In Hope's Shadow. Janice Johnson Kay
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his options were limited.
So he’d crossed his fingers and said, “What about the café?” and she’d agreed, but sounded distracted enough he hadn’t been sure she’d thought it through.
Now he agreed, tongue in cheek, “There’s that saying about getting back in the saddle right away.”
Eve wriggled a little and wrinkled her nose at him. “Now that you mention it, the seats do feel a little like a saddle, and they’re not padded much better, either.”
“The place could do with some updating,” he conceded. “Ah...maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Don’t be silly,” she retorted. “The food’s good, it’s quiet enough to talk and nine times out of ten you can snag the back booth.”
Ben gave a crooked smile. “You noticed, huh?”
“You and Seth,” she said, and bent to study the menu.
Did she have to remind him she’d dated his partner? Then he had an unwelcome thought. Was she a cop groupie?
“You gone out with a cop before?” he asked casually.
“Hmm?” She glanced up. “Oh. No.” An impish grin flashed. “And I was so annoyed at Seth by the time he asked, I couldn’t figure out why I’d agreed.”
Ben relaxed and laid one arm along the padded back. “He said something about that. Admitted he might have been wrong and you were right about that kid, too.”
“Did he?” Humor gave her a tiny dimple in one cheek even when she was suppressing a smile, like now. “Funny thing, he never told me that.”
Ben couldn’t help grinning. “What man likes to admit he’s wrong?”
Her gaze became more searching. “You don’t, either?”
“Not my favorite thing to do.” For some reason, he flashed to his divorce. Was that why he couldn’t let go? Because admitting he’d been wrong really meant admitting he and Nicole shouldn’t have gotten married in the first place, and he wasn’t willing to do that?
He flicked the thought away. “Here comes our waitress. You made up your mind?”
Eve closed the menu. “I’m going to try again with the same meal.”
“Since you didn’t get to eat it last time,” he said slowly.
“Since I was an idiot.” She smiled at the middle-aged waitress and gave her order. Ben did the same.
When they were alone again, he asked about her day. It sounded a lot like his, the way she described it. Apparently reports figured as largely in her job as they did in his. That and driving from one end of the county to the other, too often finding the person he’d gone to talk to had forgotten he was coming or decided to dodge him. He mentioned a couple of obscure back roads, and she knew them both, laughingly telling him one was a speed trap and she was too smart for it.
“Yeah, that dip makes a good place to tuck a patrol car out of sight, plus teenagers love to build up speed and try for some air there.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Tell me you don’t speed.”
“I don’t speed,” she said obediently. Rolled her eyes and added, “Anymore.”
“There’ve been a couple of ugly accidents on that same road in just the past year or so.”
“I know. And really I don’t. I was as stupid as any other teenager, but I’ve outgrown that kind of defiance.”
Their food came and they kept talking, sharing more tidbits from their jobs, likes and dislikes, a book he’d recently read, foods they detested, the concept of diving in the cold waters around the San Juan Islands, something he’d done a few weeks back with friends.
“In the middle of the winter?”
Laughing at her horror, he said, “You don’t get cold when you’re wearing a wet suit. The only kinda miserable moment is when you have to peel it off on deck.”
“Ugh,” was her conclusion. “Now, snorkeling in the Caribbean I could go for.”
He’d done that, too—on his honeymoon. He figured it was just as well not to say so.
And, wouldn’t you know, that was when his phone buzzed and he glanced to see he had a text from Nicole asking him to call when he had a minute. That sounded tentative for her, which had him on edge. Was something wrong? She’d have said if it was an emergency, he told himself, and put his phone away without comment. Eve’s gaze had followed it, though, and her expression was enigmatic.
For something to say, he asked her whether anything had come of the grumpy neighbor’s complaints about the Kekoa boy.
“Unfortunately, there’s been another incident,” Eve said, expression perturbed. “The foster dad called today. Mr. Rowe’s car was keyed. Apparently he usually parks in the garage, but he’d intended to go out later, so... Whoever did it was smart enough to stop with one side—the side Mr. Rowe couldn’t see from his front window.”
“Calculated.”
“What crossed my mind was malice aforethought.”
“The definition of first degree.”
She shivered. “It happened about when the boys got home after school. Gavin drove—he has his own car—and Joel took the school bus.”
“Not a real friendly relationship there,” Ben mused.
“No. Not outwardly hostile, either, but—” She chose not to finish.
“The neighbor call the police?”
“Yes.” Eve looked even unhappier. “Officer Pruitt again. He confronted Joel instead of making any effort to knock on doors and find out whether anybody else had seen it happen.”
As far as Ben knew, Ed Pruitt was a competent police officer. Either he wasn’t ambitious, had scored poorly on the tests that led to advancement or liked being first responder. Whatever the reason, he had stayed in uniform through his career and had just passed his twenty-fifth year on the job.
“You sure he didn’t?” Ben asked. “Or is that what the boy told you?”
“Well...” She frowned at him. “You’re right. Pruitt is leaning hard on Joel for no other reason than because Mr. Rowe doesn’t like him, though.”
“Cops do get tunnel vision sometimes, just like anyone else,” Ben said mildly.
“Are you implying I have, too?”
He didn’t think she’d appreciate being told she looked cute when she bristled.
“Nope. Just saying we’re not perfect, hard as we try.” One side of his mouth quirked up. “Well, I might have achieved that exalted state, but...”
Eve’s laugh erased her wariness. “Right. A perfect detective would have arrested the guys who hit that jewelry store, wouldn’t he have?”
His smile turned into a grimace. “That’s a low blow.”
She laughed again. He liked the sound, a merry ripple that was almost a giggle.
He picked up the dessert menu, tucked behind the catsup and salt and pepper shakers. “Pie?” he asked, even though he also felt an itch to call Nic and find out what was up. He could make an excuse and go to the john....
“I couldn’t.” Eve looked down at her empty plate ruefully. “I missed lunch, so I was starved, but I still don’t know how I stuffed all that in.”
He’d kind of wondered that himself, but he’d noticed that Eve rarely completely relaxed. She fidgeted, she tapped her foot, she paid attention to everything going on around her. Energy hummed through her. He’d be willing to bet she burned more calories than average for her size and weight.