“What can I do for you, Chief Davenport?” she asked, keeping her voice low for privacy.
“There are a few more questions I’d like to ask you,” he replied. “Do you have any free time after work this afternoon? Maybe we could talk over dinner.”
Her pulse jumped. Dinner? Was he asking for an interview, or a date? She didn’t know what made her more nervous.
“I’m afraid I can’t meet you for dinner this evening,” she said, keeping her tone light. “I have a meeting right after work. We’ll be having finger sandwiches there.”
“Maybe we could get together after your meeting. For coffee and dessert? You could answer my questions then.”
Emily chewed her lower lip as she thought about it for a moment. And then she nodded. Might as well get this behind her. The sooner this case was cleared up, the sooner she would be free. “All right. Where?”
“Er—” He hesitated a moment, then said, “There’s a sandwich and pie place just down the street from the police department. On Maple?”
“Yes, I know it.” It wouldn’t have been her first choice, but they were meeting to talk, not to eat, she reminded herself.
“What time can you be there?”
“Eight-thirty?”
“Fine. I’ll see you then.”
It wasn’t a date, Emily reminded herself as she hung up the phone. Just an informal interview. So there was absolutely no reason for her to be looking forward to it with such anticipation.
WADE AND EMILY pulled up to the sandwich shop at almost the same moment. Climbing out of his Jeep, Wade nodded in greeting when Emily slipped out of her car.
“Evening, Ms. McBride,” he said, trying to mask the full extent of his pleasure at seeing her again. Even after a day of work and her dub meeting, she looked fresh and pretty in a royal blue pantsuit with a crisp white collar.
Though she looked as though she should be dining at an elegant restaurant rather than this second-rate sandwich shop, he thought, looking uncomfortably at the rather shabby facade. Maybe this place hadn’t been such a great choice.
“Good evening, Chief Davenport.” She waited for him to the join her at the entrance.
Wade reached around her to open the door, and caught a whiff of the faint floral scent he already associated with her. “How was your meeting?” he asked as they entered the restaurant together.
“Just routine.” She looked around the empty dining room, and Wade followed her glance. The tables were clean, though the floor could have used some work. A television set, bolted high on the wall in the back corner of the room, was still turned on, though no one was there to watch.
“I wonder if they’re about to close,” Emily murmured, indicating the empty tables.
Wade moved toward the order counter, which was unoccupied. The cash register sat at one end, apparently unguarded. Security was obviously not a priority for this business, he thought with a slight frown of disapproval. “Hello?”
In response to Wade’s call, a skinny adolescent boy with shaggy, oily hair and an apparently permanent scowl wandered out from the kitchen. He stepped behind the order counter. “What’ll y’all have?”
“We weren’t sure you were still open,” Wade said.
The teenager turned and yelled into the back. “What time are we closing tonight?”
“Nine o’clock. Same as every weeknight,” an exasperated voice hollered back.
Wade glanced at Emily, noting that she was fighting a smile. “That should give us time for a quick bite. What would you like?”
She glanced at the menu displayed above the boy’s head. “Pecan pie and coffee sounds good to me.”
The boy scratched his chin, then turned again toward the door to the kitchen. “Hey, June? We got any coffee?” he bellowed.
“Billy Ray, you know the coffeemaker’s been broken for a week,” the unseen woman in the kitchen shouted irritably.
Billy Ray swiveled back to look glumly at Emily. “Ain’t got no coffee.”
Emily cleared her throat. “Then I’ll just have an iced tea.”