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She gaped at him. “You knew it was him?”
“I suspected.”
“All along?”
“Since the minute you told me about it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I hadn’t caught him at it. I tried.”
“The camouflage and war paint night.”
“I made no secret of trying to catch him.”
“No, but you kept secret who you suspected him to be. Another of your lies by omission.”
He didn’t blame her for being pissed. If the situation were reversed, he would be, too. “When did you find out?”
“Today.”
“Here you go.” Angie seemed pleased with herself for having startled them. Neither had noticed her approaching. “Filet for the lady. T-bone for Ledge.” She set two sizzling platters on the table. Addressing Arden, she said, “I know how Ledge likes his. Want to cut into yours to see if it’s cooked okay?”
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
Angie asked if they needed anything else, and when Ledge told her no, she left them. He picked up his knife and fork, and motioned for Arden to do the same.
“I’m too angry to eat.”
“Force yourself.” He cut a piece of steak, speared it, pushed it into his mouth.
“Why?”
“For appearance’s sake.”
“Don’t you want to know—”
“Yes. But not now. Not here.”
He looked around. No one seemed to be paying Arden and him special attention, but Rusty had far-reaching tentacles.
His steak was as good as usual, but he ate methodically, fueling himself without really tasting the food. He was more interested in the woman across from him, who took dainty bites of her dainty filet. She looked distraught, bewildered, anxious, and angry, all at the same time.
He wanted to tell her that everything was going to
be all right. But he didn’t know that everything was. Besides, what a fucking hypocrite that would make him.
They declined dessert and coffee. Rather than hassle with a credit card, he left cash on the table. Angie looked disappointed to see them go.
As they headed back toward Penton, he watched to see if anyone followed them from the area of the restaurant. No one did.
“Okay. Tell me,” he said. “How did you learn it was Rusty?”
“I’d gotten the reports and was leaving the courthouse. He pulled up behind me on the parking lot. I recognized the sound of his car’s engine.” She described the scene and recounted their conversation. “To tell it, it sounds perfectly harmless. But it didn’t feel that way. My skin was crawling.”
“With good reason. That detective didn’t point you out to him. He’s had you in his sights since you moved back.”
“But why?”
