Page 37 of Taking Care of the Target

“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning in so that his breath mixed with hers. “I totally learned my lesson.”

***

Jim lifted his ringing phone. He’d switched cars and sat on the street a few blocks down from Rossi’s, waiting and waiting for something, when nothing seemed to be the only thing he got.

He’d hoped it’d be Mancini, calling to say he had a solid lead for them to follow, but the number was unfamiliar. “McVee.”

“It’s Officer Duffy.”

Yesterday during endless hours of surveillance, he pulled up Cassandra Dalton’s accident report again. He didn’t know why he couldn’t quite let it go, even when the facts pointed to her being a dead end. When he found Officer Tom Duffy’s name on the reports, he put in a call to his precinct. “You talk to her?”

“We met for lunch.”

Getting information out of him was like yanking teeth—actually, all that took was pliers and strength, so he’d rather go with that. Between his mentioning that he’d personally escorted Cassandra from the hospital and getting defensive when Jim asked about her and her condition, he suspected Officer Duffy had grown fond of Miss Dalton. “So?”

“Tell me what this is about, and I’ll fill you in.”

Jim sighed. “Like I told you, it’s classified.”

“You feds love tossing that around, don’t you? Makes you feel big and powerful and more qualified than those of us who are out beating the streets all day long. If you just shared information, maybe we’d be able to help each other.”

“Look, I’m happy to go question the girl myself if you refuse to cooperate. I thought you’d be less invasive.”

“Just leave her alone.” The growl in Officer Duffy’s voice was more satisfactory than scary; the copdidlike the waitress. “Her condition hasn’t changed. She has no memory of the accident or what happened before it, but she told me she’d call me if she remembered anything. If that happens, you better let me know what the hell is going on. If she’s in danger—”

“It’s just procedure.” Jim hesitated, going back and forth and deciding a little reassurance never hurt anyone. Especially if he might need favors from said anyone again. “She’s not in danger.”

After all, if Carlo Rossi was after her, she’d be dead already.

Chapter Eighteen

During the hour Cassie spent with Vince before work, she went back and forth on whether to tell him about the car that might or might not have been following her. Obviously he took her safety to the extreme, slightly jealous level, and she didn’t want to make him any more of “a mess,” as he’d put it.

But if she didn’t say anything,she’dbe a mess. Sharing is caring, even if it’s paranoia, right?

“I need to tell you something,” she said, turning to face him just short of the entrance to McCarthy’s. Vince’s posture stiffened, and she put her hand on his biceps and brushed her thumb over the curve to try to convey a calmness she didn’t exactly feel. “It’s probably nothing, but when I walked to the deli today, I thought thatmaybesomeonemightbe following me.”

“Did you get a good look at the driver? What was the make and model of the car? Did you see a gun?”

“No. I don’t know, it was silver with four doors. And I didn’t see a gun. I think the windows were up, but I didn’t stop for a look.”

“Was it a silver Ford Taurus?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. And like I said, I don’t know if it was following me for sure. It’s probably just me being paranoid after what happened the night you and I met, but it turned after I did, and I ran, but then it was gone, so it’s probably nothing.” She bit at her thumbnail. “Don’t freak out or anything, ‘kay?”

Every line of his body went rigid, the muscles under her hand turning rock solid.

“It looks like you’re freaking out,” she said.

“This is me not freaking out. If Iwerefreaking out, I’d haul you back to the Jeep and refuse to let you go to work. Now that I think about it, that’s a good idea.”

He reached for her, and she put a hand to his chest to hold him back. “You promised you were going to work on the possessive thing and trusting my judgment. Remember?”

“Yeah, that was when we were making out in my Jeep, and I was trying to keep us out of a fight. I never actually agreed.”

Her mouth dropped open. After kissing him, she thought they had a productive conversation about how she understood why he might be overly cautious, but for things to work, they’d need to trust each other’s judgment and each other in general. “I guess you just delayed the fight till now, then.”

“From now on, I’m taking you to and from work.” He nodded to himself, and she wondered if he’d even heard her last sentence.

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