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  "Damn. She did see him," Burton said. He pulled out a camera and framed a couple shots. Then he helped me into the SUV and closed the door behind me, giving me a smile and a wink.

  I followed Curtis's commands as he held off traffic so I could cross the intersection then parked in a red zone. I gave the keys to the SUV to one of the two guys from the car lot, who gave Burton a wave before taking off, presumably to return the vehicle before anyone there noticed it was missing. The red car was right behind him.

  Curtis was shaking Burton's hand as I walked up, and I saw him blush again as I approached.

  "Thanks for your help, Curtis," I said, taking his hand. "Hope it wasn't too much trouble."

  "Oh, uh, I don't mind doing it for you guys," he said, stammering slightly. "How have you been, Sarah?"

  "Pretty good. How about you?"

  "Oh, you know, the same—" A burst of sound from the radio on his belt interrupted us. "Excuse me."

  He moved away to answer the radio then looked back, a flash of disappointment crossing his face.

  "Gotta go. Hope to see you soon," Curtis said, moving quickly back to his car.

  He added a blast of the siren to get through the intersection and sped off.

  "Well, that was a productive evening," Burton said, opening the passenger door of his car for me.

  "It's not over yet," I said with a smile. "Someone owes me dinner."

  His lips curled up, and his eyes crinkled. "I know. Any place but Nom."

  I settled into the seat as Burton walked around to the driver's side. So maybe he wasn't hinting at a date when he told me to wear something sexy. I was at least going to get a good meal out of it. And I was ordering dessert. And wine. Maybe that would get the taste of bitter disappointment out of my mouth.

  Burton started the car and signaled to merge into traffic, which was now flowing through the intersection.

  "Where would you like to eat?" he asked.

  "I think I'm in the mood for something expensive. How about Bernino's?"

  He shot me a stern look. "Your help was valuable, but I don't know if it's worth a thirty-five-dollar plate of pasta."

  "You used me as eye candy to get Curtis to help out. Eye candy is expensive. Plus, without me, you'd have never known that Sugar was looking at the other car in the side-view mirror," I said. "And Bernino's pasta is worth it. Have you had their seafood risotto?"

  "I was thinking more along the lines of Leo's taco truck. I'll even spring for dessert at Awful Dan's Waffle Van. I know you like that place."

  Burton merged into a gap between cars, and I gasped as I saw the familiar license plate on the car in front of us.

  "Oh my God!"

  "Fine, girl! God, you're so stubborn," he said with an exasperated sigh.

  "No, not that. I mean, yes, you're taking me to Bernino's. But that's Eddie!" I waved excitedly at the taillights in front of us.

  "Where?" Burton looked around.

  "Right there. In front of us! In the green car!"

  Finally, I had everything I needed to get Eddie served. I had the subpoena in my purse and Burton at my side. No way was he getting away this time.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  If Eddie Lucas was ever going to learn how to lay low, he'd first have to give up his cherished lime green and black-striped muscle car. It couldn't have stood out more—even at night, even on a semi-crowded, four-lane boulevard. Burton had no trouble keeping the car in view.

  "You spoke with Eddie early in the investigation, right?" I asked, sitting up straight in the passenger seat to keep Eddie's obnoxious car in view. "What did he say to you?"

  I'd read Burton's notes from the interview, but I wanted to hear his impressions. Notes can only convey words. Burton could read more than that from the tone of a person's voice, or how they held themselves. Like how, at that moment, I was perched on the edge of my seat, as if I'd have to jump out and chase Eddie on foot.

  At that thought, I reached into my large tote bag of a purse and took out the flats. Eddie wasn't going to escape because of my choice in footwear this time.

  "He kept it short, said he didn't want to get involved because of his pending insurance claim. He said he'd tell me just what he told the police investigator—he didn't know anything."

  Burton's tone told me he didn't believe that.

  "You couldn't prove otherwise?"

  He shook his head. "No."

