“What did he look like?” Eve asked.
“Short with round glasses,” he said. “The one who was giving you a hard time before your boyfriend came in and kissed you.”
Jeremy Lyons. Eve started to ask more, but Callie jumped in. “What kiss?”
“One of the cops from the magazine article,” the barista told her. “Not the cover guy. But one of the guys inside the article.”
Eve felt her cheek grow very warm when Callie started to grin. “Never mind that,” Eve said briskly. “So after we left, the reporter talked to the short guy with glasses?”
“He did. The short guy was all too happy to dish. He told the reporter he didn’t believe you and the cop were really a couple and he could prove it. He said he’d get your friends to tell the truth. Even said he’d get your phone number.” He directed the latter statement to Callie. “The reporter gave him his card and took off.”
“Took off where?” Eve asked.
“He got in his car and started driving the same way you all went.”
Eve frowned at him. “You saw which way I went when I left here?”
“Sweetheart, when you two left, everybody watched which way you went.”
Eve covered her burning face with her hands. “Oh my God. How embarrassing.”
“How fascinating,” Callie said with relish. “What happened next?”
“She and the Hat guy left, his arm around her, real tight,” the barista said, conspiratorially. “And that yummy Detective Phelps was in the passenger seat. That made my day.” He gave Eve a mock glare. “You never said you knew him.”
Eve shrugged, still mortified. “Sorry, but I don’t think you’re Jack Phelps’s type.”
“I figured as much. What a waste. Look, I gotta get back behind the counter. I saw how upset you were and I wanted to let you know what I saw.”
“Thank you,” Eve said, sincerely. “Truly.”
When the barista was gone, Callie said nothing, just sipped her coffee and waited.
Eve rolled her eyes. “I wanted to throw Jeremy Lyons off the trail. He was sure I was cooperating with the cops or the papers or both. I wanted to give him the wrong idea.”
“So it was a ruse,” Callie said, obviously enjoying the moment. “Just one kiss.”
Eve dropped her eyes to her fidgeting hands and Callie crowed in delight.
“More than one?”
Eve’s lips still tingled from it. As did every other square inch of her body. “Oh, yeah.”
Callie sighed. “And you’re going to find a reason it can’t work. It’ll be a stupid one and you’ll cling to it like a drowning man clings to one of those… circle… things.”
Eve had to smile. “You mean a life preserver?”
“Shut up,” Callie said, but without heat. “Tell me you’ll give him a chance.”
“Now you sound like David.”
“Who appears to be as smart as he is sexy. So what is your reason, Eve? Why have you convinced yourself this thing with Webster won’t work? Don’t you trust him?”
Eve shrugged uneasily. “That’s the problem. I trusted him the first time I saw him.”
“How is this a problem?” Callie asked, exasperated.
“Because… I don’t just trust people. Especially men. Who look like him.”
“Which is how? Impossibly handsome?”
“No. Trustworthy.” Eve winced. “I know that sounds stupid.”
Callie’s expression softened. “Maybe you trust him because he’s the one.”
“I’d like to believe that.” She thought about what she’d really wanted to do when he’d kissed her in that office and her face heated. “It’s not wise.”
“Since when have you ever been wise? Which is what you said, not two days ago.”
“That was about my roof, not…” Not about gobbling Noah Webster in great big bites. She was still overheated, thinking about the kiss that had consumed every breath of air in the room. And she’d agreed to have dinner with him. What was I thinking? That she wanted more. A whole lot more. “Never mind.”
“I’m getting hot just watching you get hot,” Callie said. “So what was it like?”
Eve was spared a reply by the ringing of her cell phone. “Noah,” she answered, ignoring Callie’s delighted grin. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he said. “I got your text. And I needed to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine. Noah, that Buckland person contacted Callie, too.”
“How did he get her to talk to him? Did he threaten her, too?”
“No. He was trying to get information from her. He told her you were married, that your wife’s name was Susan, that I was the other woman. He wanted Callie to confirm we weren’t together, that I was lying yesterday when I… when we… you know.”
“Yes, I know. And you were right.” His voice was tight. “This is personal. He had to dig back a lot of years to find out about Susan. Sonofabitch.”
“We’ll figure it out,” she said quietly.
He sighed. “I know. I also wanted to tell you that I don’t think you need to worry about Donner. He told me to tell you he was sorry.” She heard a car door slam on his side of the line. “Did you ask Sal for time off for dinner tonight?”
“Not yet.” Eve glanced up at Callie, who was still watching with avid curiosity. “But I think I can find someone to cover for me for a while.”
“You need me to cover for you tonight?” Callie asked when she’d hung up.
“He wants me to go to dinner with him.”
“Then I’ll cover for your shift. I need the money and you need the romance. Of course, if you’re really not interested, I’d be more than happy to stand in.”
“That’s all right,” Eve said dryly. “Although your sacrifice touches my heart.” Touches. “Hey, did that guy posing as a reporter give you his card?”
“Yes, he did. I have it here.” She opened her purse.
“Don’t touch it. I pitched the card he gave me. Maybe they can get prints off yours.”
Callie’s brows rose. “Why not just give it to Noah Webster?”
“Because he’s a little busy right now.” Eve dug in her backpack and came up with an empty envelope. “Put on your glove, then drop the card in here.”
Callie obeyed, then sat back, amused incredulity on her face. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little,” Eve admitted. “It’s been awhile since I did anything clandestine. In the real world, anyway.” She gathered her things. “It always was kind of a rush. Gotta go.”
Wednesday, February 24, 12:00 p.m.
“So Jeremy Lyons is missing?” Abbott asked.
Noah slumped into one of the chairs at Abbott’s table. “We stopped by his house. His wife was there. He didn’t come home last night and she hadn’t seen him since yesterday morning. He didn’t pick their daughter up from day care and he hasn’t called, texted, emailed, nothing, which she said was unusual.”
“She let us search,” Jack added, “but we found nothing suspicious.”
“What about Donner?”
“I’d put my money on Lyons before Donner,” Jack said. “Donner didn’t appear to be in good enough physical shape to do these murders.”
“And Lyons is AWOL,” Abbott mused. “Pull Lyons’s financials. See if he’s gotten any big payoffs lately.”
“You’re thinking he sold the list?” Jack asked, then shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“Follow the money,” Abbott said. “I requested Girard’s financials yesterday. We’ll look for links to Lyons, anything to explain why Axel was picked as a fall guy.”
There was a light knock on Abbott’s door and Faye stuck her head in. “I’ve got the police report on the Millhouse woman for you, Noah.”
“Thanks, Faye.” Noah flipped through the report and frowned. “I read this one, Jack, that first night after we found Martha. We read so many, I didn’t remember Amy Millhouse by name, but I remember reading this suicide note. ‘I’m sorry. God forgive me for the pain I’ve caused my family and my church.’ ”