Page 26 of Home Team Advantage
But she shook her head slowly. The man offered another vague smile and then sat down. He extended one leg and let out a breath, as if in relief. The position angled his body slightly toward her, but his attention soon focused on the computer in front of him.
Anna watched him discreetly. He clicked. He sipped his coffee. Did nothing overtly suspicious. And yet there was something off about him. Something that set off warning bells.
He was too still, she realized. Most people’s eyes moved when they read or looked at images. Their lids narrowed or widened. They shifted in their seats, inclined their heads toward the screen for a closer look. Made facial expressions in response to various visual stimuli.
Not him. His eyes were on the screen in front of him, but his attention was elsewhere. On her, if her instincts were correct. He wasn’t just a cop then. He was a cop who was interested in her specifically.
Anna trusted her instincts. They told her when to run. When to hide. When to fight.
They hadn’t been wrong yet.
At that moment, there were screaming warnings, telling her to get out of there, to get away from him, and to do so in a way that didn’t rouse suspicion.
She did everything he didn’t—forced her eyes across the page, over words she didn’t absorb. Closed a window. Leaned in close, allowing a ghost of a smile to curl her lips. Then made a show of checking her watch before she closed out of everything and gathered her things.
He looked up briefly, then went back to his computer.
Anna walked to the front of the library. Hung around for a moment. Then, as if realizing she’d forgotten something, she turned around and walked back to where she had been. When she got close, she changed course, took a detour, and approached from a different direction.
The man was still there, but he had moved spots. He was now sitting where she had been, using the computer she had used. Unlike earlier, his fingers now moved like lightning, and he was one hundred percent invested in whatever he was doing.
Was he one of those people who were compulsive about their routines? Like, he had to sit in the same spot, use the same computer, perform the same series of tasks in a certain order?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Her instincts said … not.
Anna turned and resumed her exit, her heart beating fast, her mind racing right along with it. Who was that guy, and why was he so interested in what she’d been looking at?
Chapter Sixteen
MATT
Matt stood back in the shadows, watching the scene unfold. The cop-slash-PI was less than smooth. The guy had the stealth of a drunken raccoon. Anna had pegged him as a threat the moment he entered her space.
She had good instincts, that one. Good instincts, but apparently not enough experience to delete her browser history.
Then again, neither did the cop.
It was the work of a minute for Matt to check out the history after the cop skulked off with his little notebook. There wasn’t much to see. Anna had pulled up several online news sites and clicked about half a dozen links. None of them were particularly interesting, with the possible exception of a gubernatorial race in Illinois. Why would she be interested in that? Was that where she was from? Did she know someone there? Have a stake in the outcome?
Matt made a mental note of the names and faces in the article. He’d do some research when he got home later and pass the information on to Ian. If there was any connection there, Ian would find it.
He slipped out of the library, using one of the side exits. A quick check confirmed that Mrs. Campbell’s van was still in the municipal lot, so Anna was around somewhere. He followed his instincts to the public square, a bricked plaza with statues and benches, surrounded by locally owned small businesses on three sides.
It didn’t take long to find her. She was coming out of a bookstore with a small bag in hand. She checked her watch—she did that a lot, he noticed—and crossed to the diner on the other side of the square.
Perfect.
Matt watched as she entered and was seated at a booth in front of the window. After placing her order with the waitress, she pulled out her book and began to read.
He gave her a few minutes to get comfortable, then strolled across the courtyard in plain view, hands in pockets, as if he was in no hurry. He knew exactly when she spotted him. He felt her gaze lock on to him as keenly as if she’d reached out and touched him.
He liked her eyes on him, he decided. Probably more than he should under the circumstances.
Matt remained seemingly oblivious to the dark-eyed enigma behind the plated glass. Upon entering the diner, he took a moment to look around at the available seating. Noted the occupants, the exits. His plan: to pretend to be surprised when he spotted her.
When he turned her way, however, she was very clearly not looking at him. She was hiding behind her book, which looked to be … a romance, based on the ripped guy on the cover.
