“As I’m sure you heard, my meal was on the house.”
“Yet you paid.”
“Well…yes.” I shoved the money back. “I don’t like taking advantage of people.”
“Neither do I.”
“See you tomorrow.” Clay chucked me under my chin. “Have I mentioned how good it is to see you?”
“Only every five minutes since you accosted me outside my shop.”
“I’m sorry about that.” His gaze dipped to the floor. “You know how it is.”
“I do.” I kicked his shin under the table. “I don’t hold it against you.”
“Later, ladies.” He waved a big hand. “And yes, I included you in that, Ace.”
“Keep me updated,” his partner warned. “Routine transports can go sideways fast.”
“A transport?” I swirled my OJ. “Now that I know I’m part of a twofer, I feel less special.”
“The transport is cover to explain why we’re here without alerting anyone to your location.”
“What he said.” Clay took one last swig of his coffee. “We’re doing our best to fly under the radar.”
“Who sent you?” I set down my glass. “Specifically?”
“The director.” Clay left it at that. “Personally.”
The director had a vested interest in me. I had zero interest in him. But I wasn’t surprised to hear he had bided his time until he could use a copycat killer, a fact I had yet to verify, to lure me back into the fold.
“Email me copies of the case files.” Involvement from the director changed things. “I checked last night, and my work email is still good.” The director knew my location, so there were no worries about him using my login to find me. “Send it there.”
Aside from the usual Bureau junk that clogged everyone’s inboxes, I discovered a mountain of email Clay had sent me over the years. The tone of the first one, sent a week after I disappeared, ripped my heart out through my nose. I couldn’t finish reading it, and I couldn’t bear to open the others. Deleting them was out of the question, so I filed them away.
The way Clay rubbed the base of his neck told me he was thinking about those emails too.
“I’ll have to clear it with the director,” Asa said. “Until your other request is approved or denied, we have to treat you as a rogue agent, and that means no sharing sensitive details of an ongoing investigation.”
“I understand.” I cut my eyes toward Clay, whose poker face was nonexistent. “I look forward to hearing from you.”
Trailing a finger across his forehead, he turned and left with a smile for the proprietress.
Asa rested his elbows on the table. “What did he mean by that?”
“Are you serious?” I snorted a laugh then realized he meant it. “Oh.” I cleared my throat. “He was asking if he’s got sucker stamped on his forehead.”
“You two read each other well.”
“We were partners for a long time.”
Thirty years, give or take. A blip in time for him. A lifetime for me.
“I’ve never seen Clay so animated.”
Given my earlier faux pas, I verified, “Was that a joke?”
“Yes.”