The Stranger You Seek - By Amanda Kyle Williams Page 0,64

from. We spent a whole day shopping last weekend.”

“He took you shopping? Wow. That’s so … so Richard Gere in Pretty Woman, isn’t it?”

“Oh, come on, Keye. Let me enjoy this, okay? I think it’s sweet.”

The waiter delivered Diane’s second elderflower cosmo in a wide martini glass. It had a lovely lavender tint and a thin layer of ice on the top. I could smell it. Diane held up her glass. “I drink for those who can’t,” she told me. “Cheers.”

“So selfless.” I smiled.

“This one’s different, Keye. It feels like the big one.”

Diane believed fully in love, believed everyone had a soul mate, a perfect match—the big one. I had believed it once too, but that was a long time ago.

“Tell me everything. Name, rank, serial—”

“Good evening, Dr. Street.”

“Jacob!” I dropped my fork. I couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d hit my thumb with a hammer.

“Pardon the intrusion, but I couldn’t let the opportunity pass.” Jacob Dobbs stood at our table, looked at Diane. “My, aren’t you lovely.” He was wearing a perfectly tailored suit with strong shoulders to project the power he so enjoyed. Dobbs was fair-skinned with light eyes. He looked like he’d just shaved. I could smell his cologne.

Diane smiled and extended a hand to shake Jacob’s. Instead, he bent forward and kissed the top of her hand. Diane’s fair skin reddened.

I intervened. “Diane Paulaskas, this is Jacob Dobbs. My old boss.”

The information had to wade through the cosmos she was drinking, but I saw it register. Her smile withered.

Jacob pulled a chair from the empty table next to us without asking, smoothed his shirt and tie as he sat. “Well, then, it’s nice to see you looking so well,” he said to me in his Masterpiece Theatre British accent.

One of the staff arrived with our salad selections, and Dobbs announced in his showy way that our check should be delivered to his table. Diane ordered another twenty-dollar cosmo on Dobbs, then winked at me.

It had been years since I’d spoken to Jacob Dobbs. I’d seen him, of course, like the rest of the country, when television needed a talking head with a photogenic face to explain why killers kill. The media loved to employ Dobbs as their expert witness. He specialized in sounding so sure of the labyrinthine ways of killers. Oh, what the hell, I decided. It had been a long time. Why not bury the axe? Besides, if I was rude now, after being thrown off the Wishbone case, I’d appear bitter and jealous.

“You’re looking well too, Jacob. Are you alone for dinner?”

He nodded. “Never miss Bacchanalia when I’m in town. The chef is an old friend. Would you like to meet her?”

“I’m good, but thanks.”

A slightly bored smile from Dobbs. His eyes skipped over me. I felt my entire body tense. The bastard. His eyes moved away from me and to the table, the coffee press, my water glass, then to my breasts and neck and face, very deliberately and very slowly. “Still sober, then, are we?” he asked, and his eyes finally rested on mine.

So much for burying the axe.

Diane accepted delivery of her third cosmo. “I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Dobbs, but—”

“Please call me Jacob.”

“It’s girls’ night, Mr. Dobbs,” she persisted to my surprise. Diane was usually all aflutter around power types. I thought her coolness now spoke volumes about her loyalty to those she loved. “But it’s very nice of you to pick up our check,” she added.

“I didn’t mean to intrude. A pleasure meeting you, Diane.” Dobbs rose, then looked down at me. “You’ll be asked to turn over your notes and files to me, Dr. Street. Let’s make time for that very soon.”

“Of course,” I said. “And Jacob—it was nice to bump into you. It reminded me what a sonofabitch you are.”

Dobbs touched my shoulder lightly. “Have a drink, Keye. It always calms you down.”

And then he walked away, shoulders square, head up, expensive suit, expensive shoes.

Diane blew out air. “Whoa! That was intense.” She was beginning to look a little tipsy.

I decided it would be best if I drove us back to my office after dinner. Diane had two more drinks and held on to my arm as we left the restaurant.

Neil had popped a theater-size barrel of popcorn for the occasion and tried hard to lighten my mood when we arrived. It wasn’t working. The three of us sat on leather sectionals in front of the big television and watched the special report