I held up my hands. “Maybe money for gas … wear and tear on the car. Other than that, I’m fine. How about giving some money to the baby instead?”

“I can’t do that unless I have medical evidence that the child is David’s offspring. Otherwise I could be sued later on. But there are … things I could arrange. Why don’t you have the mother of this child hire a lawyer? It would be easier if I spoke legalese with him … or her.”

“All right. I will.” I held out my hand. “Thank you.”

He waited a moment, then shook it. “I apologize for being rude, Officer Decker. I’m not a big fan of the police.”

“Neither is my boyfriend.”

“The man you’re with is your boyfriend?”

I nodded.

“I thought he might be your partner.”

“Not in this getup.” I smiled. “Once he was DWB—driving while black—and it put him in the wrong place at the wrong time. He spent a night in jail because of a mix-up in identity with a rapist. After hearing the story and the circumstances, I told him I would have done exactly what the cops did.” I shrugged. “He didn’t want to hear it.”

“I’m sure I could agree with him, having had a similar experience.” Paxton pointed to the dining room. “After you.”

We went back to our respective tables. By the time I sat back down, the waiter had brought our Caesar salads. “Sorry it took so long.”

“Everything all right?” Koby asked me.

“Actually, yes, everything is very all right.” Even if I didn’t find David, at least his baby might be provided for. Certainly, Louise Sanders could use some monetary help. Things were tough for her. If Paxton came through, then it was well worth his initial snubs.

I picked up my fork. “Wow, this looks good. I’m starved.” I took several bites. “Delicious!”

Koby stabbed a crouton and chewed it slowly, a half smile on his lips. “I love it when women eat. It’s very sensual.”

“You’d get lots of female fans with that statement.” I laughed. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re for real or is it, you know, like the Ethiopian restaurant. You just have all these great lines and angles to get into women’s pants.”

“It’s only your pants, my love, and I think I don’t need a line or an angle. You seem always very willing.”

A warm flush crawled over my body. “Will you please eat? You’re making me nervous, staring at me like that.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what you’re thinking.”

“What are you thinking?”

“That you look very handsome.”

His smile turned white and luminous. “Thank you.”

I stole a glance at his face. “That you look very good.”

“Thank you again.” His eyes had turned hot and hungry. “You know, Cynthia, we could ask the waiter to pack our main dishes.”

I put down my fork. “Yaakov, I’d really like to make it through a meal.”

“Certainly.” He sipped his beer, licking foam off his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. He raised his eyebrows. “Would you like another drink?”