone. "It was fun."

Tessa went for her clothes lying on the table and quickly dressed, very aware of two sets of eyes on her, which hastened her along. "You'll be available if I need to speak with you?"

"Just give me a call anytime, Special Detective. I'll be more than happy to give you anything you need."

Placing her messenger bag across herself and putting her field notebook back inside, she smiled at the young man, trying to brush off the ick. "Have a nice afternoon, Nate."

Putting her badge and weapon in place and spinning on her heel, she pointed herself toward the jeep as Cole fell into step beside her, laying his hand on the small of her back. Neither of them spoke until they were belted into their seats.

"That little short-prick makes my ass twitch," Cole gritted out as he started the engine.  

"Mine, too," she breathed, squeezing her eyes closed for a brief instant.

Cole turned to her as he shifted into drive, his rugged features and sharp eyes softening just a fraction. "I'm impressed, by the way."

"Impressed?" she repeated as she settled in.

"Yeah. The way you put questions to him.  You've got one helluva bedside manner."

Tessa could only shrug. "I've had a fair bit of practice."

Cole studied her for a few heartbeats, his eyes practically boring into hers. "For the record, you know how to swim, don't you?"

"Like a fish," she replied.

Cole paused for several long seconds.  "Or maybe...like a shark?" he suggested as he turned his attention away from her and out through the windshield, stepping on the gas and speeding them away from the Rutherford residence.

Tessa withheld comment, merely closing her eyes and allowing herself to enjoy the feel of the wind whipping past.