Page 4 of The Last Close Call

“Rowan Healy?”

She jerked her head up as a man stepped over. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark hair. He wore a black leather jacket with droplets of rain clinging to it. Rowan darted a glance at Lila. Her friend didn’t look up, but she lifted an eyebrow in a way that told Rowan she’d sent this guy over here.

“Who’s asking?” Rowan responded, even though she had a sneaking suspicion she knew, based on his deep voice. Not to mention the super-direct look in his brown eyes.

“Jack Bruner, Austin PD.” He smiled slightly. “Mind if I sit?”

She sighed and nodded at the empty seat across from her.

He slid into the booth and rested his elbows on the table. He looked her over, and she managed not to squirm.

“You’re a hard woman to reach.”

Ha. He had no idea how true that was.

“How’d you know to find me here?” she asked.

“Ric Santos told me you hang out here.”

She couldn’t hide her surprise at the mention of Ric. She hadn’t known they were friends. But she probably should have guessed. Law enforcement was a tight-knit group.

She gave him what she hoped was a confident smile. “Look, Detective, I appreciate you coming all the way out here, but I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time.”

“Just listen.”

Two words.

A command, but not. When combined with that slight smile, it was more like a statement. Something she was going to do, even if she didn’t realize it yet.

Rowan felt a surge of annoyance. But again, she gave him a nod.

Sasha appeared at the table and rested her cocktail tray on her hip. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked the detective.

“A Coke, please.”

She nodded. “Rowan?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

She walked off, her cascade of blond hair swinging behind her.

Rowan settled her attention on the detective.

“I’m with APD’s violent crimes unit, as I mentioned on the phone,” he said.

With every call, he’d politely identified himself and given a callback number. Rowan had called the number once and—equally politely—left a message with her response. But he’d stubbornly ignored it.

“I’m working on a case,” he said, “and I could use your help.”

Rowan nodded. “Like I told you before—”

He held up his hand and gave her a sharp look. Listen.

“It’s a serial offender,” he continued. “Eight sexual assaults.” His dark brows furrowed. “This guy’s careful. We’ve only recovered one DNA profile, the second attack in the series.”

“If you’ve only got one profile, how do you know it’s the same guy?”

“Because—”

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