Omens (Cainsville 1)

"Hmm."

"I could let you do the research instead," she offered.

"No, thank you."

She laughed. "Didn't think so. So, can I have them? Please?"

Now he really did smile. When Olivia wanted something from a man--whether it was information or extra whipped cream on her mocha--her contralto voice took on a husky note. She didn't even seem to be aware she was doing it. A fascinating bit of learned behavior.

Not that it worked on him. A lawyer couldn't afford to be susceptible to female clients, so he'd developed an immunity early on. Which was useful, working with Olivia, who was undeniably attractive, in an intriguing variety of ways.

Still, there was no reason not to give her the files. He turned his computer back on.

"I'm e-mailing them now," he said. "With any luck, they'll be more useful to you then they were to me."

"Got 'em," she said after a moment. "So I'll talk to you-- Oh, wait. You said you'd arranged interviews for later this week. Who was it again? I should do some research on them, too."

He chuckled. "You can do all the research you like. I'll e-mail you the names now." He did that, too.

"Damn, you're good. Okay, then. Thanks and have a good night."

She hung up. He was just about to put the phone into his pocket when it rang again. Lores. What the hell did he want? Gabriel checked his watch, hesitated, and answered.

He'd barely gotten a hello out before Lores spilled his story, peppered with so many anxious apologies that it took Gabriel a few moments to realize what he was saying. When he did, he knew why Olivia had called for those files.

Damn.

Chapter Forty-three

It had been three when I called Gabriel. That meant he would probably knock on my apartment door by about four fifteen. Unless Lores didn't tell Gabriel he'd screwed up. But Lores seemed smart enough to realize his mistake wouldn't go undetected for long. He'd confess before Gabriel found out so he could smooth things over.

Gabriel would realize this was too serious for a phone call. He'd come in person to tell me it was all a misunderstanding and, really, I was making too big a deal out of it.

Four fifteen, then.

I checked my watch. Four twenty-five. I dug into my meat loaf as Gordon Webster--who owned the hardware store--stopped by my table to say hello. How was the meat loaf? Was I working tonight? He thought it was my night off. It was a little creepy that people were following my schedule, but Gordon was this side of forty, recently divorced, and Ida claimed he'd been coming to the diner a whole lot more since I started. That was fine. He was a nice enough guy, and he tipped well.

I said yes, I was on as soon as I finished eating. Larry had said that if I ever wanted extra hours, I could come by any dinner hour that Trudy worked. She'd been with the diner since before Larry bought it. Since before the previous owner bought it, too. She was proud of her ability--at seventy--to still take on weekend dinner rushes single-handedly, but was quite willing to share the load.

As Gordon left, he murmured an apology for almost mowing down someone coming in the door. I heard a dry response in a voice I knew well. I checked my watch. Four thirty. Right on time.

I'd sat with my back to the door. Gabriel stopped at my shoulder, as if waiting for me to sense him there and turn. I took another bite of meat loaf.

He finally stepped around. As he pulled out the other chair, Veronica called, "Gabriel Walsh."

He greeted her, staying politely on his feet.

"It's good to see you, Gabriel," she said. "I've noticed that car of yours in town more often these days. Which is not as welcome a sight when it's flying so fast I can barely see it."

I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. Gabriel exceeded the speed limit in Cainsville by remarkably little, never dropping the pedal until he was past the town limits.

"Yes, well, perhaps I should pay more attention--" he began.

"You should," she said. "We have children here, Gabriel. We didn't allow that sort of behavior when you were a little tyke, visiting your auntie. You should be more careful. And more respectful."

He murmured, "Yes, I should. My apologies," and even sounded like he meant it.

Veronica softened the rebuke with a smile. "It is good to see you around more."