Point of Danger (Triple Threat #1) - Irene Hannon Page 0,50
was going to ask pointed questions about her guest, that was a given.
Sad to say, she wouldn’t have the answers to many of them.
Especially the key one.
Because while she could assure Grace she’d made her interest crystal clear to Brent, she had no idea if he would follow up—or give up.
And between that uncertainty and this evening’s new threat from her tormentor, it was going to be a long night.
At least she’d make serious headway on her floors.
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:15 p.m.
U home?
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:16 p.m.
Almost. Long drive.
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:16 p.m.
How did it go?
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:17 p.m.
Damage done. But cops showed up fast.
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:17 p.m.
Not the plan.
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:18 p.m.
I know. But ready 4 next step.
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:20 p.m.
Need to think about that.
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:20 p.m.
I can handle.
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:22 p.m.
Window is closing. Can be no mistakes.
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:22 p.m.
Won’t b. U have plan?
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:23 p.m.
Yes. Finalizing details. Will text 2morrow.
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:23 p.m.
What is timetable?
Al
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:26 p.m.
U there? Timetable?
Dan
Sat., Sept. 1, 10:27 p.m.
Soon. In two weeks, ER will be gone.
12
DOUG HAD SHOWN UP —and the corners of his lips rose when he caught sight of her waiting in the restaurant’s bar—but his face didn’t brighten like it always did. He was also late.
Neither boded well for their weekly lunch.
Giving him her warmest smile, Carolyn slid off the stool and wove through the crowd in the foyer toward him. “I thought you’d stood me up.” She used the coy, teasing tone men seemed to like. “I was afraid I’d have to eat alone.”
“Sorry. I was stuck in a meeting.” The apology was perfunctory, and he did no more than glance at her before motioning toward the dining room. “Ready for lunch?”
“Sure.”
She took the lead, weaving through the other diners toward their usual table, and slid onto her chair. As she picked up her napkin, Doug signaled for the waiter.
He wasn’t wasting any time on small talk, trying to stretch out their lunch as long as possible.
Another bad omen.
“I can’t linger today.” He straightened his silverware. “It’s crazy at the station.”
“I can imagine.” But the undercurrent of tension in the air suggested there was more to his haste than work issues.
The waiter appeared, and after they gave him their orders she focused on Doug. “You seem more stressed today than last week. Fallout from the last-minute bombshell that caller dropped on Eve’s show Wednesday?”
“No. She handled the response masterfully on her blog and on Friday’s program.”
Yes, she had.
It was hard not to admire the woman, even if you wanted her programming slot.
“She’s a pro.”
“Yeah.” Doug brushed at a speck on the tablecloth. “And the sponsors are sticking. So we’re holding our own at present.”
“That’s positive news.” For Eve—and the station—anyway. “Any recent developments on the case?”
“Yes—but we’re keeping the latest under wraps. Eve doesn’t want it broadcast to the public.”
She called up her flirty smile. “I’m not the public.”
“No. You’re press.” He picked up his water and took a sip, avoiding eye contact.
O-kay.
Her phone call to him after Eve’s Wednesday program must have done more damage than she’d estimated.
This required finessing.
She touched his forearm and put on her worried face. “Doug . . . you know I’d never divulge a confidence. I’m not here as a newspaper reporter. We have a . . . friendlier . . . relationship than that.”
His gaze dropped to her fingers. Lingered. Then he swallowed and eased his hand away. “I thought we did too.”
Thought.
Past tense.
Fighting back a wave of panic, she retracted her fingers and smoothed out the napkin on her lap. Something was very wrong.
And avoiding the issue wasn’t going to fix it.
Since charm alone no longer appeared to be working, she might have to turn up the heat and resort to the plucking option—as soon as she convinced him she’d been on overload after a tough morning at work on Wednesday, and apologized for coming on too strong about her radio ambitions. Doug, of all people, would understand the difficulty of coping with stress.
She leaned toward him, making no attempt to hide her concern. “You’re not yourself today. What’s going on?”
Wadding up the napkin in his lap, he finally gave her his full attention. “I need to ask you a question.”
A tingle of unease slithered down her spine. “This sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“All right. I’ll do my best to answer.”
He scanned the room, leaned closer to her, and lowered his voice. “Do you know anything about that call Eve