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She blinked at him. Really? The last thing she expected was a self-deprecating apology.
“I’ve probably been preoccupied with getting back in shape.”
Yes. And doing a fine job of it.
Then he smiled, and wow, her world broke right open. No, no, she refused to be this naive again. She wasn’t a cop’s daughter without knowing when she was being played.
Rembrandt Stone had practically ignored her for an entire month...
“What do you want?” She narrowed an eye.
He frowned, but his smile still sat there. “Nothing, just…”
“What are you doing here?”
The voice stilled her, and she turned as—of course—her father, Inspector Danny Mulligan strode across the parking lot. He wore a dark suit, dress shoes and looked every inch the seasoned investigator from the downtown district.
And, his words clearly weren’t for Eve, given the glare he shot Stone’s direction.
Rembrandt’s mouth opened a second before he closed it and held out his hand.
Her father frowned, but took it. “Stone. I haven’t seen you since you…since the bombings. How are you?”
“Back in play.” Rembrandt gestured to the yellow-taped crime scene. “Just trying to work the scene before the evidence trail grows cold.”
“And if it were on your watch, then maybe that would be a good idea, but your shift doesn’t start until, hmm...” He looked at his watch.
Oh, brother. But her father had it out for Rembrandt ever since he wrote the tell-all memoir about his rookie year on the force. The book had landed him on the NYT bestseller list—and on Danny’s blacklist.
Cops don’t write about their lives, apparently.
But she’d read Rembrandt’s book cover to cover, even before she met him. Might have harbored the smallest crush on him—oh, who was she kidding? She’d practically jumped into Rembrandt Stone’s arms the moment he looked her way.
Yeah, that wasn’t happening again. Ever.
“I just happened to be here,” Rembrandt said, and she noticed his voice was easy, as if trying not to get tangled up with Inspector Mulligan’s ire.
“Just happened—”
“Dad,” Eve said, but he put up his hand.
“Another hunch?”
Rembrandt frowned, glanced at Eve. “No. Just hungry.” He nodded to the diner.
Her father’s mouth pinched as he looked at Eve. “Share what you have with our CSI.” His gaze went back to Rembrandt. “I’ll take it from here.”
Rembrandt’s jaw tightened. “I got this, Danny. And, I’ll tell the parents. I was the one who performed CPR on her.”
Her father had turned away, and his back stiffened, but he glanced at Rembrandt and gave a brisk nod before he walked away.
“He doesn’t like me,” Rembrandt said, his voice sotto.
“He…just…doesn’t know you,” Eve said.
He sighed. “Yeah.”
“So, you think she got out here, at the sidewalk?” Eve had walked over to the edge of the parking lot. “Did anyone from the diner see anything?”
