Page 101 of The Last Close Call

“I can’t discuss details of an ongoing investigation,” he said. “You know that.”

She thrust her chin forward, clearly not happy.

“Can I ask you one question, at least? Just say yes or no.”

He nodded.

“Have you located him?”

“We’re working on it.”

Heidi’s new lead had been a dead end. Jack had gone to the house on Carpenter and managed to sneak up to the window, and the guy in the living room watching TV was definitely not Will Anderson. So they were back to the female Honda owner Jack had been surveilling all day.

Unless they could come up with another black Civic here in town that they didn’t yet know about.

Rowan stripped off her coat and set it on the seat beside her. She wore a snug-fitting gray sweater underneath, and Jack turned his attention to the restaurant so he wouldn’t stare at her.

His phone buzzed as a text landed, and he took a few moments to read a message from Bryan. He was going to take the lead on checking with the university for any black Civics belonging to students who had campus parking passes. Jack knew it was a long shot, but they were running out of leads. He texted him a response and put his phone away.

Jack looked up, and Rowan was watching him.

“You seem uptight. I take it that means it’s not going well,” she said, still determined to elicit some kernel of information from him.

“It’s okay. I’m just pretty whipped. What’s up with you? I’m glad you came.”

“Why?”

“It’s good to see you,” he said, and she had no idea what an understatement that was. Seeing her, talking to her, just sitting near her was the best he’d felt in days.

What the hell was he doing here? He was in a damn diner with her when just minutes ago he’d had her alone in his motel room.

“Jack?” She looked up at him expectantly. She’d asked him something, and he hadn’t been listening.

“Yeah?”

“I said, did you see the thing in the Statesman?”

“The thing?”

Her gaze narrowed. “You really are whipped, aren’t you? When was the last time you slept?”

“I got a few hours last night.”

She looked worried again.

“So, you were saying? About the Statesman?”

“They ran an article you need to read. It was in this morning’s edition, but I didn’t see it until tonight when I was surfing around.”

The server was back in record time with Jack’s sandwich and a pair of red plastic glasses filled to the brim.

“Thank you,” he said.

“Anything else?” she asked pointedly.

“We’re all set.”

She walked away, and Jack turned to watch Rowan dip into her milkshake with a long teaspoon. He loved that she’d ordered a chocolate shake.

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