An Act of Deceit: Book 2 of the Sarah Woods Mysteries by Jennifer L. Jennings

when she found out?”
         “I guess she was a little hurt, but it wasn’t that big a deal.”
         “Did you ever meet Marty?”
         “I saw him a few times. He used to come to the club. That’s how the two of them met.”
         “Okay,” I said, slipping the photo of Harding out of my purse. “Does this guy look familiar? Maybe you’ve seen him at the club, too?”
         Armand studied the picture briefly and shook his head. “He’s an odd looking guy. I would have remembered him.”
         “This is the guy who hit Marty,” I explained.
         “And you think he hit Marty on purpose for some reason?”
         “That’s what we’re trying to determine.” I stuffed the photo back in my purse. “Now you’ve got me wondering if he could be Tiffany’s stalker. Do you suppose she knows who he is?”
         Armand sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Well, why don’t you just ask Tiffany yourself?” Then his expression changed and his eyes lit up. “Oh, wow, I get it. I’m a complete idiot. You’re not friends with Tiffany at all. The reason you were at the club last night was to spy on her. You think she was involved in Marty’s death, am I right?”
         I raised both hands in defense. “I’ve never believed she was involved. I’ve just been following orders.”
         By the look on Armand’s face, I could tell the reality of the whole situation was beginning to sink in. Not only had he been duped: there would be no potential escort gig either.
         I bit my lip and shook my head. “I’m sorry about all of this.”
         He smiled weakly and downed the rest of his coffee. “Oh well, it figures. First call in two weeks and this happens.” Lips pursed, he closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. “What about your car? Was that part of your twisted agenda to try and get me to talk?”
         “No, my car really was stolen last night.”
         A cell phone chimed and Armand reached inside his jacket. “Excuse me,” he said, while looking at the tiny screen, “I have to take this.” He turned and mumbled something as I stuffed the remains of the cupcake into my mouth.
         When he’d finished with the call, Armand turned back and leaned on the table, looking at me. “If I can’t be of further service, I guess I’ll be on my way. Enjoy the desert?”
         “Yes,” I said, licking my fingers, “yummy. Thank you.”
         “Speaking of yummy,” he leaned further across the table and gently wiped a crumb from my lips, letting his finger brush my cheek, “if you ever change your mind about my offer, you know where to find me.”
         “Thanks.” I knew I was blushing, and hoped he wouldn’t notice. “By the way, what’s Tiffany’s real name?”
         He paused. Just when I thought he was going to tell me to get screwed, he said “Stephanie Miller.” He scooted his chair back, stood up, and looked down at me. “She’s a good girl, and she’d never hurt a soul. If I find out this Harding guy is her stalker, I’ll give you a call. You can deal with what’s left of him at that point.”
         “I’d appreciate that.” As he started for the door, I called out, “Hey, wait. Do you mind if I ask what your real name is?”
         He smiled and shrugged. “It’s Armand.”
         I immediately called Carter and gave him a blow-by-blow description of my meeting with Stud Muffin. I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself.
     
* * *
     
         Daniel was waiting outside the United Airlines terminal when I pulled up for the second time this evening, his briefcase in one hand, and suitcase in the other. His overcoat was wrinkled and he looked exhausted.
         “Stupid flight got delayed on the runway and I couldn’t call to let you know. Sorry you had to wait.” Daniel leaned over as he got in the car and kissed me on the cheek. His thinning hair was damp from the