Page 38

Jack meets me at the diner by my design.

Less time to talk. And talk. And talk.

At present we’re sitting at the far table near the bathrooms, which is always the best seat in the house, waiting for Marissa to get in. She’s late but this is her table when she finally arrives. In the meantime, I drink coffee, or rather spoon it, as it’s covered in whipped cream, and Jack, well, he’s Jack and he’s making up for lost time in the talking category.

“Did you know that one of the Candyman killings was based on a true Chicago crime story? And the bees were real. Plus—”

“Is that her?” I ask, as I have eyes on the frontdoorand he does not.

He twists around and then faces me again. “That’s her. She’spretty, right? Kind of Barbie-like? She’d be the first one to die in a Friday the 13 th movie andthat’sa real compliment. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have ordered that steak. I’ll look gluttonous right?”

It’s only now that I realize his hair is slicked back and his collar shirt well pressed. Pressed. He has a crush. Thankfully not on me. “I told you not to order the steak,” I chide. “I really don’t want to see you chewing on meat.”

He pales. “What? Why? Do I chew meat funny? Have you ever seen me chew meat?”

Marissa appears at our table and sets hissteakin front ofhim and I guess her to be in her mid-twenties and he’s right. She’s pretty in a doll-like way. “Hi Jack,” she greets, and pulls a bottle of steak sauce and a knife from her apron and sets them beside him. “Good to see you. I ah—”

“Hi,” Jack says, sounding as nervous as he looks, his voice quaking.

“I’m glad you came back in.” I shift slightly and her gaze rockets to me. “Oh. I’m sorry. Let me get your cake.” She rushes away.

Jack gives me an incredulous look. “You got cake. What happened to the pie?”

“I want cake,” is all I say, but what I don’t say is that if Ghost is watching, I want him to know he ruined my pie for me. At least right now.

“Should I eat the steak in front of her?” heasks, andgrabs his fork and knife and starts cutting.

“If you want to be chewing while she’s talking to you.”

“I can’t just stare at it.” He stuffs a bite in his mouth and starts chewing. And chewing.

“They’re tough as rubber here,” I say. “That’s why I said, don’t get the steak.”

Marissa returns and sets my Italian cream cake in front of me. It looks delicious and not at all healthy. I’ll try again tomorrow. I lift my badge and show it to Marissa. “FBI.”

Her gaze rockets to Jackwho’sstill chewing. “You set me up.”

He shakes his head. “No.” He grabs a napkin and spits out the steak. “No. It’s just—”

“Tell me about the waitress that went to Nashville. Or do I need to talk to Meghan. Where is she?”

She purses her lips and squats. “That was me. I just said Meghan. I was nervous. Jill Havens is her name. She had an affair with that man who was murdered. The wife found out and threatened her and she was very upset. The word is Mark sent her to Italy, not Nashville, where her sister is working, to get her away from his wife, but they divorced anyway.”

“Why is everyone so secretive?”

“The wife threatened some people here. Or ex-wife now. They feel like she will be spiteful to Jill or us for hiding her. The owner was really scared. She told us to be quiet. And I’m not feeling well tonight. I thought it was over but it’s not. I need to go to the bathroom.”

The minute she walks away, I text Tic Tac everything and get him investigating it. “Did I just win a spot on the team?” Jack asks, beaming now and shoving aside his rubber steak.

“Right now, all I can see is you chewing that steak so ask me later.”

“That’s not a no.”

My phone rings with Tic Tac’s number and I answer. “What’s up?”

“Mark went to Italy last month. He made transfers to an account in Italy as well. Lucas is tracing it. Wait.” Lucas says something to him. “He already got it. Jill Havens.” Lucas murmurs something else and then Tic Tac adds, “We have her address she shares with Melissa Havens and both work at a fashion designer.”

“Okay, then. I guess Murphy was just making the connection to Mark. Maybe for his own purposes, not mine, but at least we know.”

I sigh. “So not much of a lead, just soap opera material.”

“Afraid so,” Tic Tac replies.

And when we hang up, Jack is waiting, fork in hand. “Can I try your cake?”

“I haven’t even tried my cake, so no you cannot try my cake.”

Someone sets a pie on the table in between us, one of the other waitresses. “Someone called and asked us to give this to you. Said to tell you it’s from a secret admirer. It’s a lot of pie. We can box what you don’t eat.”

Ghost .

He’s telling me he’s not only here,heknows I didn’t order the pie. He must have cameras in here.

“This is amazing,” Jack declares. “I’ve always wanted to try the famous pie.” He grabs his steak knife. “May I?”

“Don’t use your steak knife, Jack. Use a regular knife.”

“Right. Right.” He grabs one and when he would cut the pie, he suddenly starts screaming, and I mean screaming like a little kid who’s sibling just hit him.

I have a moment of thinking he’s a fool, but he’s pointing to my left and my gaze jerks to the woman wearing an ill fitted uniform standing next to me holding a gun.

Elsa.

Instinct kicks in and I reach for the knife at the same time Jack grabs the pie and shoves it in Elsa’s face. In that moment, she stumbles and the gun cracks against the ground as it hits hard but thankfully does not go off. I’m on foot, prepared to engage, and she reaches for my weapon. Somehow that steak knife is in myhandand I drive it as hard as I can at her. We both slip on the damnpieand it lands in her arm which isn’t going to do the right kind of damage to stop her attack.

But Elsa whales in pain, and right when I would go in for another attack, Jack slams into me and the next thing I know I’m on the ground, with him on top of me. “Are you crazy?! Get up. Get off. What are you doing?”

“I was trying to tackleherbut I slipped.”

I shove him off or me or he half rolls, I don’t know, but I’m furious. By the time I’m on my feet again. Elsa is gone and people are screaming, “Back door! Back door, Agent Love!”

I race into thehallway, andopen the exit door to find Elsa lying on the ground. She’s dead and I don’t have to ask by what method. I know a broken neck when I see one. It’s Ghost. He did this.

My phone buzzes with a text message and I already know it’s from him before I pull my phone out and read: I’m number one again. You know what that means. And don’t forget the pie.