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“Why you’re in danger?”
“Why you’ve been hanging around all day. You think I can lead you to my brother, but I can’t.”
“You’ve been phoning him.” Statement, not question.
“How do you know?”
He tapped his temple. “Psychic.”
More like he’d checked her phone when she’d been talking with Bea in the office closet.
“You’re right. I can’t get ahold of him.” If only she could make a voice call…but even if her brother felt the cell-phone vibrations, he’d never answer because he wouldn’t be able to understand her speech.
A sign pointed her down a branching passageway. She steered toward the bright space at the end. “I need a cup of coffee.”
“Me too.”
At this time of the afternoon, few hospital staff occupied the tables in the cheerful cafeteria. Two orderlies already inched down the cafeteria line. Cath set a tray on the rail and stared at the desserts and plated sandwiches.
“Take what you want.” Mitch clinked the edge of his tray against hers.
Why? “This is not a date.”
“You can bet I’d choose a more agreeable companion.”
She lifted her eyebrows. “And one who, shall we say, is more willing?”
His eyes showered her with sparks. Her heart stumbled, serving her right for baiting him. He looked away and she dropped her gaze to the cellophane-wrapped egg-salad sandwich in her hand. Where had this come from?
“Go ahead. Live a little.”
“Nah.” She slid the plate back onto the shelf. Better not run up expenses. Who knew how long she’d have to keep Crescent City Haunts closed? “Coffee’s enough for now.”
The other customers finally reached the cash register, and Cath could fill a cup and carry her tray to a table. Mitch slid a laden tray across from her and set the egg-salad plate on her side.
She stared at the lovely sandwich. “This is for me?”
“It’s in front of you.”
“Thank you.” She smiled and gave him a two-fingered salute. Don’t go overboard. Next thing you know, he’ll be selling you a bridge in Brooklyn.
She chewed a bite. Pure bliss. “This is wonderful.”
He rolled his cuffs to his elbow, exposing muscled forearms dusted with brown hair. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“I’ve got a long way to go to get to happy, but this helps.” She doctored her coffee and took a sip, climbing another step toward heaven. The delicious heat triggered immediate exhaustion. Her hands shook, and she set the cup down, flashing a look to see if Mitch noticed her nerves. He didn’t. She leaned back in her chair and watched him unwrap his tuna fish with neat, precise movements.
He ate a few bites, his gaze on her. “I still think you should have let me drive the bus here.”
Of course he did. He formed an opinion, right or wrong, and never wavered.
“We’re here.” She spread her arms. “A traffic cop could have stopped us, found out you’re not licensed to drive a bus, and I would have gotten in trouble with my insurance company.”
“I’m a safe driver. The cops wouldn’t have had any reason to stop us.”
The police had sure come through when she’d needed them. “They got to the cemetery fast enough.”
She inhaled the rich aroma of her coffee. This brew didn’t have chicory like the kind the French Market stands served, but it smelled plenty strong enough. “I don’t understand why these men are after me.”