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“Let me call you right back,” Harry said.
Holly hung up the phone. “Harry has a cold; home in bed. He’s going to call back.”
Three minutes later, the phone rang. “It’s Harry. Lauderdale PD didn’t get Trini; he’s at large.”
“I’ll call my department,” she said. “You call the state police and have them look for him on I-95 South. My guess is he’s headed toward home. And I’d stake out that bar Tricky’s, too.”
“I’ll take care of that. Let’s talk tomorrow.” Harry hung up.
Holly called her department and gave Trini’s description to the duty officer, with instructions to radio it to all cars.
“Pizza’s hot, I think,” Grant said, pulling it from the oven and putting it on a platter.
They sat down to eat.
“Who did you tell your cops I am?”
“A neighbor,” she said. “Your cover is still intact. You ready to tell me what you’re working on yet?”
“No can do; nothing has changed in that regard.”
“Have some more wine,” Holly said, pouring him some. “Then we’ll talk about it.”
“Wine will not loosen my tongue.”
“In vino veritas,” she said.
“Not yet. You’re exciting to know,” he said.
“Thanks; you’re pretty dull.”
“What do you mean, dull?”
“The most interesting thing about a person is often his work,” she said. “And I don’t know anything about yours.”
“I’ve regaled you with stories from my undercover past,” he said. “Isn’t that enough?”
“And I’ve given you my body; doesn’t that count for something?”
“It counts for a very great deal,” Grant said. “In fact, once or twice, when you were giving it especially well, I nearly blurted out everything. You want to try again?”
“I’m eating pizza,” she said. “It’s hard to give your body and eat pizza at the same time.”
“Later?”
“We’ll see.”
“Listen, when we’ve eaten, I want you to pack a bag and come home with me.”
“Why?”
“If it was Trini out there, I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes back.”
“You have a point,” she said, kissing him and leaving tomato sauce on his mouth.
“He’s not going to stop trying, you know. He has a reputation for persistence.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.”
