and colorful handbag hung over her arm.
Kristina Worthington.
What was she doing here? They hadn’t talked in over eight years. He’d caught a glimpse of her at a friend’s wedding a while ago, but he’d done a good job of avoiding her. Now she was in his place of work.
Not the typical Monday morning.
Gabe automatically rose as she stopped in front of him. Kristina regarded him with a mixture of wariness and hope in her baby blues. The top of her head reached his chin. He’d always been partial to petite women. This woman in particular.
Keep it professional, Burke.
“Kristina, long time no see. Can I help you?” he asked as he studied her beautiful oval face.
“I hope so.” She glanced at Angie, who watched them with raised eyebrows. “Do you have a moment to talk?”
“Is this a police matter?” he questioned, ignoring the battering of his heart.
“Uh, well. Yes,” she replied as a blush brightened her cheeks.
Now why did disappointment nip at him so viciously? He fought to keep his expression neutral. “Then we can talk here. This is my partner, Angie Carlucci.”
Angie bolted up and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs…?”
His unexpected visitor swallowed before reaching out. “Just Miss, Kris…tina Worthington.”
Using her interrogation face, Angie hiked a hip on Gabe’s desk and flipped her black ponytail over her shoulder. He smothered a grin at the display of female rivalry.
Kristina’s gaze returned to him expectantly, probably anticipating he would fawn all over her as he’d done so long ago when he’d foolishly tried to believe in love and all the trappings that accompanied the sentiment. He’d made that mistake once. Once was enough.
Feeling the need to expedite things, he prompted, “What can I do for you?”
She twirled one long strand of silky hair around a slender finger of her ringless left hand. A monster-size emerald pendant hanging from her slender neck twinkled in the fluorescent overhead light. A blatant reminder they came from different worlds. “I know it’s going to sound bizarre. I mean it’s a strange tale and you probably won’t believe me—”
He held up a hand, halting her as he pulled out a chair. “Here, sit. Just start at the beginning.”
With a nod, she sat and waited until he was seated before launching into her story. She told them of the retirement center and her grandmother’s insistence that people were disappearing. She was right. Her story did sound odd. Bizarre. And, yes, strange. But no worse than some of the stuff he’d heard before.
Life, he’d long ago acknowledged, was unpredictable. Anything could, and would, happen. Being prepared was half the battle.
When Kristina dug through her large tapestry bag and produced a man’s black wallet, Gabe held out his hand. “You found this…on the janitor’s cart?”
Kristina scrunched up her nose. “I didn’t find it. My grandmother did. Hidden beneath a stack of towels.”
He raised an eyebrow at that. “You two shouldn’t be snooping around. You might actually find trouble.” Gabe passed the wallet to Angie, who proceeded to pull out the contents.
“Driver’s license. Expired,” Angie announced. “Credit card, library card and a senior’s discount restaurant card.” She hopped off Gabe’s desk and settled in her own desk chair. “I’ll run these through the computer. See if we have him on file.”
“You probably will,” Kristina said. “My grandmother said he belonged to a gang when he was young.”
“Then maybe he wanted to disappear?” Gabe suggested. “It wouldn’t be unusual for an ex-gang member to need to vanish, if, say, someone he’d once crossed found out where he’d retired.”
Kristina’s eyebrows drew together. “I suppose. But what about Lena? She wasn’t in a gang. She was a sweet little old lady.”
“Maybe they ran off together,” he remarked drily.
“Not according to the center’s director.” Blue fire sparked in her eyes. “Something’s happened to them.”
She seemed genuinely concerned. Gabe took out a pen and paper. “I’ll do some checking and see if I can track Lena—what was the last name again?”
“Street.”
“Right.” He made a note. “And the janitor?”
“Frank Hayes,” she supplied.
After jotting down the name, he asked, “Where can I reach you?”
The pretty blonde hesitated long enough to make him raise an eyebrow.
She surprised him further by taking the pen and paper from his hand with just the slightest brush of skin against skin, but awareness zipped all the way to Gabe’s toes. He mentally shook the sensation off and focused on what she was doing. She wrote down her information and laid the paper on his desk.
Gabe sighed. “I’ll let you know the minute I have anything,” he said and motioned for her to proceed him. “I’ll walk you out.”
She didn’t move. “Aren’t you going to check into Frank?”
Slowly he nodded as a little bubble of irritation shot through him. He didn’t need her dictating his job to him. “Yes. And I’ll let you know what I find out.”
She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest, her tapestry bag dangling from the crook of her elbow. “I’d rather wait.”
He shook his head. He’d rather she walked back out of his life, thank you very much. “That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll wait,” she repeated.
Figured Miss Worthington of the Beacon Hill Worthingtons would expect to have her own way. Seems the rich, pampered socialite hadn’t changed. Though she’d tried her hardest to make him change when they’d dated, wanting him to be more like the rest of the people in her privileged world, his world consisted of Good Will purchases and Top Ramen. Like water and oil. Their lives didn’t mix well.
Angie turned in her chair to say, “Carl Remming is an ex-con. Busted at nineteen for shoplifting and again in his early twenties for grand theft auto. Has a clean sheet after that. I’ll run his credit card.”
Gabe nodded his approval. “Check with the airlines, buses, trains for both Carl and Lena Street.”
“Righto,” Angie agreed and returned her focus to the computer.
Gabe gave in and sat back down. “Are you always this tenacious?”
Kristina lifted her chin. “I find it helps in certain situations.”
He met her gaze.
