She conceded there was no avoiding this and walked inside with him.
Stepping into the restaurant, she felt uncomfortable. Ferdinand’s didn’t have a dress code, but no one else was slumming it in workout gear. They’d have to trade off Greening’s suit and badge. Last night she’d come in here dressed to kill, and here she was in sweats and a hoodie.
But her workout look also worked for her. She recognized a couple of faces among the staff, but they didn’t recognize her. Last night, she’d looked like a million bucks. Tonight, she looked like fifty with change. No wonder no one recognized her. That helped shift a load from her shoulders.
Greening asked the hostess for a table. As she picked up her clipboard to get his name, he casually flashed his badge. They were seated immediately, although immediately didn’t mean a good table. They ended up with a two-top in the window by the door. He took the seat facing the door—the seat she wanted. She never liked having her back to the entrance. You never knew who might creep up on you. It wasn’t something that had bothered her before the abduction.
“Come here often?” he asked, looking around before turning to the menu.
“Now and again.”
Has it been only a day since I was here last? It seemed like a lifetime ago. She wished she was as carefree as the other customers. They were happy, laughing, and joking, as if a murder hadn’t happened just a handful of miles away. But it hadn’t happened for them, had it? People recognized death only when it touched them. She bet that if she asked any of them if someone had been murdered last night, they wouldn’t know. No one really took notice. No wonder killers could operate for so long with impunity.
“You eaten?” he asked.
“No.”
“Me neither. I’m starving. Order whatever you like. This is on me.”
She didn’t like the idea of a free meal from a cop. It would come with strings. “We can split the bill.”
“It’s on me.” He smiled. “Actually, I should say it’s on the department.”
She didn’t know much about police department expenses, but she doubted they covered dinners with persons of interest. “That’s OK. I’m not that hungry.”
He frowned. “Suit yourself.”
Their server introduced himself and set down a bottle of water. He asked if they wanted anything from the bar. Both of them said no, but Greening ordered a number of small plates.
“Feel free to pick from my plates.”
She wasn’t sure if this was an interrogation or a date. The latter was unlikely, but Greening was certainly buttering her up for some reason—and it couldn’t be good.
“You said you have an update.”
“I do.” He straightened in his seat and leaned forward. “There have been a few developments.”
“Like what?”
“We’ve identified the woman from last night. Her name was Laurie Hernandez. Did you know her?”
Zo? shook her head.
“Didn’t think so. It was a long shot,” he said. “I have a more serious question. Have you spoken to the press?”
“No,” she lied. It was a white lie. The press had tried to talk to her. She hadn’t wanted to speak to them. As much as it would be gratifying to set Greening on Lara Finz, the potential backlash from an assault charge prevented her.
“Have you? It’s important, Zo?.”
“No. Why?”
He removed a copy of the Chronicle from his pocket and put it on the table. “They’ve given him a name.”
She looked the story over, and Lara Finz’s name was on the byline. Bitch, she thought.
She scanned the rest of the article and stopped when she reached her killer’s public identity. He didn’t have a face, but he had a name—the Tally Man. She exhaled.
“Yeah, not exactly original, but potentially accurate.”
“How did this happen?”
“You were caught on the TV news last night, flashing us your scar.”
Reflexively, her hand went to the spot on her hip. She colored at the obvious tell.
“But you guys came up with the theory about him numbering his victims.”
Greening sighed. “The feeling is that someone within the department leaked that detail. It’s not unheard of for someone to sell information to the media. Rest assured, when the person is found there’ll be some serious butt kicking.”
Rest assured? What a joke, she thought. What else has Greening’s department leaked? Was that the reason Lara Finz found me so easily?
“My name can’t be released to the press. He might recognize me.”
“Yes, I know. Inspector Ogawa is in contact with the Chronicle over this point. Please don’t worry.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” She slammed her hand down on the table. Heads turned their way. She lowered her voice. “He doesn’t have unfinished business with you.”
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry.”
“Tell me one thing. Is it the same guy?”