Page 56 of Agent vs. Assassin

Where was Ghost today?

I led him right to Elsa today.

But he did nothing.

Unless…she’s already dead?

No. He’d call me and brag.

My gut says Elsa and Ghost are both alive and following me and that can end only one way, and that’s bloody.Tonightcould be just another night Jack jabbers about horror movies while I don’t listen. Or…not.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Jack meets me at the diner by my design.

Less time to talk. And talk. And talk.

At present we’re sitting at the far table near the bathrooms, which is always the best seat in the house, waiting for Marissa to get in. She’s late but this is her table when she finally arrives. In the meantime, I drink coffee, or rather spoon it, as it’s covered in whipped cream, and Jack, well, he’s Jack and he’s making up for lost time in the talking category.

“Did you know that one of theCandymankillings was based on a true Chicago crime story? And the bees were real. Plus—”

“Is that her?” I ask, as I have eyes on the frontdoorand he does not.

He twists around and then faces me again. “That’s her. She’spretty, right? Kind of Barbie-like? She’d be the first one to die in aFriday the 13thmovie andthat’sa real compliment. Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have ordered that steak. I’ll look gluttonous right?”

It’s only now that I realize his hair is slicked back and his collar shirt well pressed. Pressed. He has a crush. Thankfully not on me. “I told you not to order the steak,” I chide. “I really don’t want to see you chewing on meat.”

He pales. “What? Why? Do I chew meat funny? Have you ever seen me chew meat?”

Marissa appears at our table and sets hissteakin front ofhim and I guess her to be in her mid-twenties and he’s right. She’s pretty in a doll-like way. “Hi Jack,” she greets, and pulls a bottle of steak sauce and a knife from her apron and sets them beside him. “Good to see you. I ah—”

“Hi,” Jack says, sounding as nervous as he looks, his voice quaking.

“I’m glad you came back in.” I shift slightly and her gaze rockets to me. “Oh. I’m sorry. Let me get your cake.” She rushes away.

Jack gives me an incredulous look. “You got cake. What happened to the pie?”

“I want cake,” is all I say, but what I don’t say is that if Ghost is watching, I want him to know he ruined my pie for me. At least right now.

“Should I eat the steak in front of her?” heasks, andgrabs his fork and knife and starts cutting.

“If you want to be chewing while she’s talking to you.”

“I can’t just stare at it.” He stuffs a bite in his mouth and starts chewing. And chewing.

“They’re tough as rubber here,” I say. “That’s why I said, don’t get the steak.”

Marissa returns and sets my Italian cream cake in front of me. It looks delicious and not at all healthy. I’ll try again tomorrow. I lift my badge and show it to Marissa. “FBI.”

Her gaze rockets to Jackwho’sstill chewing. “You set me up.”

He shakes his head. “No.” He grabs a napkin and spits out the steak. “No. It’s just—”

“Tell me about the waitress that went to Nashville. Or do I need to talk to Meghan. Where is she?”

She purses her lips and squats. “That was me. I just said Meghan. I was nervous. Jill Havens is her name. She had an affair with that man who was murdered. The wife found out andthreatened her and she was very upset. The word is Mark sent her to Italy, not Nashville, where her sister is working, to get her away from his wife, but they divorced anyway.”

“Why is everyone so secretive?”

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