“Don’t place so much importance on the pictures. You’re an eyewitness.”
“Not good enough,” she said in a mumble as she began to pace. She looked down at the floor and bit down on her lip.
“Forget about creating another opportunity to get a picture. Mercedes and her gang are going to be more careful.” He waited for her to argue but she kept pacing around the unmade bed. “Not every case is perfect. You need to work with what you have. It’s all in how you present your evidence.” He paused again. “You’re not listening to me anymore, are you?”
She lifted her head. “I’ll need a black camisole and short shorts,” she declared. She glanced at the bedside clock. “It’s too early to go shopping.”
“What?” Why did she need that specific outfit? A memory suddenly bloomed in his mind. “Black camisole and short shorts? That’s the waitress uniform at the club.”
“Exactly.” Julie nodded and he saw the gleam in her eyes. He recognized that look. She was becoming enthusiastic about a plan she was putting together. It was as breathtaking as it was bloodcurdling.
“You want to masquerade as a waitress? Forget it.” Only Julie would come up with a gutsy move that relied on luck rather than on calculated risks. “It won’t work. They’ll recognize you.”
“No, they won’t. They didn’t last night,” she argued as she paced faster. He could almost feel the vibrant energy crackling from her. “I had spent the night at the bar with Lloyd and they didn’t put the two aliases together.”
“That was before you started taking pictures of them,” Eric said as he wiped the dripping water off his face. “They’re keeping an eye out for you. Even if you shaved your head, they’ll remember you.”
“No, this will work,” she insisted, her hands up to stop his list of problems so he would listen. “Even in Agatha Christie stories, no one looks at the waiter. It’s how the villain can poison the victim without being noticed.”
Agatha Christie? He wasn’t sure if this was any better than coming up with a strategy from one of her Sapphire books. “It doesn’t work in real life.”
“Do you remember what your waitress looked like last night?”
“She was five foot three, long black hair, brown eyes,” he responded. “She had a tattoo of a rose on her left ankle.”
Julie made a face and dropped her hands. “Okay, you’re trained to notice everything. The average person won’t remember.”
He crossed his arms. “I’m not willing to test it out.”
She blew out an exasperated sigh and placed her hands on her hips. “Then what do you recommend?”
“I suggest we stick with the original plan. Go out of town, keep our heads down and Monday morning we go to Z-Ray Studios with our information.” It wasn’t an aggressive plan, but the low risk was the main draw.
“Oh, Eric,” she said with regret, “I want to go away with you for the weekend, but I need to finish what I started.”
“You can finish it on Monday,” he decided. “We’re going.”
Her eyes narrowed at his tone. “I’m staying.”
“No, you’re not.” Eric ran his hand through his wet hair. He knew his demands were the wrong tactic, but the rising alarm he felt was breaking through his cool facade. He had to keep Julie hidden for the next few days if he wanted to protect her.
“Go if you want.” She motioned at the majestic snow covered mountain in the distance. “You need a break before you go back to ICE. But I’m staying here. We can meet on Monday.”
He tossed his hands in the air. “Why would I leave when the whole point was to get you out of town?”
“We can have a romantic getaway—” She paused. “Oh.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. The wobble in her voice. The disappointment.
“I’m so stupid.” She slapped her palm on her forehead. “That’s why you let me tie you up.”
He reached for her. “Julie…”
She jerked away from him. “I thought it was an act of trust. That you trusted me and my decisions.”
“I do.” He trusted Julie in ways he couldn’t trust his team back in D.C. But she was still a rookie on the job.
“You let me tie you up because…” Her eyes looked shiny and she blinked rapidly. “You would have done anything to keep me from leaving the hotel.”