Page 30 of The Morning After (Savannah 2)

“Sometimes we help. You need the public to be informed.”

“Rarely. What you really do is rile people up, start making assumptions, scare the hell out of the public, print stories that aren’t always double-checked…it’s a real pain in the ass. But don’t quote me. That’s ‘off the record.’”

“You just don’t like having watchdogs. The media keeps you honest.”

“The media is a pain in the ass.” He glanced down at his uneaten meal, frowned, and reached for his wallet. “I changed my mind. You can stay. I’m not hungry anymore.” He slapped a twenty onto the table and slid out of the booth. “Bon appétit!”

“Hey! Wait a minute.” She took off after him, flying out the door as he strode to his El Dorado. Cold air slapped her in the face as she dashed across the parking lot. He had already unlocked the car when she reached him. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry about the dig about the stakeout,” she apologized. “I blew it. I shouldn’t have brought up what happened in San Francisco. And I know I went too far defending my profession. I know there are reporters that would…sensationalize a story just to make a big splash, okay? I blew it. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I just want this story. I don’t expect you to compromise the investigation. I wouldn’t ask for that. And I don’t expect special consideration, but I want a new angle. I mean, here we are in Savannah and you went all the way upstate to another jurisdiction.”

“So?”

“Why? What’s it to you? What’s going on?” He didn’t respond, just stood there. “Look, I want to work with you, not against you,” she tried again, but he just stared at her. It was still dark, rain was collecting on his dark hair and his expression in the bluish glow from the diner’s neon sign was hard. Uncompromising. Damn near pissed off.

“You people,” he said in a voice so low she barely heard it. “You just never know when to give up, do you?”

“No more than you do. If you gave up, no cases would ever be solved.”

“It’s not the same.”

“We both have jobs to do.”

“That’s right. And I need to get to mine.” He climbed into the huge car, jabbed the keys at the ignition and fired up the engine.

Furious with herself, Nikki stepped back and watched as he wheeled out of the lot.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath. “Just damned wonderful. Some kind of investigative reporter you are, Gillette.” Hiking her collar against the rain, she walked back to the bank’s parking lot and slid behind the wheel of her car. So much for getting closer to Reed. That had backfired. Big time. So it was back to square one. Again. But there was a reason Reed was called up to Lumpkin County. Something important. His expertise? His connections? The fact that he’d been born up there? What? She’d checked and double-checked, couldn’t find any reason other than he’d spent a few years there as a child and that lead had fizzled into nothing.

Fuming, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and told herself she wasn’t going to figure it out here in the damned empty parking lot. She had some serious digging to do. She pumped the gas and twisted the ignition. As the engine sparked, she looked over her shoulder to back out of her spot when she noticed something move near the hedge surrounding the parking lot, a shadow duck away from the glow of the street lamp.

Her heart clutched.

She glanced in the rearview mirror. Nothing.

Another look over her shoulder showed the hedge undisturbed.

“It’s nothing,” she told herself just as she caught a glimpse of a man standing on the other side of the hedge, still out of the glow of the street lamp. She couldn’t distinguish his features but knew he was staring at her. Watching her.

Had he been waiting?

The same man she’d seen before her meeting with Reed?

Her throat went dry as she threw the car into reverse. So what if a man had been lingering near the diner? Big deal. It wasn’t a crime and it was damned near rush hour. Dawn was already casting gray light into the city. Maybe the guy was waiting for a ride, looking for a bus, on his way to work…

Or maybe not.

There was something about the way he stood, just out of the light, that made him seem different. She’d sensed his eyes upon her. Observing. Her skin crawled instinctively. “Pervert,” she muttered, glancing again at her rearview mirror.

He was gone.

Not a trace of him anywhere near the street.

Vanished swiftly, as if she’d dreamed him.

“Come on, Nikki. Get a grip.” Maybe her imagination was just working overtime and she saw evil lurking where there was none. All the talk about graves and dead bodies and murder was probably just getting to her. “Oh, that’s good,” she thought aloud. “The would-be crime reporter creeped out because of a guy who was probably just waiting for a bus.” What was wrong with her? One co

nfrontation with Reed and she was suddenly jelly? That wasn’t like her. She rammed the car into gear and drove out of the parking lot. There was no one watching her, following her. It was nothing. Nothing!

And yet…

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