“That’s just fine.” He leered at me with bloodshot eyes and took a step forward, tottering to the side. He reached for me and said, “You can make it up to me by coming back to my place.”
“I’d rather not.” Stepping back, I glanced toward the knife hidden in my boot.
His eyes narrowed, and he growled, “I insist.”
I tensed and started to bend for my blade. “I’m not—”
“Return to your lunch so I can return to mine,” a familiar voice said, “unless you’d rather finish your meal behind bars?”
The tension in my shoulders eased, and I glanced over at the detective.
The drunk man squinted at Detective Atwood, taking in the aether gun and saber at his belt, the blue star sewn onto the right breast of his leather uniform, and his bright blue cape. His commanding air and sharp uniform amounted to quite the impressive image... Objectively speaking, of course.
The man’s response was slow, but, finally, he shuffled back, mumbling an apology.
“You all right?” Detective Atwood asked, apparently not at all surprised to see me. Maybe he’d been expecting me ever since he sent that note.
“Yes.” I hadn’t needed saving, but his interference had helped avoid my causing a scene. Nothing made people mind their own business faster than a blue cape.
“Want something?” He dropped back into his wooden seat at a small table set flush against the wall and pushed a menu toward me.
“Oh, um, sure.” I sat across from him and stared at his sandwich for a moment. It looked delicious. After a minute of trying, I finally managed to wave down a boy taking orders. I pointed to Detective Atwood’s sandwich then held up one finger. He bobbed his head and turned around.
“I’m glad you didn’t let me down, Poppy,” Detective Atwood said.
I flushed at the nickname. “By coming?”
“By blushing.” He smirked and took a bite of his sandwich, then cocked his head to the side, studying me. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I would see you again. But I’d hoped so. That’s why I let my friend know where to send you, if you came calling while I was out.”
“I had to come after hearing about the latest”—I leaned closer and lowered my voice—“murder.”
He peered at me over the rim of his cup for a long moment, then took a sip. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you heard about that, considering who your father is.”
“He’s not what I came here to talk about,” I said. “I’m here to talk about your note.” I was careful to keep my wording vague considering we were in a public setting. Being here would help me fit in since no one would expect to see me here, but it also increased our chances of potentially being overheard.
“Does that mean your friend knows something else about the first case?” His emphasis on the word proved he was still questioning me even while he kept his questions as vague as mine.
I shook my head. “I’m afraid not.”
“That’s a pity.”
My pulse quickened. If I didn’t have any information for him, our meeting might end before it even started. “Should my friend know something about it?”
He chewed slowly as if lost in thought. “There were similarities between the cases, and while two in a month is standard, having two in less than a week is...nearly unheard of.”
I leaned back a little in my chair as he confirmed my theory. “You think they’re connected.”
“If they are, then I really shouldn’t get you any more involved,” he said. “Especially if you don’t have any more information.”
I straightened my shoulders and met his clear gaze. “I’m the reason you knew about the case in the first place. Plus, I think we both know that I’m already involved.”
One eyebrow rose. “Meaning?”
I waited as the boy returned with my sandwich on a tray with a small serving of nuts and a bowl of soup, then I pulled out the scrap of paper. I held it against the side of my steaming soup bowl. After a few seconds, the words shimmered to life. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that the bracelet ended up in the fountain so close to my party, and I think you agree with me.”
He pressed his lips together and looked around. “That’s all the more reason not to let you help. It’s dangerous.”
With great effort, I kept myself from glaring at him. I was so sick of people trying to tell me what I could and couldn’t do all the time. I leaned across the table and lowered my voice. “You’re the one who mentioned my abilities.”
“It will take more than being insightful and having a good head on your shoulders for me to involve someone with no training in a case as dangerous as this.”
He had no idea I could Slip through time. But even as I bit back a sigh of relief, my frustration boiled. Things would be easier if he already knew the truth, since the choice to tell him would be out of my hands. If only he knew, he’d be begging for my help. “You must need some help if you’re turning to my friend for information.”
“I like to cover my bases,” he said evenly.
I could feel him, and my chances of helping, evaporating like the morning mist from the Steele.
“I could be useful to you.” Especially if I Slipped again. I twisted my fingers together in my lap under the table.
He leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table and minimizing the distance between us. “How exactly do you think you could help?”
“I have connections that could come in handy. And I’m good at reading people,” I said. “Growing up around the people I did, you have to be.”
He tilted his head to the side. “And what’s your read on me?”
“You take your work very seriously and you seem like someone who values control and having all the facts.” I studied his posture a bit more, especially the protective way he often sat or stood as if always ready to leap into action. “I’d say you have siblings, most likely you’re an older brother, and the way you meet my eye tells me you’re straightforward and comfortable with hard conversations.”
He let out a low whistle. “Not bad.”
“And you’re clearly highly motivated and dedicated to your job to have risen in the ranks as quickly as you did.”
His gaze dropped to the table as he suddenly became absorbed in the last bite of his sandwich.