didn’t have a prayer of reading his expression. “Who else might want to upset you?”
She had to think about that one. Truthfully, she tried to avoid conflict and didn’t have any enemies she could think of. “Well, there’s…” She let the sentence trail off.
“There’s who?” he prompted gently.
“It’s nothing.” She shrugged. “Just a stupid thought.”
“Coworker? Customer? Some guy who passes you on the street every day and acts a little strange?”
“I was going to say there’s this guy in one of my yoga classes—a student. But he’s harmless, really. Just because someone is a little socially awkward—”
He took the glasses off and tossed them on the dash. “Adriana, I’d really like it if you’d give me permission to come into your house when I drop you off. There are a couple of things I haven’t told you yet.” He flicked a glance at her, and though she’d known his eyes were hazel, she hadn’t noticed the almost hypnotic combination of green and gold, until that split second. And then she remembered—when Daniel Cardenas looked at you, even for just a moment, he really looked at you. And he must have known the effect he had when he did, or he wouldn’t have removed those damned sunglasses just then.
She didn’t want to deal with his pity. She didn’t want to show him her drab house and the refrigerator that lacked all the things you offered a guest. She didn’t want him to have to keep up that unfailing politeness while he witnessed how sad and pathetic her life had become.
But someone was out there. Taking pictures of the dead.
And so she had to know what his last sentence had meant. “What things?”
“I can’t tell you how many times a victim I’ve interviewed has said, ‘I was going to mention this guy as a possible suspect, but he’s harmless,’ and the guy turned out to be not so harmless.” He glanced in the rearview mirror. He’d been doing that a lot, so she looked over her shoulder, too, but all she saw were a couple of innocuous cars cruising along behind them.
She waited for his second point, but instead he just asked, “See that handle up there?”
She blinked at the odd non sequitur. “What?”
“The grab handle.” He motioned slightly with his chin toward the interior handle near the roof. She’d always thought those were put there to hold dry cleaning.
“Yes.”
“Hang on to it.”
As soon as her fingers curled around it, Daniel calmly put the gear shift in Neutral. Then, he cranked the steering wheel to the left, yanking up hard on the emergency brake. With an ear-splitting squeal of its tires, the Charger spun in a tight half circle, fast and hard. Her right side slammed into the passenger door. “What are you—”
But Daniel wasn’t in the mood for questions. His mouth set in a grim line, he let down the brake handle and punched the accelerator, probably leaving most of his tire treads on the asphalt as the car shot forward. The force of it slammed Addy back in her seat. They zoomed past the cars that had been behind them. So fast, Addy couldn’t get even a glimpse of the drivers. As soon as they hit an intersection, Daniel took another hairpin turn to the right. He followed that with a tire-squealing left through a traffic light that had just changed from yellow to red.
After one more careening left turn, Daniel finally slowed down to an acceptable speed, leaving Addy reeling in her seat, dizzy and more than a little car sick.
“Do you always drive like this?” she asked, tentatively loosening her death grip on the grab handle. “Because if you do, I’m so going to throw up on you.”
The half smile actually turned into a full-fledged grin, a flash of straight, white teeth that contrasted against his brown skin.
“You’re laughing at me.” She fussed with the hoodie sweatshirt she’d tied around her waist to make her black, flared-leg spandex pants a little more modest as streetwear.
“I don’t laugh at crime victims.” His expression turned serious once more. He had a nice smile, and despite her confusion over what had just happened and the fear that had been lingering on the edge of her conscience all day, she kind of wished it had stayed a little longer.
“What just happened there? Because I think it was more than a boys-and-their-toys moment.”
Signaling a turn for the first time since she’d gotten into the car with him, he pulled the Charger onto Mermaid Point Drive. He parked the car in front of her little clapboard house.
“You know that guy who walked out of your store with you? Left in a taxi?”
“Stan?” But Cardenas hadn’t even pulled up until several minutes after Stan had left.
“He had the cab circle back and then got out on a side street,” he said. “He was watching you when I picked you up, and then he got into a blue Ford Taurus.”
Oh, no. “But why would he get in a cab if—”
“I lost him on that side street back there, or he probably would have followed us all the way to your house.” Those green-and-gold eyes were back on her, radiating an intensity that made her want to squirm in her seat. “Still think he’s harmless?”
Chapter Three
Though even under torture Daniel Cardenas wouldn’t have shown it, coming face-to-face with Adriana Torres for the first time in four years felt something like the time a bank robber had hit him with a stun gun.
He’d come to Cannery Row looking for her, so the fact that she’d gotten into the car wasn’t the shock of the century. It was her face, or more accurately, her expression, the way she walked, the way she moved, as if she was constantly trying to fold into herself. He’d known her for nearly a decade, and although they’d been no more than casual acquaintances, he’d never seen her look so…subdued.
Then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew what she’d been through. Violence changed you, especially when it happened to someone you loved.
Beautiful girl. I wish we could have saved him.
He got out of the car and walked around it to open her door. She ignored his outstretched hand.
“Liz said you have a wireless Internet connection,” he told her as she unfolded her tall, slender frame from the car. He reached into the backseat, pulling out his laptop case. “If you don’t mind my connecting to it, I’ll tell you everything you should know.”
When Liz had called him aside as they’d gotten back to the station after processing last night’s crime scene to ask him a favor, he’d said yes before she’d even had time to explain what she wanted. Because that’s what you did when a fellow cop needed you. That’s what you did when your partner needed you.
And when she’d told him that Elijah Carter, if he were indeed still alive, might decide to target the late Detective Brentwood’s fiancée, he’d shuffled his caseload for the next month to make Adriana a priority. He’d even offered to cancel his diving trip to the Caymans, which was supposed to start tomorrow.
