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Kris frowned. Why was Jamaica watching her? Then again—Kris let her gaze wander over the empty shop—what else did Jamaica have to do?
“I was wondering how the case was progressing.”
True enough, although that wasn’t why Kris had gone looking for him.
“He find de man who be askin’ all over for you?”
“No.” Since she hadn’t told him about it, it would be a little hard for Alan Mac to find the guy.
Could the mystery man have been the one who pushed her off the ledge? Sure. Although his question—was she happy?—made her wonder why, if he cared about her happiness, he would then try to kill her. Of course his question was creepy, and so was he. For all she knew, he’d been wandering around other places, asking if other women were happy.
Then killing them.
She really did need to tell Alan Mac about her strange stalker. And wasn’t that the most redundant description ever?
“So de case is not progressing?”
Jamaica’s voice brought Kris back to the coffee shop, and for an in
stant she wondered why Jamaica would automatically assume that the case Kris was asking about was the happy-man freak and not the missing and murdered women.
Then she remembered. Alan Mac was trying to keep the whole dead-people thing on the down low. Kris wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but then again, she wasn’t a cop. She had a feeling that if women continued to disappear and a few more of them washed up around the loch, he wasn’t going to be able to keep anything quiet anymore.
“No progress,” Kris said. “I think that guy, whoever he was, is gone.”
Jamaica’s expressive brows shot downward. “Not yet he isn’t.”
Kris froze with the go-cup a mere breath from her seeking lips; then she lowered it. “Why would you say that?”
“I saw him walkin’ down de street bright and early dis morning.”
Kris glanced outside. “That’s the first time you’ve seen him since he asked about me?”
“Yes. Although he could have come in and asked someone else. Or asked in any other shop or restaurant in Drumnadrochit. By now, I’m sure he found someone to tell him exactly where you be livin’.”
Kris winced. She was sure he had, too.
“Maybe you should stay wid me,” Jamaica murmured.
Kris actually considered it, which showed how spooked she was. Sure, she liked Jamaica. But the quickest way to ruin a friendship—especially one so new—was to take advantage.
“Thanks. But I’ll be okay.”
“You sure?”
She wasn’t. Not really. But if she took Jamaica up on her offer of an extra room or maybe just an extra bed, even the couch, there’d be no more getting naked with Liam. Was the sex worth risking her life for?
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
Hell.
“I’m sure,” she said.
Jamaica pursed her lips and held Kris’s gaze for several beats. She must have seen something there that convinced her Kris was all right, because she nodded once and let it go.
