shifted her gaze to the computer. “I noticed Frank had on very high-end tennis shoes and a Cartier watch.”
“The watch could be a fake,” Gabe cautioned, annoyed that she’d assume a janitor couldn’t afford nice things. “Or he could have saved up.”
“Of course the watch could be fake.” Her tone matched his growing irritation. “It’s just…well, you’d have to meet him.”
If the man checked out, Gabe wouldn’t have to meet him. He typed Frank’s name into the computer. Kristina came around the desk to peer over his shoulder. Her fresh, powdery scent teased his nose and brought back memories he’d thought long gone.
He gave her a sidelong glance. “Do you mind?”
She had the grace to duck her chin sheepishly as she stepped back. He forced himself to concentrate.
Within a few minutes, a rap sheet filled with petty larceny and misdemeanor assault charges came up. Okay, so Frank wasn’t a squeaky-clean janitor. Everyone had a past. But experience had jaded Gabe enough to know a criminal past usually never stayed in the past.
“So, he bears watching,” he conceded.
An I-told-you-so look bloomed in Kristina’s clear blue eyes.
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“You’re not going to at least question him?”
“In due time,” he said, rebuffing her astounded expression. “First we have to establish probable cause to bring him in. And until we have more information about Carl’s and Lena’s whereabouts, I’m not jumping to conclusions.”
“But he had Carl’s wallet,” she pointed out. “That can’t be good.”
Was she kidding? “For all we know, he found it,” Gabe countered. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have some work to do.” He stood and pointedly waited for Kristina to precede him. “I promise to call you the second we’ve found something concrete.”
“Sure. Fine. I’ll just sit by the phone and wait,” she stated tartly before walking away.
Gabe had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Kristina Worthington didn’t ever sit around and wait. He could only hope she didn’t do anything to get herself in trouble or interfere with his investigation. Or his peace of mind.
“Just sit by the phone and wait,” Kris grumbled as she crouched behind a stack of crates at the far end of an alley in midtown Boston. “Fat chance.”
Somewhere in the distance a horn honked. Otherwise, the streets were quiet and freezing. Late-night air seeped through her black jeans, black turtleneck and black parka. She’d bound up her hair under a dark baseball cap. Her ears were getting cold. Thankfully it wasn’t snowing again. Her nose wrinkled at the many odd and unpleasant odors wafting in the air. She distracted herself the same way she had since the adrenaline rush of conducting her very own stakeout—by bringing her camera up to her eye.
The shutter silently captured Frank Hayes’s every move. She’d been following the janitor for the past hour, ever since he’d left Miller’s Rest in his little beat-up two-seater.
He’d eaten at a dive that served more booze than food before heading out the back door and down this alley.
Gabe wanted proof the guy was doing something he shouldn’t; well, she’d give it to him.
I’m not jumping to conclusions, he’d said. He’d “watch” Frank, he’d said. Ha! She didn’t see him anywhere around.
Why she’d ever thought herself in love with Gabe Burke she didn’t know. The man was even more stubborn than she remembered. And he’d acted as though he hardly knew her. Hurt rubbed at the wounds left by the summer they’d spent together. Obviously, she hadn’t meant much to him.
Well, good. He didn’t mean anything to her, either.
And contrary to his wishes, she was going to find out what Frank was up to. Then Gabe would have to act.
Frank, his shoulders hunched beneath his big down jacket, turned the corner, disappearing from her view. Kris hustled closer, her black boots squishing in the slushy snow. She paused at the edge of a brick building and cautiously peered around to the other side. There he was, ambling down the deserted street.
Just as she stepped around the building, a hand closed over her mouth and a strong arm cinched across her waist.
Her muffled scream echoed in her ears.
Frank Hayes whirled around. Body tense, his heart hammered against his ribs as adrenaline rushed to his brain, making the world shift slightly. He could have sworn he heard the scuffle of feet on the pavement. The echo of a muted scream. He searched the inky street for signs of being followed. He was alone. Or was he?
He backed up a few steps before turning and hurrying to the end of the block. Just a little farther and he’d be done with his business. He shivered. He loathed being outside in the dark. Too many shadows, too many possibilities.
Bad things happened in the dark.
TWO
Kris clutched her camera to her chest and used her booted heel to kick the person holding her. Please, Lord, save me! She whipped her head around, trying to loosen the grip over her mouth.
“Kristina! Stop!”
The harshly whispered command given in a familiar deep baritone registered. She went limp with relief. The arm around her waist held her for a moment before withdrawing. She sagged, using the brick building for support.
Taking deep, calming breaths, she allowed anger to replace her terror. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The moon bathed Gabe Burke’s hard expression in the muted light. He’d changed out of his suit into jeans and a dark leather bomber jacket. A knit beanie covered his honey-blond hair. “I’m doing my job. What are you doing?”
“Your job.” She pushed away from the wall. Anger warmed her face. Peering around the corner, she smacked the bricks with her palm. “He’s turning the corner.”
“You need to go home.”
“No way.” She darted forward. “We have to at least try to catch up.”
Gabe gritted his teeth. Short of hauling her over his shoulder and carrying her away, he had no choice but to follow. Frank was probably gone now, anyway. Gabe would let Kristina figure it out and then he’d escort her home. Though he’d like nothing better than to throw her in jail for doing something as idiotic and dangerous as following an ex-con.
After Kristina left the station, Gabe had done a little digging and found out that Frank hung out at the HogsHead Tavern. And sure enough, Frank had shown up. Gabe had intended to follow him when he’d seen someone else doing the same. It had taken less than ten seconds for him to recognize the lithe lines of Kristina Worthington. The fact that he could still do so didn’t say much about his ability to forget her.
He
