“You’re not okay,” Garrison said.
“I’m fine. Just shaken.”
He captured her elbow in his large hand. “Let’s get you back inside.”
The top of her head barely reached his shoulders and she suspected his weight doubled hers. This close she could see that not an ounce of fat clung to Garrison’s frame. All muscle. Power. Normally, she stayed clear of men like him. Too risky. Dangerous. He could overpower her with less effort than Radford had used, but possessed a steady calmness that eased her nerves. He smelled of male earthiness and the faintest hint of aftershave. “Thank you.”
He looked at her for the first time since he’d charged into the alley. Concern tempered the anger in his gaze. “Your neck is red. You should see a doctor.”
“I’ve survived worse. This is nothing.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t see a doctor.”
“I’m good.” She didn’t have insurance and cringed at the expense of an emergency room trip.
King clenched his bat. “I’m grateful you were here, Detective. I can swing a bat if need be, but I don’t move so fast. ”
Garrison nodded. “If you hadn’t started yelling, I’d not have known what was happening until it was too late.”
Too late. Eva understood too late. No one had saved her from Cross.
“I’m fine. I’ve a shift to finish.”
King shook his head. “You’ll sit on that fanny of yours and ease up. That’s an order.”
“I’ve dishes to wash, a register to cash out and"—her head spun—"stuff to do.”
Garrison applied firm steady pressure, gently guiding her back through the kitchen into the bar. He sat her at a booth. “Don’t move.”
She’d have argued if she’d had the energy. But her head spun and her neck still burned. A swell of emotions triggered by the attack rose up in her, clawing at her insides. Damn Radford. Damn him!
Garrison set a soda in front of her and took the seat across from her. “Drink.”
Hearing Garrison’s voice steadied her emotions and she was grateful to have the soda to sip. Her cola eased the soreness in her throat, now raw from screaming. “Thanks again.”
King arrived at the table and set two menus down. “Order dinner. It’s on me.”
“I ordered roast beef at the bar,” Garrison said. “And I’ll pay.”
“I’ll make you a fresh one,” King said. “It’s cold by now. And you won’t pay. Eva, what are you gonna eat?”
“I’m okay.”
“Stop your yapping and pick something,” King said.
Eva didn’t bother with the menu. “Burger.”
“Don’t you move,” King said to Eva. “No work. Sit. Rest.”
“Okay.”
“She won’t go anywhere,” Garrison said. When King had left, he said again, “You sure you’re okay?”
“Why do you keep asking?”
“I read your police file from ten years ago, Eva. That kind of trauma doesn’t evaporate.”
Embarrassment washed over her. “I know.”
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I know that. I did nothing wrong.” She’d told herself that so many times, she just about believed it now.
“Reading your police files made me cringe. You must have been terrified.”
“I didn’t know fear could be so intense that you could actually get sick to your stomach.” She rubbed her eyes.
“You ever get counseling?”
“Some in prison. It helped to know I wasn’t alone.”
King arrived with their plates and set them on the table. “Detective, be sure she eats her dinner. She’s bad about eating.”
Garrison kept his gaze on Eva. “Understood.”
Eva squirmed under his gaze. A sudden wave of desire moved through her body, making her wonder if she had lost her mind. “I eat enough, King.”
King rolled his eyes. “Don’t believe her. She works too hard. Burns the candle at both ends.”
Garrison nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Eva dropped her gaze to her plate, taking a sudden interest in the ruffled potato chips.
Garrison studied her. He seemed to sense a raw nerve, but instead of pressing, he said, “So who is that kid I saw here the other night? He your son?”
That surprised her. “He’s not my son. He’s King’s foster son.”
“Who’s his mom?”
“King hasn’t said much about the boy’s past.”
Dark eyes assessed so very carefully. “You’re always on pins and needles around me.” He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I’m not out to get you, Eva.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” She met his gaze. “You’re a cop. You’re investigating two murders. I knew both the victims. I’m an ex-con. And I’ve learned the hard way that the less said to cops the better.” She started to rise.
“King told you to take a break. So prove to me you’re not nervous and sit and eat.” A grin softened his face in ways that made trust tempting. “We’ll talk about the weather. That should be safe enough.”
“The weather?”
“Maybe basketball. ”
The tension in her gut didn’t ease, but she sat back in her seat. “You use that smile of yours like a weapon.”
“How so?”
r />
“To throw people off guard.”
The smile widened. “Is it working?”
She ate a chip. “Unfortunately.”
“Good.” He took a few bites of his roast beef sandwich. “So when you go to school, what do you plan to study?”
“I don’t want to talk about me. Let’s talk about you.”
His defenses rose. “Sure.”
“I see no wedding ring. Is there a Mrs. Cop at home?”
“No.”
She studied him. “Terse and to the point, which tells me there was a Mrs.”
“You’re sharp. Yeah, there was a Mrs. She died.”
Her brow knotted. “I’m sorry.”
“It happens.”
“How?”
He set his sandwich down and wiped his hands with his napkin. “For someone who doesn’t worry about the past, you sure are interested in mine.”
She shrugged, no hint of an apology. “You got to read files on me and I’ll bet you called the prison.”
He’d never talked to Macy about his wife or his sister and yet he heard himself saying, “My sister died of cystic fibrosis in high school. She was fifteen. My wife was a lost soul and I thought I could save her. I couldn’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I was young and determined to fix the world.”
“Which isn’t possible.”
“I’ve settled for saving little pieces at a time.”
For the first time she presented him with a warm smile. The look transformed her face, adding a glow that appealed to him far too much. Then she seemed to catch herself.
“Where’d the smile go?” he said.
“It just hit me that I’m having too good a time.”
That pleased him. “That’s bad?”
“Trusting you is dangerous. ”
“I’m a good guy. All I’m trying to do is enjoy a meal.”
She laughed out loud. “Right.”
Lou sat in the basement room thumbing through the Price yearbook. The book spine had cracked at the pages containing images of Lisa, Sara, Kristen and Eva. Of course, there were the class pictures. They smiled so neatly and carefully into the camera lens. Seemingly so perfect and sweet. The world didn’t know that beneath the smiles lurked such vile evil.
The formal portraits weren’t nearly as revealing as the photo snapped in front of the sorority house. Lisa, Sara and Kristen stood in the center of the front row of girls while Eva stood in the back to the left. All the girls smiled, but in this image, all four girls looked boldly at the camera. They all mocked the world and sent the silent message that only they knew The Secret.