“Spencer, this is Nico,” Chase said, when the hug ended. “Nico, Spencer.”
Nico looked Spencer up and down, then cuffed Chase on the arm. “Quite a catch, buddy.”
“Oh, we’re just friends,” Chase said quickly, glancing at Spencer. She smiled.
Nico winked like he didn’t believe them, then made a sweeping gesture around the room. A few couples were at the tables. An old man was doing a crossword in the corner. “Sit anywhere you like.”
Spencer settled on one of the chairs and looked around. Metal pots hung from the ceiling. Zillions of black-and-white photographs of serious-looking women holding babies or cooking in kitchens were on the walls. There were also old ads in Italian and posters for operas she’d never heard of. It reminded her of Paris or Rome.
She leaned across the table to Chase. “And you know this place how?”
Chase smiled. “I found this when I was working on one of the cases for the blog. Nico provided me with a lot of insider information—plus he gets me tickets to the opera.”
Spencer crossed her arms. “I thought opera was only for old ladies.”
“Absolutely not.” Chase apprised her. “I can’t believe you’ve never been. I’ll take you sometime.”
Spencer smiled. “I’d like that.” Not long ago, whenever she conceived of the future, she imagined A finally catching up with and punishing them. It was like a huge bucket of dirty water that had taken up way too much space in her brain had finally emptied.
“What are you thinking about?” Chase asked.
Spencer took a deep breath. “The way things have suddenly changed,” she admitted. “I mean, there’s this enormous weight off my shoulders.”
“I can imagine,” Chase said.
“I mean, I know I shouldn’t get too comfortable. They could still be watching me.” With that, Spencer cast a glance out the stained-glass windows. Pigeons shuffled on the street. A Parking Authority worker strolled past, ticket meter in hand.
“Do you know what’s happening with the investigation?” Chase whispered.
“Well, I handed over the Acura keychain,” Spencer said. “It’s up to them to figure out the rest.” Suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck rose. She looked up just as a back door creaked open, half expecting Ali to emerge. It was just an old woman, though, scuttling past them to wipe down a table.
Spencer looked at Chase. “I don’t think we should talk about Ali in public.”
Chase nodded. “Got it.”
Nico appeared again and delivered their drinks in delicate little china cups. “Grazie,” Spencer said, trying to get in the spirit of things, and lifted hers from its saucer. It was the most smooth, buttery, heavenly tasting coffee she’d ever had. “Wow,” she said, when she’d swallowed.
“Told you it was good.” Chase pulled a napkin from the silver holder on the middle of the table and handed it to her. They were quiet for a while. Nico whistled as he cleaned the insides of the tiny espresso cups behind the counter. “I invited Nico to Sunday dinner once,” Chase admitted in a low voice, watching him, too. “My parents looked at me like I was out of my mind. They were sure there was going to be a police raid on the house.”
“My mom would’ve probably done the same thing,” Spencer said. She placed her chin in her hand. “Does your family have big Sunday dinners?”
Chase settled back in his chair. “I have a huge extended family, so it can get pretty insane. I’d miss it if we didn’t do it anymore, though.”
He described the comfort food his mom made, the same old jokes his grandfather always told, and the plays his younger cousins put on during dessert. “It sounds fun,” Spencer said. “I’ve always wanted a family who actually likes one another.”
Chase smiled. “You can come sometime if you want.”
There was a flutter in Spencer’s chest. “First you invite me to the opera, then to dinner . . . what next?”
“I’d say prom . . . but been there, done that,” Chase blurted. “Kind of.”
Spencer giggled. She liked his flirtatious side. And suddenly, when she looked at him again, he had a twitchy, excited look on his face, almost like he might kiss her. Spencer thought about it for a moment, then inched forward.
Beep.
Her cell phone chimed loudly through the room. “Ugh,” Spencer said, peeking inside her bag.
The texter’s number was a jumble of letters and numbers. Spencer’s stomach sank. Quickly, she opened the text.
Do you really want another innocent life on your hands, Spence? Then give up your boy toy. —A
The blood drained from her face. “Spencer?” Chase touched her arm. “What is it?”
Spencer glanced around the little coffee shop. Nico turned on the espresso grinder. One of the couples fed each other bites of cannoli. All at once, the air cleared. She knew exactly what to do.
“It’s nothing,” she said. She straightened up, gripped her phone, and typed in Agent Fuji’s number. Just got another text, she wrote, forwarding the message. Go to it.
15