If he attacks you, you’ll have your answer.”
She hunched her shoulders. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Really? The dude killed his own sister.”
“Okay, maybe you’re right, but you’re my muscle tonight.” She bit her lip and busied herself printing out Bannister’s page, second-guessing her plan to meet with Ryan in person. She’d have been better off conducting an interview with him over the phone or even over the computer. The man’s presence was scrambling her thoughts and overloading her senses.
“We have about forty minutes. I’m going to get ready. Can we meet in the lobby in a half an hour?”
“Sure.”
She strode to the door and opened it wide, watching him as he moved from the room into the hallway. “Thanks for doing all the work while I snoozed.”
“No problem. It looked like you needed the rest.”
She pulled the door closed and banged her forehead against it. She needed to wrap up this interview process and get down to the business of proving Joseph Brody’s guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.
She brushed her teeth, finger-combed her hair and stuffed her feet into a pair of canvas shoes. They’d do if she had to take off in a sprint.
Ryan had beaten her to the punch again, greeting her with a big smile in the lobby ten minutes early.
“Are you always early?” She threw her sweater over her shoulders, letting it hang.
“Are you?”
“Pretty much.”
“Me too.”
Drawing her small purse across her body, she asked, “How is this going to work?”
“Tell me where you met him last time. You start out first and I’ll follow you, slinking along in the shadows. I won’t be far behind you at any given time, but you won’t see me and neither will Bannister.”
“Should I use a code word or something if I get into trouble?”
“If you want to play spy games, go for it. Otherwise, a good old-fashioned scream will work.”
“I mean—” she stepped through the front door of the hotel and nodded at the doorman “—if I start feeling nervous and I just want you to be primed and ready.”
“I’m always primed and ready.”
He winked at her and she rolled her eyes, but she could believe it with that body. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. How about ‘sauna’? It’s where we first met, where I rescued you from danger the first time.”
“The first time?” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you think there will be a second?”
“There could be tonight—that’s the point.”
“Okay, ‘sauna’ it is.” She gave him the location of her first meeting with Bannister and set out ahead of him, her footsteps jaunty and her head held high.
The usual transients went about their usual business, but this time she eyed each one, wondering if he could have been the one who delivered the doll to the hotel.
The moist air off the bay caressed her face and worked through the waves of her hair. Even though she’d left the city as a child for Seattle with her new family, the smells and feel of San Francisco had never left her—and never would.
She cranked her head over her shoulder once, but couldn’t see one trace of Ryan. He was probably taking a different route to stake out a good location, and with his dark clothing and 49ers cap pulled low on his face, he’d blend right into the scenery of the wharf.
Knots formed in her belly as she waited to cross the street before hitting the walkway along the wharf. Most of the restaurants were shutting down for the night or trying to, and all of the street performers had rolled up their props and gadgets from the sidewalk. Tourists still crisscrossed the streets, weaving in and out of the shops still open for business. The homeless population, the silent army of the night, shuffled from doorway to bench to bus stop, searching for a place to park their possessions.
She strode through the crosswalk and turned left toward the less-populated area of the wharf, its tourist attractions long closed for the day. She spotted the
She hunched her shoulders. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Really? The dude killed his own sister.”
“Okay, maybe you’re right, but you’re my muscle tonight.” She bit her lip and busied herself printing out Bannister’s page, second-guessing her plan to meet with Ryan in person. She’d have been better off conducting an interview with him over the phone or even over the computer. The man’s presence was scrambling her thoughts and overloading her senses.
“We have about forty minutes. I’m going to get ready. Can we meet in the lobby in a half an hour?”
“Sure.”
She strode to the door and opened it wide, watching him as he moved from the room into the hallway. “Thanks for doing all the work while I snoozed.”
“No problem. It looked like you needed the rest.”
She pulled the door closed and banged her forehead against it. She needed to wrap up this interview process and get down to the business of proving Joseph Brody’s guilt beyond a shadow of a doubt.
She brushed her teeth, finger-combed her hair and stuffed her feet into a pair of canvas shoes. They’d do if she had to take off in a sprint.
Ryan had beaten her to the punch again, greeting her with a big smile in the lobby ten minutes early.
“Are you always early?” She threw her sweater over her shoulders, letting it hang.
“Are you?”
“Pretty much.”
“Me too.”
Drawing her small purse across her body, she asked, “How is this going to work?”
“Tell me where you met him last time. You start out first and I’ll follow you, slinking along in the shadows. I won’t be far behind you at any given time, but you won’t see me and neither will Bannister.”
“Should I use a code word or something if I get into trouble?”
“If you want to play spy games, go for it. Otherwise, a good old-fashioned scream will work.”
“I mean—” she stepped through the front door of the hotel and nodded at the doorman “—if I start feeling nervous and I just want you to be primed and ready.”
“I’m always primed and ready.”
He winked at her and she rolled her eyes, but she could believe it with that body. “You know what I mean.”
“I do. How about ‘sauna’? It’s where we first met, where I rescued you from danger the first time.”
“The first time?” She raised her eyebrows. “Do you think there will be a second?”
“There could be tonight—that’s the point.”
“Okay, ‘sauna’ it is.” She gave him the location of her first meeting with Bannister and set out ahead of him, her footsteps jaunty and her head held high.
The usual transients went about their usual business, but this time she eyed each one, wondering if he could have been the one who delivered the doll to the hotel.
The moist air off the bay caressed her face and worked through the waves of her hair. Even though she’d left the city as a child for Seattle with her new family, the smells and feel of San Francisco had never left her—and never would.
She cranked her head over her shoulder once, but couldn’t see one trace of Ryan. He was probably taking a different route to stake out a good location, and with his dark clothing and 49ers cap pulled low on his face, he’d blend right into the scenery of the wharf.
Knots formed in her belly as she waited to cross the street before hitting the walkway along the wharf. Most of the restaurants were shutting down for the night or trying to, and all of the street performers had rolled up their props and gadgets from the sidewalk. Tourists still crisscrossed the streets, weaving in and out of the shops still open for business. The homeless population, the silent army of the night, shuffled from doorway to bench to bus stop, searching for a place to park their possessions.
She strode through the crosswalk and turned left toward the less-populated area of the wharf, its tourist attractions long closed for the day. She spotted the