Page 49 of Liar's Point

She ordered a shrimp basket, and he did the same. When the server was gone, Nicole put the menu away and gazed out at the marina.

“I’m surprised you wanted to eat outside,” she said, glancing back at the propane heater behind her.

“They’re full tonight, so it was this or wait.”

She zipped up her blue fleece and tucked her hands in the pockets. “Brrr.”

“You want my leather jacket?”

“I’m fine.” She leaned forward. “So, what’s wrong? I can tell something’s bothering you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because. When was the last time you asked to meet me for dinner?”

He knew exactly when it was. It had been last July when his dad had heart surgery. Emmet had taken the day off work to sit with his mom at the hospital. The surgery had gone fine, but by the end of the day Emmet was completely wrung out—not to mention he’d reached his limit on small talk with relatives. So he’d called Nicole and invited her to dinner.

“Come on,” she said. “What is it?”

He sipped his beer, then set it on the table in front of him. “Nothing, really. Just had a shit day.”

It was the kind of day that made him question his life choices.

Nicole watched him, her deep brown eyes filled with concern. “You met with Aubrey’s family, right?”

He nodded.

“That must have sucked. How were they?”

“How you’d expect.” He shrugged. “Her mom was distraught.”

“And her dad?”

“Pretty combative, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think he has much faith in our department.”

Nicole sighed.

Because of the town’s size, outsiders often assumed LBPD was a Podunk police department and no one knew what they were doing. But they were located close enough to the border to be on the receiving end of extra funding and training, and their department definitely punched above its weight. Operation Red Highway was a case in point, and Emmet was proud of the way they had outworked other members of the task force—even a few FBI agents who had come down here thinking they were God’s gift to law enforcement.

“So, how did you guys handle it?” she asked now.

“Brady gave him the usual. We’re on top of the case, pursuing every possible lead.”

The server was back with the wine. Nicole thanked her and slid the glass aside, still focused on him.

“Anyway, how was your day?” he asked.

“We were talking about you.”

“I want to hear about the crime lab. What did they come up with?”

She took a sip of wine, and he knew he’d succeeded in changing the subject. “Well, I’m sure you got an update, right? You heard about the hair that Miranda collected?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t there. How did she seem about it?”

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