Page 29 of The Sinner's Touch

The door opened around the same time she handed him the menu. Three officers came in, taking a table close to the bar. They glanced at him then looked away. A small smile flirted with his lips. They hadn’t recognized him.

“What’ll you have, honey?” Ellen smiled her best, flirtiest smile.

“How about you?” He winked at her, and she laughed. Another couple of cops entered, momentarily distracting her. She called back into the kitchens to let the waitress know she had tables.

“Food must be good if you get Boston’s finest in here.” He closed the menu. “I’ll have the apple pancakes with a side of bacon and eggs.”

“We don’t normally get them in here.” She entered his order into the POS. “At least not before last night.”

“Last night?” He did his best to sound casually curious, something he prided himself on. “Someone get into a fight?”

“I wish.” Her soft lips turned down slightly. “I was a little afraid to come in to work today.”

“Why’s that, sweetheart?”

“You know the crazy guy going around killing women?” Her tone became hushed, and she leaned forward, showing off her cleavage. He took full advantage of the view.

“Yes. Awful thing.”

“He was here last night.”

“What?” He widened his eyes, going for a shocked expression. “Here in the bar?”

“Outside. Dumping a body.” She visibly shuddered, her fear palpable. He could almost taste the salty, bitter flavor of it, just as if her skin was slick from sweat after a good round with his favorite tool.

“Damn.” He let out a low whistle. “That had to be terrifying.”

“Especially for Angel. She saw him. I mean up close and personal, saw him.” She pulled out a paper and placed it in front of him. It was the drawing Angel had provided to the police sketch artist. Seeing it up close, he had to admit it was a very good likeness of him. “I can’t even imagine what she’s going through, her or Jessie.”

“Jessie?”

“One of our waitresses. She saw him too, but only a glimpse. When Pops called to ask me if I could cover Jessie’s shift this morning, I almost said no. I mean, what if he comes back looking for one of them?”

He glanced over to the police officers currently laughing. “With these guys around, I think you’ll be safe. I mean, he can’t be stupid enough to come in here with the police.”

She nodded. “That’s what I’m banking on. They said they’ll have a police presence in the area until this is resolved, plainclothes inside and out so as not to disrupt business during the evening hours. Pops’ one request.”

“At least you’re protected from the big bad wolf.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “I hope so, but I wouldn’t put anything past this psycho.”

You have no idea, my lovely, no idea.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to go check on your food.”

He looked back down at his picture. Angel was very good with details. Excellent memory, but then he expected nothing less of his true masterpiece. The one he would pose in all her glory in the art gallery beside the university. The one where hisgrandfather had had his first paintings shown off. If only the old man could see him now. He had no doubt he’d be proud.

Ellen was on her way with his food, and he hadn’t had anything but soup yesterday. His stomach grumbled appreciatively at the smells currently assaulting his nose from the steaming plate on its way to him.

Once she’d set that down and a glass of orange juice, he dug in and spent the next hour chatting and flirting with the pretty Ellen. All the while, not one officer who came and went even batted an eye at him.

Things were going to work out better than planned. Yes, indeed.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Kade massaged the back of his neck as Bailey parked the car. He was drained, and it was only three in the afternoon. He despised going to do death notices. It was the hardest part of being a cop. Special Agent in the FBI he might be, but at heart, he was still a police officer. Telling someone a member of their family died never got easier. A lot of cops he knew, including FBI agents, often said it got easier, but for Kade, it never did. That look of broken, twisted grief stayed with him.

The biting cold hit him as soon as he stepped out of the car. Damn, but Boston was cold. Unseasonably cold, as Bailey put it. His grandmother would laugh at all the people bundled up against the frigid air. Russia was colder, and this would be a warm front to them. He shook his head at the thought and followed Bailey into the station. The desk sergeant motioned to them, and he paid no attention until Bailey started cussing and demanded to know why no one had called him.

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