Whoever was on the other end of the line replied with something Wolfe didn’t like, if the stiffening of his torso was any indication. “Right. Who do the cops think killed him?”

Dana lifted her head from his chest to watch his reactions during the call.

A muscle twitched in Wolfe’s jaw. “Is that right? Absolutely nothing, huh? What about the party on Tuesday?” He listened, remaining still in that odd way he had. “Is it private with no cops?” A male voice echoed slightly over the phone. “Good. I’ll be there, and I’m bringing a sub. And Trentington? I want full details on who the dead guy was and why the hell he was murdered at one of our parties—as well as any leads.” He clicked off.

Dana played with his chest. “Did Trentington have any information?”

“No. He said the police had no idea who killed Albert Nelson, which was his real name, by the way. Besides the Clarke Wellson identity, he had several aliases. I’ll have to get to the club records to see what he put down on his application.” Wolfe kissed the top of her head in what felt like a good-bye. “The cops want to talk to anybody who was at the party.”

Well, that wasn’t good. “I used a fake name. Didn’t you?”

“Of course.”

Her body felt a little tight. “So they’re having another party on Tuesday night? Despite the murder?”

“Probably because of the murder,” Wolfe said, seeming to be miles away all of a sudden. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Trentington is working with the cops to find out who killed the man with too many names. This party will be at Trentington’s house, which is where all of the member records should be. Hopefully.”

She bit her lip. “What if there are cameras? For the police?”

“It’d be a contract breach and betrayal of the members’ privacy, so I doubt it. But, since Tuesday’s event is a costume party, we’ll find a way to hide who we are.”

Wolfe was too big to hide, but Dana didn’t say anything as she waited for him to say whatever he had to say.

“I don’t want you to be there.” Yeah, he’d said it.

“Too bad.” She wasn’t going to let Candy down. She was going to find her friend’s killer no matter how nervous she felt about going undercover, and no matter how unsettled she was after sleeping with Wolfe.

He was silent long enough that she almost fell asleep. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll make sure Malcolm is watching the house while I’m gone,” he finally said.

No cuddling into the wee hours, then. She understood his need to get away and think. “Okay.”