Brody Law: The Bridge / The District / The Wharf / The Hill

“Exactly.”

“Fifty-one plus fifty. Fifty-one fifty.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Forty-two plus fifty-eight. That can’t be a date. He’s not going to commit a murder on April second and tell us about it today.”

“Tell us?”

“You know what I mean.” She reached for her purse. “That’s my phone. It’s Courtney.” She picked up the call. “Hey, did you get checked in?”

“It’s like a minivacation. You can join me if you like.”

“I’m good where I am.” Her gaze wandered to Sean, checking the messages on his phone.

“I’ll bet you are.”

“Thanks so much for letting me stay with you. I’m sorry I led a killer to your doorstep.”

“How were you supposed to know the creep had bugged your car? Are you going to stay there with Detective Tall, Dark and Handsome until this guy is caught, or what?”

“I’m thinking of taking my vacation a little early.”

Without looking up from his phone, Sean flashed her a thumbs-up.

Courtney concurred. “I think that’s a great idea. Oscar should be home next week and I think that he’ll be around all summer, not that he would be much help in an emergency, but at least you won’t be coming home to an empty house.”

“Maybe it’ll be safe by then.”

“Oops. Hold on a minute. The restaurant where I just ordered my dinner is calling me. They forgot to take my address.” The phone beeped on the other end and then Courtney came back on the line. “Four twenty-five, eighth floor.”

“What?”

“Oh, sorry. Wrong line.”

“You sound busy.”

Courtney huffed out a breath. “It’s that needy new client. I’m seeing him after hours again.”

“Well, you go figure out his craziness. I’ll talk to you later.”

She ended the call and pointed her phone at Sean. “Anything new?”

“I called for the autopsy report on Dr. Patrick.”

“And?”

“Preliminary report suggests heart attack.”

“Then maybe that’s all it was—a heart attack and bad timing.”

“A heart attack and an incredible coincidence.” He stretched and perched on the edge of a bar stool. “Is Courtney working late tonight?”

“Yes, her demanding new client.”

“That’s a whole lotta crazy I couldn’t handle.”

“And that’s from someone who gets a package with a finger in it.”

“Come here.” He crooked his finger at her.

She eased out of the chair and sauntered toward him, his dark eyes drawing her like a magnet.

He drew her between his open legs and pinned her. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, Sean.” She rested her hands on his thighs and leaned in to kiss his lips.

His legs tightened around her thighs. “Let’s go out and get something to eat. It’s getting late, and we both have to work tomorrow.”

Nodding, she slipped away from his clinch, missing her opportunity to ask him about their future. She didn’t want to push him into anything. Right now they needed each other, but when that need ended, what did they have?

“You okay?” He chucked her under the chin.

“Greek.”

“What?”

“I want to try that Greek restaurant, if that’s okay with you and if it’s still open this late.”

“Greek it is. I think they stay open until eleven for dinner.”

An hour later they were sitting at a corner table in a noisy establishment in North Beach.

“I can’t believe it’s so crowded at this time of night—and on a Wednesday.” Elise leaned across the table. “Are they going to start breaking plates?”

“Do you want them to?”

She scooped more tapenade onto her plate. “That’s okay.”

Sean checked his phone for about the third time since they sat down to dinner.

“Are you expecting a call or a message? Something about Dr. Patrick?”

“I sent my brother—the FBI agent—a text about Dr. Patrick.”

“So, let me get this straight. You’re a homicide detective, you have one brother who’s a P.I. and another who’s FBI?”

“That’s right.”