It was about ten minutes before he returned and by that time Chelsea had finished her pie and started on Eli’s. “He’s in there shaving—and smiling. He looks like he won the lottery. He told me I was with a really hot chick and asked if we were having a good time in bed.”
Chelsea’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”
“All you have to do with men like him is smirk.” He looked at her. When they were kids, they often understood each other’s mind without words.
“Let’s go,” she said.
That’s all Eli needed. He put money on the table—leaving a twenty-dollar tip—and they hurried out to the car. They were just inside when they saw the man Orin leave the diner and go to the ratty old clunker. For a moment he stood there looking around the parking lot.
Eli and Chelsea slid down in their seats so he couldn’t see them. Their heads were close together.
“This is like when we were kids, always hiding from the adults,” she said.
Eli was looking at her. “Except that I never used to have an almost overwhelming urge to kiss you.” He lifted up to look out the window. “He’s looking at the trunk as though he’s trying to decide whether or not to open it.”
Chelsea was still down on the seat. “What did you say?”
Eli slid back down. “He didn’t open it.” He looked back up. “He’s driving away. Mind if I follow him?”
Chelsea sat back up. “Of course not. What did you mean that you want to kiss me?”
Eli was looking in his mirror and backing the car out. “Just that. Primal instinct. Once I find out where he’s going, I’ll take you to back to Edilean.”
“I want to know more about the kissing.”
“No one taught you how?”
“Stop it! You know exactly what I mean.”
Eli gave a little one-sided grin. “You’re beautiful, but you know that. Truthfully, beauty in a woman has never been a serious turn-on to me. My cousins make fools of themselves over—”
“Eli!” she said.
“Right. You want to know about you and me. What’s to say? Your interest in whatever is going on with ol’ smiling Orin and generous Grace and her daughter, Abby, has sparked something in me. Made me want to kiss you.”
“Oh,” she said. They were back on the highway and Eli was easily moving from one lane to another as he followed the ratty old car. Sometimes Eli let it pass them, then he slowed and moved back behind him.
“Learn this technique from another spy?”
“No, from a cousin. My stepfather is part of the most extraordinary family. When a child is found to have a talent, they all work to cultivate that ability.”
“They worked on you and numbers?”
“Not personally, but they got me into any schools I wanted. What I was good at was absorbing what the others could do. Uncle Adam taught me to row a boat, and Uncle Kit showed me how to appear invisible. Aunt Cale gave me lessons on plotting novels. A new branch of the family has been found on Nantucket and I look forward to learning from them—but Aunt Cale said they mostly seem to know about ghosts, which I don’t believe in.”
“And someone taught you how to follow cars?”
“Ranleigh. He’s had some experience in evading the authorities and he taught me his technique. However, in retrospect, his first lesson was a bit harrowing. At the time, I didn’t understand that it was real and that we were in an actual car chase trying to escape some drug dealers.”
Chelsea’s eyes widened. “I assume you two got away.”
“We did. Look. He’s turning off the highway.” Eli slowed and allowed two other cars to get in front of him, then he followed the old car down the off-ramp.
They ended up in a neighborhood that was very run-down. Small houses with falling gutters, peeling paint, and yards full of weeds surrounding them. As Eli slowly drove down the street, some young men wearing black leather jackets and looking under the hood of a car stopped to frown at the silver-blue BMW.
“I think we’re in the wrong car,” Chelsea said and instinctively leaned away from the window. “Did you, by chance, learn self-defense moves from any of your cousins?”
“I took years of classes with them. And Todd taught me about firearms.”