  The curt answer said a lot too. Burton didn't like being wrong. Or being lied to.

  "He's not on the prosecutor's witness list," I said.

  "Guess they don't think they need his testimony to convict Leo," Burton said.

  That was probably true. Between Leo's own statement and the state's arson expert, it did look like a pretty strong case. But I just couldn't believe that Leo would burn down his restaurant. And I wanted to believe that if Leo were lying, I'd have picked up on his deception.

  "Eddie's married," I said, slipping on the more comfortable ballet flats and putting the heels in my bag. Then I took out the subpoena and set it in the center console in front of the gear shift.

  "Yes. Been married to Carla for twenty-two years. Three kids. House in the suburbs."

  "But he's having an affair with Rita, who owns the lingerie shop," I said.

  Burton glanced my way, and I saw the surprise cross his face. I tried to keep the satisfied smile off my face, but it was hard. I didn't get the chance to beat Burton at his own game too often.

  "How do you know this?"

  "Miranda and I saw him meet up with Rita at her shop. He left in her car. And now she's moving Red Silk Ribbon into the building where Leo's restaurant had been," I said.

  "And that adds up to an affair?"

  "It adds up to something shady," I said.

  Eddie turned onto Chalk Quarry Boulevard, and my pulse quickened. We were about a half-mile from the site of Leo's former restaurant.

  "Maybe that's why he doesn't want to testify. He's afraid that his affair will be revealed," I said.

  "Or maybe he knows more about the fire than he says," Burton said.

  We passed a large construction site where a developer was renovating an old bottling plant into high-end lofts, another sign of Chalk Quarry Boulevard's transformation.

  "Leo says that Eddie was trying to get him to move out of the restaurant before the fire," I recalled.

  "There was a six-year lease, and Leo still had three years to go and an option to renew for another three," Burton said, slowing as Eddie eased the green machine into the center turn lane, then into the parking lot next to the newly refurbished building.

  Instead of the rustic chic look that Leo's bistro had sported, the remodeled building was cleaner and more modern. Painted signage announced that the Red Silk Ribbon would be opening in a few weeks and that there was more parking in the rear of the building. The windows were still covered with paper, but from the glow, it was apparent someone was inside. I could see why Rita wanted to move in here. It was a decent storefront, but the off-street parking was coveted in this part of town.

  We couldn't take advantage of the large parking lot, though, or it would tip Eddie off. Instead, Burton drove past the lingerie shop, flipped a U-turn, came back, and parked on a side street.

  "I'll take the subpoena," he said, grabbing it before I could. "You stay here."

  "No way am I staying here."

  "If he sees you, he's going to run," Burton said.

  "He won't see me," I said. "Plus, he knows you too. You interviewed him. He'll run if he sees you."

  "He's not going to see me until it's too late," Burton said, giving me a wicked grin.

  "I'll stay behind you, but I'm not staying in the car," I conceded.

  Burton frowned and looked around. It wasn't a great neighborhood. It wasn't even a good neighborhood. There were a lot of men with long, unkempt beards, but only a fraction of those had chosen that style out of some sense of hipster irony. The rest were homeless, parolees, or fugitives dodging warr
ants. I had my trusty stun gun in my purse, but I didn't want to sit in a stifling car waiting to use it.

  With a sigh, Burton opened the door. "Fine, you can come. But stay behind me."

  I grabbed my stun gun, stashed my purse behind the seat, and said a quick prayer that the car would still be here when we were done with Eddie. It was dark now, and the temperature was still hovering around 90 degrees. A siren pierced through the usual city soundtrack of traffic and music booming from car windows.

  Burton set the alarm on his fancy and expensive car and gave it a wistful look, as if he hated to leave his baby unattended at the curb in front of a small, blocky apartment building that looked a bit sketchy. The good news was that it was probably under constant police surveillance. It just looked like it was no stranger to yellow crime scene tape. In two years, I had no doubt that we'd be passing by families pushing strollers. But for now, this section of town stayed on the shady side of the gentrification border.

