It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. A rueful laugh slipped past her lips as she recalled the way that teeny-tiny, less than a bikini fit the young woman’s generously curvy, athletic body. The woman could have graced the cover of a Victoria’s Secret catalog, or even a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue. For all Spenser knew, she had.
“She has no real reason to be,” Spenser said.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, his tone sly and suggestive.
This time, Spenser couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes. The man was a dog. She also didn’t think she was in any danger from him, given the fact that she was on the wrong side of thirty. Besides, for all his bravado and suave charisma, Spenser didn’t think Joel Russell would be able to handle a real woman. There was a reason guys like him, masters of their own universe and captains of industry, enjoyed having young, impressionable girls on their arms—to mask their own insecurities. One thing Spenser had found to be true, generally speaking, was the more money and power a man had, the more delicate and fragile their ego, and the last thing they wanted was a headstrong, intelligent woman with her own thoughts and opinions challenging them.
“I think I’m a little too old for you,” Spenser said.
He laughed. “I always make exceptions.”
“Gee, that’s sweet,” she replied. “But do her parents know she’s here?”
He chuckled. “Believe it or not, she’s twenty-three.”
“I drink scotch older than her.”
He laughed. “So do I.”
“And you’re what, forty-six?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “I enjoy the company of attractive, younger women. I make no apologies for that. It’s not like I’m flying off to some mysterious private island for trysts with underage girls. All my companions are of legal age. And believe me, I always make sure to double check. You have to protect yourself these days.”
Spenser’s skin crawled. He might be a creep, but if he was telling the truth about checking IDs at the door, nothing he was doing was illegal. Kind of gross, but not illegal. And his predilection for girls who looked like they could have passed as high school students wasn’t the reason she was sitting there with him. It was irrelevant.
“Anyway, I received a text message telling me you were looking for me,” he said. “I understand you’re with law enforcement of some sort?”
“That’s right. I’m the sheriff down in Sweetwater Falls.”
“Sweetwater Falls,” he said, his tone suddenly growing slow and cautious. “Ahh yes. That must mean you’re here to talk to me about Seth Hamill.”
“And why would you assume that, Mr. Russell?”
“Please, just call me Joel,” he replied. “And I assume you’re here to talk to me about Seth because he turned up dead, and I had business dealings with him that didn’t turn out very well for me. Also, the fact that you’re here talking to me seems to confirm what I heard—that he didn’t die of natural causes. How am I doing so far, Sheriff?”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“I am. Now, I’m not the expert in law enforcement that you are, but I’m not an idiot either, so, I would assume my less than pleasant business dealings with Seth combined with his untimely demise makes me a suspect. Not to mention we’d spoken on the phone recently. Not a very pleasant conversation.”
Spenser smiled to herself. No, he clearly wasn’t an idiot.
“I’ll make this easy for you, Sheriff,” he said. “I didn’t do it.”
“No?”
He shook his head. “Why would I?”
“From my understanding, and your admission, he screwed you out of a considerable sum of money. That seems like a pretty good reason.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, he tagged me for some money. But it’s not like it was a fortune—he screwed me out of fifty grand. I spent more than that on Eva last night. I’m not exactly hurting for money, as you can see.”
“I’ve seen people kill each other for five bucks,” Spenser told him. “How much money a person has means very little in these sorts of cases.”
“I guess that’s fair. But I’m not some punk jacking people for their shoes or looking for a fix. Why on earth would you ever think I had something to do with his death?”
“We have an email chain where you told him, and I’m quoting from your email here, that you would cut him open and gut him like a lake trout.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I don’t deny that I’ve got a temper and I often say things in the heat of the moment without thinking. I’m a passionate person. I can be intemperate. But I’m not a killer, Sheriff.”
“No. Not necessarily—”
“I was pissed that he screwed me. I’m not going to deny that. But it wasn’t losing the fifty grand that pissed me off.”
“Then what was it?”
“He broke my trust. Worse, he snowed me,” Russell said. “I actually bought into his act and trusted the guy. He had a compelling business plan. I pride myself on my business acumen, so knowing I got taken for a ride and had egg all over my face pissed me off. He damaged my reputation a bit, and that’s never happened before. So, yeah, I was pissed.”
Spenser chewed on his words for a moment. “You were upset that you lost face that you threatened to gut him—”
“As I said, I’m passionate and often intemperate. When I’m caught up like that, I often say things I don’t mean.”
“So, at its core, this was just an ego thing?”
“I think that grossly oversimplifies the situation, but if you boil it down to its essence, I suppose it’s fair to say it was an ego thing. Yeah. I guess.”
“Mr. Russell, as much as I’d like to take your word for it, I can’t.”
“Of course. What do you need?”
