The Wharf. Carol Ericson
huh?” He grinned, but his heavily lidded eyes looked more seductive than smiley.
“Very good.” She dropped the napkin from her still-warm face. “Now I will return to my regularly scheduled salad.”
“Just let me know if you want another...taste.”
She waved down the waiter. “More iced tea, please.”
She had to find some way to stay cool. Did all this sex appeal come naturally to Ryan Brody, or was he cranking up the charm for some ulterior motive? She’d already told him she planned to focus the book on proving his father’s innocence. He didn’t have to butter her up.
Her gaze dropped to his strong hands as he ripped a roll in two and smeared a pat of butter across one half. Although she wouldn’t mind if he buttered her up, down and sideways.
She’d never felt this way about a story resource before.
Holding up the roll, he asked, “Do you want the other half?”
“No, thanks.” She pushed her plate away, dabbed water droplets from the tablecloth with her napkin and repositioned her recorder on the table.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He polished off the rest of his meal, including the rest of her roll, and then perused the dessert menu. “Do you want to share a dessert?”
“I’m good.”
He ordered a coffee instead and leaned back in his chair as he stirred in a swirl of cream. “Fire away. Ask me anything you want about my father’s case. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll ask my older brothers.”
Kacie flipped open her notebook, which contained sheets of printed-out questions. She dived in.
“The Phone Book Killer case was unusual from the get-go, wasn’t it? After the first two victims, the killer started communicating with your father, one of the detectives on the case, claiming he was selecting his victims out of the phone book.”
“That’s right. Serial killers have been known to contact the police to brag and taunt, and the Phone Book Killer singled out my dad. Of course, that’s one of the aspects of the case that caused some doubt about my father. Why him?”
“Good question.” She drummed her fingers against the tablecloth. “Then he kidnapped your brother. Was that some kind of warning?”
“According to Sean, that’s what my father thought. It was the killer’s message that he could get to any member of my family.”
“But your brother wasn’t harmed, which became another oddity of the case.”
Ryan raised his shoulders and let them drop. “People say Joey Brody staged the kidnapping to divert suspicion from himself.”
“Then the evidence from your father started to pile up—missing days from work, plaster found in the trunk of his car, the same type of plaster used in casts, which the Phone Book Killer was wearing to disarm his victims.”
“Too pat. Too easy.” He massaged the back of his neck. “In hindsight, it smells like a setup.”
As she reeled off the elements of the case against Joey Brody, Ryan had an answer for every one of them. He had emphasized that his older brothers believed without a doubt in their father’s innocence, and Ryan’s hot defense of Joey Brody put him firmly in that camp.
Of course they were all in that camp. Admitting your father had blood on his hands had to be hard.
After another hour of question and answer, where they saw the restaurant clear out and received several visits from their waiter with more coffee and iced tea in hand, Kacie clicked off the recorder.
“I really appreciate your openness. It can’t be easy. Y-your dad sounds like he was a great cop.”
And Daniel Walker had been a great football player.
He shrugged. “Life is full of trials and tribulations. How about you? You look like you’ve had it pretty easy—smart, attractive, successful.”
Straightening her shoulders, she folded her hands on top of the notebook. “I’ve been lucky. I have a wonderful family. Great parents, two older sisters.”
“I hope you appreciate that.”
Anxious to hide the emotion that had overcome her, she swiped her recorder from the table and ducked down to stuff it into her bag. “Oh, I do, but you’re right.” She popped back up with her phone and wallet in hand. “We all have our...disappointments in life.”
A loud voice carried across the mostly empty restaurant. “Kacie Manning, right?”
She jerked her head up and zeroed in on a pudgy man with a black goatee making his way toward their table. “Do I know you?”
He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ray Lopez. I’m a reporter with a local TV show.”
Great. That’s all I need.
“Good to meet you, Ray.” She gestured toward Ryan. “This is Ryan Brody. Chief Brody.”
“Oh, hey. No introductions necessary. I know who Chief Brody is. I’m like this—” he held up two fingers pressed together “—with Sean and Eric. Eric’s fiancée, Christina, and I go way back.”
Ryan shook Lopez’s hand, sizing him up with one glance. “Sure, I know who you are.”
Kacie’s gaze bounced from Lopez to Ryan. Sounded as if Ryan wished he didn’t know Lopez.
“I’m a big fan of yours, Kacie. Is it true you’re doing a book on Joey Brody?”
“You know, I’d rather not discuss that.” She swirled the ice in her water glass and took a sip.
“Say no more.” Lopez raised his hands. “It’s just that I’ve been trying to get exclusives for years with the Brodys. Guess I’m the wrong sex or something.”
Ryan tossed his napkin onto the table. “Excuse me?”
“Just a little joke, Brody. I’d rather work with Kacie Manning than with me, too.” He winked and sauntered back to the hostess stand.
“What a jerk.” Kacie rolled her eyes.
“He’s been kind of a local fixture here the past few years.”
“Does he really know your brothers?”
“Yeah, but Sean just tolerates him and Eric can’t stand him.” Ryan made a move for the check, which had been perched on the edge of their table for an hour. “Let me get this.”
She beat him to it, snatching it up and pressing it to her chest. “Tax write-off, remember?”
As she snapped her plastic down on the tray, Ryan tapped her phone on the table. “You have a couple of messages.”
“I heard them come through earlier.” She picked up the phone. “Didn’t want to disturb our flow.”
“Yeah, we do have a flow, don’t we?”
The hostess with the mostest had extricated herself from Lopez, who’d since left the restaurant. She parked herself next to Ryan’s chair, batting her fake eyelashes. “Is there anything else we can do for you today?”
“No, thanks. Sorry we took up this table all afternoon.”
“No problem.” She waved her perfectly manicured nails. “I could see you were hard at work over here. If you like to play as hard as you work, a friend of mine is having a party tonight at a private club. I could get you in as my...guest.”
Kacie clenched her teeth as she tapped her phone to view her messages. He could do whatever he wanted while he was here, including partying with pretty people, as long as he made himself available to her for their interviews and a few field trips.
But