He laughed. “C’mon, there’s no one you like? No up-and-coming financial whiz or tech guy you see on the elevator every day? Maybe an old boyfriend you’d like to have back?”
“Ugh. No.” She crossed her arms and stared out the window.
He’d obviously hit a sore spot. Maybe she was just getting over a bad breakup too. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
Dawn turned back to him. “I’m sorry to snap at you.” She hesitated. “I used to hang out with this guy who was in a gang. It wasn’t a healthy relationship, but I didn’t really have a role model for what one of those might look like. He gave me a hard time when I started turning my life around. I bumped into him the other night. Or rather he was waiting for me. Told me he wanted to get back together—or something. Guys in gangs don’t exactly date.”
Luca was quiet for a moment. “Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Do you want to get back together with him?”
“Hell no. I never did have deep feelings for him. I’m glad I’m not with him anymore. And the gang… Holy shit. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I just liked feeling like I belonged—somewhere.”
He smiled at her. “I’m glad you’re not dating a guy in a gang.”
A few minutes later, Luca pulled up front of the old colonial duplex she’d directed him to.
He got out of the car and escorted her up the steps. “Hey, would you be interested in going out sometime?”
He liked Dawn. She was interesting and easy to talk to. Maybe they could become friends. Hell, he could use a good friend. It was hard to share stuff with his family. They meant well, but sometimes he just wanted someone to listen and not lecture.
“You mean to discuss the case?”
“No, I mean to discuss the merits of pepperoni versus Italian sausage pizza.”
She laughed. A small dimple appeared in her right cheek. And it didn’t hurt that she was really cute.
“Okay, but I draw the line at anchovies.”
“Don’t tell my mother, but I consider anchovies on pizza an abomination. I always take them off. You’re a woman after my own heart.”
* * *
“Whew!”
Dawn leaned against the inside of her door. She placed her hand over her racing heart.
“Dawnie, is that you?” Her grandmother’s voice floated down the stairs.
“Yes, Gram, it’s me. I’ll be right there.”
Dawn hung up her jacket and purse, then jogged up the stairs to her grandmother’s bedroom. “Hi, Gram.” She gave her grandmother a kiss on the check. The older woman was in her rocking chair, knitting woolen mittens. She was always knitting for the homeless and usually made a few dozen scarves and mittens every fall and winter and donated them to the local shelter. If that alone could change your karma, Annette should have five gold stars by now or whatever system Karma Cleaners used. She’d have to ask Lynda.
“Honey, why are you home from work? Are you okay?”
Dawn sat on the edge of her grandmother’s bed. “Yes, just feeling a bit dizzy, so I came home early.”
Annette gave her one of her shrewd I ain’t buyin’ what ye’re sellin’ looks. “What’s this really about?”
“I’m helping a guy look for a missing girl.” Dawn tapped her phone, searching for a news article. She found it and handed her phone to her grandma.
“Oh no,” Annette said with a shake of her head. “What a terrible tragedy. But who is this guy you’re helping? The father?”
“No, he’s a cop who knows the family.”
Annette’s eyebrows shot up at that.