  In my flats, I had no trouble keeping up with Burton as we walked toward Chalk Quarry Boulevard.

  A trio of young men walked down the middle of the street toward us, eyed Burton and me, and made like they might want to get to know the contents of our pockets better. Burton reached out and put an arm around my shoulder as I flipped the switch on my stun gun. He stared down the men, who turned away quickly and walked faster toward the apartment complex. Burton turned and watched them, his arm still encircling me and keeping me close. I was fairly confident of my ability to take care of myself, but there was something comforting about having that heavy arm draped across my shoulders.

  We walked on, slowing as we reached the side entrance of the parking lot. There was a man loitering near the freshly painted stripes. But he took one look at Burton—tall, bald, scowling—and slunk off toward the boulevard.

  The back door of the building was open except for a screen door, and a Dumpster was filled with empty cardboard boxes, as if someone were unpacking a shipment of inventory. Thanks to the light inside, I could see Eddie in the building, leaning against a wall, his back to the screen door.

  Burton led me behind the trash container, where we'd be out of view if someone walked out the door to drop more boxes there. I peered around and saw a sliver of the new store, where Rita was sitting on a red padded bench, sorting silky items and putting them on hangers. Though the only thing that seemed to be in the Dumpster was cardboard boxes, the heat brought out a lingering odor of old trash.

  The sound of annoyed voices carried through the screen door. From the tenor of the discussion, I'd say that we were coming in on the middle of a lover's quarrel.

  "It's not a good time for me to take a vacation," Rita said, her voice tense and curt.

  "Even to Paris? We can go shopping," Eddie said, his nagging tone bordering on pleading. "It's so romantic, darling. We can walk along the Seine and go see that famous cathedral, Notre Dame."

  My eye twitched at his pronunciation, but I kept still in the shadows. The thought of Eddie walking through the city where my father was born and raised, where I had so many happy memories, made me grimace. I just knew he'd be wearing shorts with black socks. Or a fanny pack.

  "For the last time, Eddie—no. I'm about to reopen my shop. This is my dream. I can't trust it to my employees," she said.

  "Just do a soft opening. Restaurants do it all the time. Get the shop open and up and running, then have a huge celebration when you return. We'll just be gone three weeks," I caught a glimpse of Eddie scooting toward Rita on the upholstered bench. "But it's three weeks when we can be together—all day, all night."

  That thought triggered my gag reflex more than the hot garbage bin behind me.

  "Oh, Eddie, you're so romantic. But I can't. This has to be perfect."

  Eddie sighed and leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees. "I'm going without you then."

  Rita jumped up, and I could no longer see her.

  "What?!"

  There was a crash from inside the building, and I felt Burton tense next to me, ready to spring forward if the chaos spread out the door.

  "Well, I've already paid for the hotel suite, the airline tickets," Eddie said. "What am I supposed to do?"

  "I don't know, Eddie. Maybe postpone the trip until your fiancée can go with you?"

  Burton and I exchanged a glance. Fiancée? That might be news to Mrs. Lucas.

  "I want to see Paris in the summer," Eddie said, and I shook my head at that thought. No one wanted to see Paris in the summer. Especially Parisians. The city was hot and humid and packed with…well, tourists like Eddie.

  "Oh my God. You're not going alone, are you? You have a little piece on the side, don't you?"

  At the accusation, Eddie leapt to his feet and walked out of my view.

  "No, no baby. You're my only little piece on the side," he said. "I mean, I love you, baby. Didn't I get you everything you wanted? I got you your dream."

  Rita's huff was loud enough for me to hear, crouched on the pavement about ten feet from the door. She was obviously not convinced that her married boyfriend wasn't cheating on her.

  "Come on, babe. Think about it, okay?"

  "Fine." It did not sound fine.

  Burton nudged me, and I realized that I may have laughed out loud a little. I nudged him back. It wasn't loud enough that I blew our cover.

