“Dave. Dave Paulson. He just left for the day. He’ll be back in the morning.”

“Does he have a cell number?” Spencer asked.

“Unless the place is on fire, he won’t respond to messages. He’ll be in by seven tomorrow morning. What’s this about?” the waitress asked. “That woman in trouble?”

“She was murdered two days ago,” Spencer said. “We’re retracing her steps.”

“Murdered?” Her lips thinned into a grim line. “How?”

“I can’t discuss it. Call your manager and leave him a message. Tell him the place is on fire if that’s what it takes for a return call.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“And if you run across anyone who might have seen Emma Powers Wednesday, let me know.” He handed her his card. “I’ll want to talk to them.”

The waitress glanced at the card. “Yeah, sure.” A bell rang at the cook’s station behind the counter. “I’ve got to go.”

“Sure.”

Spencer moved the silverware, brushing the tips of Jordan’s fingers. “What do you think?”

She nodded her thanks and carefully opened the utensils. “In all my years, I’ve had one or two cases almost solve themselves. The rest came down to assembling bits of information. That’s the way this one is going.”

“What about Rawlings?” he asked. “Did he say or do anything that caught your attention?”

“Not really. He always gave me a discount on the takeout. Last couple of meals from him were free. Did you check to see if he had a police record?”

“He was arrested twenty years ago for assaulting his girlfriend. In the police file it mentioned that his attorney was Harold Sunday.”

“All roads keep leading back to Mr. Sunday.”

“Rawlings never served time and was ordered into counseling by the judge. Tammy’s doctor recommended the group meetings. Stands to reason they met.”

“Rawlings said he didn’t know Laura.”

“How well does Avery know Rawlings?”

Her gaze lingered in the direction of his voice. “They knew each other via the food bank.”

“Rawlings has a connection to all the women.”

“Just like Sunday.”

“Looks like it.”

She reached for her grilled-chicken sandwich. “I’m worried about Avery. I don’t think she appreciates the danger. She was in Thompson’s Market today. She knows Rawlings. She knew Walker.”

He cleared his throat. “That’s why I called Detective Santiago. Asked him to bump into her from time to time.”

Jordan’s gaze met his. “Did you?”

“I might have overstepped.” But he would not apologize.

“I could kiss you.”

The suggestion was a shot to his loins. He cleared his throat.

She smiled. “Are you blushing, Ranger Spencer?”

“I am not.”

“Then I’ll have to try harder.”

Casey heard footsteps in the hallway and drew back against the wall behind her. She hated these visits. They were tests of her strength.