“Who apparently had no role in the larger intrigue—other than supplying your victim with joints.”

“We’ll see. There’s a search warrant in the works for his office, his apartment, and his computers that will be implemented bright and early Thursday morning, now that you have a pickup date.” She twisted her wrist to display the face of her watch. “I have to bring my handler up to speed and get to my next class. Do you think Fischer will stay mum about your identity?”

“I laid out what would happen if he didn’t. I think we’re safe.”

“Let’s hope you’re right.” She stood. “Are your people going to do anything with the crew from Mexico that delivers tomorrow?”

“Follow them. Once we get the people we’re after in St. Louis, we’ll grab them and the truck. But they’re delivery guys, not key players. The cartel won’t be happy about the loss of merchandise, but it won’t bankrupt them, sad to say. Or affect their leadership.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks. Be careful until this wraps.”

“My work here is done—but I’m hoping one of the people you pull in during your sweep will either know what happened to Stephanie and her boyfriend or end up being the perpetrator.”

“If that happens, both of our cases will conclude at the same time. Wednesday could be a big day on the personal and professional front.”

He didn’t have to spell out what he meant.

She’d told him she’d give him an answer by Wednesday about whether or not he should seek a job in St. Louis.

But Wednesday was approaching much too fast.

“Given how hectic life will be for the duration, it may be wise to move the personal deadline to Thursday.”

“Stalling?”

“Being practical. We won’t have an opportunity to talk on Wednesday.”

“I’ll extend the deadline if you agree to have dinner with me Thursday night to give me your answer.”

“What if my answer is no?”

“Then I doubt I’ll be in the mood to eat much. But I hope it won’t be. Because I can promise you this—if anyone walks away this go-round, it will be you.”

It was hard to doubt his sincerity.

But were her emotions clouding her judgment?

Hard to say.

She backed toward the door. Fumbled for the knob. “I’ll pencil you in for Thursday.” She turned and fled.

Her dilemma, however, followed her down the hall.

Zeke wasn’t asking for a commitment—just a chance to prove he had staying power.

The request was reasonable.

Yet there was real danger.

For as Cate searched for an empty classroom to call her handler, she admitted the truth.