  "Move," he hissed in my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

  A shadow moved by the door, and I realized someone was coming out. With seconds to spare, I made it around the corner of the Dumpster. The screen door banged open and more boxes landed on top of the heaps. Two bounced off the stacks of cardboard, bonking me on the head in quick succession.

  "Stay here," Burton said, then disappeared.

  Damn. I'd love to know how he was able to move so quietly and gracefully. I reached up and rubbed my head where the corner of one box had landed. At least they were empty. Though even if they'd been full, I couldn't imagine that the silky lingerie being unpacked weighed all that much. At least the Dumpster no longer held restaurant garbage.

  I stayed crouched, grateful that I'd changed shoes in the car. On the other side of the Dumpster I heard the door open again. My brow furrowed. Eddie wasn't leaving, was he? From my position, I couldn't see if he had gone back inside, or if Rita had come out.

  "Did you have dinner yet, love?" Eddie asked, and I froze. It sounded like he was around the corner of the Dumpster from me. Out of habit, I reached for my purse with the subpoena, only to remember that Burton had the document I needed to get into Eddie's hand. I looked around but didn't see Burton.

  Damn it. This would be a great time for him to jump out of the shadows and shove that subpoena…well, at least into Eddie's hand. But where was he?

  "I placed an order across the street." Rita's voice sounded closer too, and I heard the screen door shut.

  "I'll go get it," Eddie offered, clearly trying to get back in his mistress's good graces.

  "No, I'll go. I've been stuck in this store all day and want to stretch my legs. Mind watching the store for a few minutes, so I don't have to lock up?"

  "Of course," Eddie said. "I've a case of that Bordeaux in the trunk. Maybe when you get back we should open a bottle, throw a little party for ourselves."

  I nearly gagged at the thought, but Rita giggled. I heard footsteps and panicked at the thought that she was going to walk around the Dumpster to get to the street, but then I heard the sound of her footsteps fading, and I realized that she was going in the opposite direction.

  I exhaled slowly and tried to slow my heart rate, then peeked around the corner to see if it was clear for me to stand yet. My legs were cramping in my crouched position.

  Eddie whistled as he trotted out to his car, away from the back door of the Red Silk Ribbon. I stood up but stayed low, trying to stretch my aching muscles without alerting Eddie to my presence behind the large metal box. I stepped carefully around a couple of the boxes that had fallen out of the bin and peered into th
e dark, looking for any sign of Burton. This would be an even better time for him to serve that damn subpoena.

  Eddie popped the trunk and leaned over. It looked like he was opening a box, probably the case of wine he'd mentioned.

  As if summoned by my thoughts, Burton materialized out of the darkness about twenty feet from where Eddie was bent over, his body half inside the trunk of his car.

  "Excuse me, sir," Burton said, and I stood up, no longer concerned about hiding my presence from Eddie.

  Eddie didn't even look up. "No hablo Ingles."

  Jerk. He probably thought someone was going to hit him up for money.

  "Mr. Lucas," Burton said.

  Eddie startled, bumping his head against the open trunk as he turned and stood.

  "Who are you? What do you want?" he said.

  His back was to me, but I saw Burton put both hands up, the subpoena in one. "Hey, man. Calm down."

  He took a step back, and Eddie took a step forward. In the faint light, I saw that Eddie had something in his right hand.

  "Get away from me!" Eddie swung his arm, and Burton took another step back.

  That was my cue. I switched on the stun gun and jogged toward Eddie.

  "I'm not here to hurt you. I just need to give you this subpoena." Burton's assurances were met with a new round of slashing motions from Eddie.

  "I don't want it!"

  Burton looked up, away from the knife, and saw me approaching behind Eddie. He shook his head. "Sarah, no."

  Eddie turned toward me, and his mouth gaped open. I saw that the knife in his hand was a box cutter.

  "You? Again?"

  "Just take the subpoena, Eddie," I snapped, the stun gun held out in front of me.

  "No way!" he yelled, his face pink with rage.