Len drove through town like she hadn’t been in a car in years. I held tight to the handle of the door as she took a corner quickly. I’d participated in car chases, following criminals, that felt less dangerous.

“Next time, I drive,” I said, swallowing hard.

“It’s not that bad,” she insisted.

“You almost just hit that curb,” I pointed out.

“Well, I don’t drive often. I can walk everywhere in Briarport. And Jake never-” She stopped herself. “I’m just rusty, that’s it.”

“Rusty,” I agreed, my stomach turning with both nausea and guilt.

We made it back to her apartment in minutes and I followed her inside and upstairs. She kept glancing around, like someone might be following us.

It wasn’t a possibility I dismissed. I hadn’t seen anyone tailing us, and nothing outside told me anyone was watching the building, but I kept my guard up.

We made it inside her apartment without running into Mallory. I wished Len would stop worrying so much about what her friend wanted and more about her safety.

She hurried to the bedroom, and I heard meows of morning greetings. I found my way to her fridge and opened it, trying to find something I could put together for her.

There were no eggs, eliminating my first idea on what to make. Between her freezer and fridge, I found some berries, which I washed and put into a bowl, and some frozen waffles, which I toasted and added butter to. It was nothing gourmet, but it would do.

She came back out to find the small array of food and nodded a thanks to me. “Is there caffeine?” she asked.

Shit, I’d forgotten the coffee.

“I can make some now,” I offered.

“Don’t bother. It would just make me late,” she said, her voice sounding a bit panicked.

I really messed up. 

I had to fix this. “I’ll grab your coffee from the café across the street from the museum. You just focus on getting there on time,” I assured her.

What was I doing? I had things I needed to do for the case. I was operating on borrowed time; the FBI could end things in seconds.

“Fine,” she said.

I walked with her in silence. She barely acknowledged me as we parted ways, and I headed for the café across the street while she made her way inside the museum.

I ordered two lattes, hoping she had similar taste when it came to caffeine.

Why did the idea of Lenore enjoying the same drink make my heart speed up a little?

The drinks were ready in no time, and I found straws, which I grabbed for both of us. I carried them across the street and watched as tourists meandered into the museum. It had only been open minutes, and it was already busy.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.