He’d always been a bad liar, but at this point she couldn’t tell. “Get off my property, William.”
He turned to the car and hesitated. “I hear you’re about to adopt a kid. That’s a surprise. Maybe we’ll meet again.”
She closed the gap between them in seconds. In a low voice so only he could hear, she said, “If you come within a mile of my kid, I will kill you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Absolutely, William.”
He held her gaze for a moment, but whatever bravado he’d mustered had vanished. He slid back into the car, and she stood in the same spot, fists clenched until the car vanished from sight.
Bowman had gone to William behind her back. Damn it!
She tipped her head back, wondering if she should trust this guy. Like his boss, the man was impossible to read and she’d already misjudged him badly five years ago.
Riley’s stomach was in knots as she pushed through the front doors of Duke’s. When she smelled the eggs cooking, her stomach should have churned with hunger, but she was too worried to eat. She paused at the waitress station when she spotted Maria.
The woman had tied her unruly dark hair up into a topknot that trickled ringlets around her round face. “My goodness, you looked loaded for bear.”
“I have a meeting.”
Maria was Duke’s wife, and as he said more than once, his saving grace. They’d married twenty years ago, and though the two never had children, they were devoted to each other. To hear Duke tell it, Maria had yanked him off the streets, sobered him up, and convinced him that gambling was no way for a good man to earn a living. They’d opened this diner, and a year later, the shelter. Maria had saved Duke’s life and he in turn had saved Riley’s along with countless other runaways. Paying it forward.
“So what marathon workout was it this morning?” Bracelets jangled on her wrists as she reached for silverware and a menu for Riley.
“I skipped my workout today.”
“That’s a first. Everything all right with you and Hanna?”
“Yeah, we’re fine.”
“When is the court date for the adoption?”
“Nine days.”
“You’ve got to be excited.”
“I’ll be glad when the papers are signed.”
Maria’s expression sobered. “I heard about that murdered kid. It was on the news again last night. Any closer to finding her killer?”
“I’m meeting someone here to talk about it.”
“Must be the man who sat down a few minutes ago. He asked if you were here. Tall, scary dude.” She leaned forward, whispering, “Looks like a fed.”
“Close. Where is he sitting?”
“Table six. He wanted a table in the back. Should have known it?”
“Something like that.”
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you soon.”
“Sure.”
Riley cut through the crowded restaurant. With each step her body tightened with tension. She was a coiled spring ready to unload. Bowman saw her, and holding his tie back, he rose.
“Bowman.”
“Good morning, Riley.”
She pulled out a chair. A coffeepot and two mugs were in the center of the round table. She waved him down and sat. “You went to see William.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I did.”
“Why?”
“I’m searching for the Shark. He fits the killer’s profile.”
“William is a coward,” she said, teeth clenched.
“So is the Shark. He works in the shadows and kills girls.”
“Why did you go behind my back?”
“I didn’t see it that way. I needed to see him for myself. And to have you along would have biased his response.”
He was right. Her presence would have changed William’s answers. “And what did you find? Do you think he’s the Shark?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Maria showed up at their table with a couple of menus and set them in front of Riley and Bowman. This wasn’t Maria’s table. She was checking up on Riley.
“Would you like to hear the specials?” Maria asked.
“No thanks, Maria. Coffee is fine.”
Maria rolled her eyes. “No starvation diet for you. I’ll get you the number six.” She smiled at Bowman. “I’m Maria Spence.”
He rose and extended his hand. “Clay Bowman. Good to meet you, Maria.”
The woman lingered, clearly curious.
Riley shifted. “I think you have folks at your station, Maria.”
Maria tossed Riley a questioning look. “Right. Thanks.”
Bowman watched the woman stop at a table and hand menus out to a couple of guys. “She’s looking out for you.”
“She is.”
“She had me in her sights the moment I asked for you. She’s very protective. I admire that.”
She wasn’t sure how to take his keen interest. “You’re a wild card and she doesn’t take kindly to those.”
He turned the handle of his coffee cup and raised it to his lips. “Sounds like you.”
“Maybe.”
Their waitress arrived. “Maria has already ordered you the number six, Riley.”
“I’ll take the same,” Bowman said, looking amused.
“Good choice,” the waitress said.
After she was gone, Riley said, “Now that we are a team, I’d like to see your case files on the Shark.”
He sipped his coffee. “You always talk about work?”
“It’s the cornerstone of our relationship.” And she needed time to screw up the courage to tell him about the DVD.
He tapped his finger against the mug. “How was your workout this morning?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s called conversation.”
Shaking her head, she reached for her coffee cup. “I skipped it. When can I see the files?”
“Why’d you skip? Is something wrong?”
The waitress returned with two hot plates of food. The number six came with a couple of scrambled eggs, pancakes, and bacon.
Bowman reached for his fork. “They don’t mess around with the portions here.”
“It’s good.” Absently, Riley poured syrup on her pancakes.
“How is Hanna?”
She hesitated, trying to decide if she wanted to attempt conversation. Then, remembering the video, she dialed it back a notch. Needing his help didn’t make it any easier for her to ask for it. “Excited about her trip to Atlanta.”
“You said triathlon, right?”
“Yes.”
He sat back. “What’s eating you?”
“This case. That there might be a killer after me.”
A cold chill seeped through her bones. Dying scared her, of course. But the idea of leaving Hanna behind terrified her. She’d been so sure about telling him about the video this morning, and then she found out he’d gone behind her back and spoken to William. Would he have told her if she’d not confronted him?
He dropped his gaze to his pancakes and cut a large piece dripping with syrup. “You have no security at your house, correct?”
Her appetite vanished as she stared at the half-eaten pancakes. “Good locks on the doors.”
“That’s not enough.”
“What do you suggest?”
“The company understands security better than anyone. Let us install an alarm system.” He sat back as if sensing he had her attention. “The cost is on us. We have a vested interest in keeping you safe.”
“I don’t know.”