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Hayes chewed, then swallowed. “Forensic psychology. I went to work at Quantico after my doctorate. Was only there three years before Adam asked me to interview. I was stunned. Who hasn’t heard of Raiker Forensics?

I enjoyed what I was doing, but his offer included more of the same, plus training me as an investigator. I liked that idea more, so I accepted.”

A shroud of caution dropped over her. Raiker had risen through the FBI’s ranks as a behavioral analyst, and from what she’d read, he was still considered one of the most brilliant experts in the country.

While she was grateful his team—which included Hayes—had shown up when they did in the cellar that night, the times she’d spoken to Raiker were never entirely comfortable.

He was skilled at seeing through deception, and there was something unsettling about having his laser-blue gaze focused on her.

Hayes was more subtle, but it’d be unwise to think of him as harmless.

He’d had no trouble connecting the dots just from hearing one side of her phone conversation this afternoon.

Reese’s wariness was ironic, given her occupation. But her guard had been learned at an early age, as much a part of her now as her hair and eye color.

He got up and went back to the kitchen. Returned with a second heaping plate.

“Pollack has priors. Petty theft, some smash-and-grabs, drugs. He served a few days in jail each time, but got probation or deferred sentences in court. Have a feeling they won’t be as forgiving on the assault charge.

The address on his driver’s license is his mom’s place.

Since the police haven’t been successful finding him, he’s probably been lying low elsewhere. ”

“So, no connection to Thorne?”

“Nothing that’s turned up yet. I still have some feelers out.

They didn’t grow up near each other or go to the same schools.

But they could have met at court-ordered rehab or some event they both attended.

Thorne has a sealed juvie record, and a couple of drug-related dings.

He’s also been in and out of psych units most of his adult life.

No record of that for Pollack. I’ll keep digging. ”

She should be relieved at the news. But the incident this afternoon nagged at her.

Until they knew what their attempted tail had been after, it was hard to let it go.

If Hayes was right, and they hadn’t been followed from the apartment, how did Pollack happen to be near the restaurant in the first place?

Thorne wouldn’t know where they were going.

She’d set up the appointment a week ago.

Rivers had known in advance. Maybe Pollack had only gone past the restaurant looking for them because he’d been monitoring her car in the lot and knew they’d left the law firm’s building.

Perhaps it was the trustee and not Thorne who’d sent Pollack to trail them.

Julia’s accident had also occurred after leaving the attorney’s office.

Because even she recognized the paranoia that was beginning to color her every thought, Reese pushed it away and concentrated on her plate.

Hayes had found Julia’s smart assistant, and elevator music drifted from it, subtle and soothing.

When he commented on the contents of the overflowing bookcase, she admitted that most of the books were hers.

The discussion turned to their favorite authors, before touching on vacation spots, art, and music.

It occurred to her that she hadn’t had a conversation this long with anyone besides her aunt since before her assault. The realization brought a pang that she knew she’d carry forever.

The quote about time healing all wounds wasn’t entirely accurate. Grief carved an inner chasm like a wayward river. Life didn’t so much fill it as settle on its banks, an ongoing testament to the eternal void.

“Have you always lived in San Diego?”

“I grew up in Del Mar, where my mom and Julia were raised. My aunt has lived in the city since I was little. How about you? Was Georgia your home?” It wasn’t just an attempt to shift the subject from the personal.

She was curious about her houseguest. And already a bit afraid that his stay wasn’t going to be as brief as she’d hoped.

“At times. My dad moved us around a lot.”

She’d switched her water for white wine after she’d finished eating, which Hayes had refused. Reese lifted her glass now and sipped from it. “For his work?”

The smile that touched his lips was devoid of amusement. “You could say that.”

She recognized the inner shield that had just slammed down.

It was in her job description to continue to press.

To find new ways to mine that vulnerability for more information.

But he wasn’t an interview subject, and it felt a little craven to push when she guarded her privacy like a miser hoarding gold.

She changed the subject. “Is your sister older or younger?”

“Technically, I’m eight minutes older. We’re not identical, because of the whole she’s a woman thing.”

She winced. “People are that ignorant about fraternal twins?”

“You’d be surprised how often it comes up.

Doesn’t help that we look enough alike that people see a resemblance.

She’s a lot like my dad. We don’t have much in common.

” He pushed his chair back and scooped up his silverware with one hand and the empty plate and bottle in the other, ambling toward the kitchen.

Reese drained her glass and gathered her things, following him.

“You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

His answer was a yawn that he stifled with a fist to his mouth. “I won’t argue. I’m still jet-lagged. I’m going to check my email, then turn in early.”

She glanced at the clock on the stove. Was surprised to find it nearing ten. Reese had had dates shorter than the dinner they’d shared.

The thought had her mind scuttling away like a roach from daylight. She’d already had two meals with Hayes today, something she’d never done with a date. Mornings after were strained, awkward affairs she scrupulously steered clear of.

But there’d be no avoiding Hayes tomorrow morning. Or for the foreseeable future.

“You should go.” When he looked at her, she clarified, “To bed. This won’t take long.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

His words echoed in her head long after he’d retrieved his laptop and power cord and closed her bedroom door behind him.

She damned herself now for putting him there.

It’d seemed simpler than clearing the mess she’d affixed to the wall in Julia’s room, a haphazard maze of neon-colored notes written in her aunt’s familiar looping cursive.

But it wouldn’t be easy to banish his presence from the bedroom once he left.

The idea elbowed aside her earlier calm.

Reese took care of the mess in short order, transferring the leftover food to plastic containers, putting their silverware and her glass in the dishwasher, and scrubbing the chopping knife and cutting board.

She was wiping down the counters and stove with a single-minded intensity when he reopened the door.

He stood framed in the doorway, his shirt unbuttoned with the tails hanging free.

The sight caught her off guard. It’d been hard to miss the wide shoulders and flat stomach, but now she saw the pads of muscles bisecting his chest and torso.

He was lean rather than bulky, with a surprisingly narrow waist. Only when Hayes began rebuttoning his shirt did she realize she was staring and diverted her gaze, embarrassed.

“I’m almost done here.” She rinsed off the dishcloth she’d been using, taking more care to arrange it over the faucet than necessary. Then Reese went a few steps and snapped off the room’s light. He still hadn’t moved. “Can I get you anything?”

“One of my sources came through.” A cold snake of dread slithered down her spine, erasing her earlier discomfit.

“There may be a potential connection between Thorne and Pollack. When their lists of arrests and bookings are compared, I found a date and place that coincided. It’ll take more digging to be sure, but it’s possible the two met in a jail cell. ”