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Cassie bit back a laugh. “A regular feeling. I think.”
“Regular feelings I can deal with.” Harris swerved to the right at a crosswalk and jogged across it, just as the timer ran out. “Come on. Keep up.”
Cassie didn’t need to be told twice. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder again. Harris clearly had a plan, and Cassie didn’t want to mess it up. But she had a constant tingle against the back of her neck. Turning around would scratch the itch, but it’d make the threat much more real.
Harris took a left when they got to the other side of the street and then turned right, putting even more distance between them and the car. Cassie knew she was doing it for a reason. But it felt like they were cutting themselves off from their only means of escape.
Lost in thought, Cassie almost crashed into Harris when she stopped in front of a building, contemplating whether it was their salvation. After a moment, she gestured Cassie after her. “Come on. Let’s go inside.”
Cassie looked at the marquee above her head. It was for a Mediterranean restaurant called Zesty. The outside looked normal. Like most of the other buildings on the block, it showed its age but had a certain classic charm.
As soon as Harris opened the door, Cassie could smell the herbs in the air. Despite having had breakfast only an hour or two ago, it made her mouth water.
“We’re getting lunch?” Cassie whispered. “Now? Really?”
Harris ignored her. A woman wearing a waist apron walked up to them with a huge smile on her face. Her skin was a beautiful golden brown, and she had thick eyebrows above mesmerizing hazel eyes. Cassie had to blink a few times to make sure she was real. That was someone who should’ve been on movie screens, not stuck working in a restaurant for measly tips.
“Two today?” the woman asked.
“Three, actually. We’re meeting a friend.” Harris leaned around the woman and pointed somewhere on the other side of the dining room. It was packed, and even from where Cassie stood, she couldn’t figure out who the detective was pointing at. “There she is. Mind if we seat ourselves?”
“Not at all.” The waitress stepped to the side. “Go right ahead.”
“Thank you.” Harris gave the other woman a wink.
When the two of them were out of earshot, Cassie tapped the detective on the shoulder. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to lie low in here?” she asked. “What if he waits for us outside?”
Harris still had a giant grin on her face. “Trust the process.”
Cassie didn’t know what that meant, but she’d spent enough time with Harris to know when the woman had an ace up her sleeve. And sure enough, by the time they crossed the busy dining room—dodging servers and making sure to not knock over anyone’s drinks—Harris had changed directions, pointing them toward the kitchen’s swinging doors.
With no hesitation, the detective pushed through the doors, and Cassie stumbled in after her. While the dining room had been dark and cozy, the kitchen was a riot of bright light and noise. Not only were there men and women shouting at each other in a variety of languages, but the sizzling pans and buzzing
of timers made the entire place impossible to digest. Cassie felt her gaze bouncing between one station and the next.
“Hey!” someone shouted. “You can’t be in here.”
Harris held up her hands. “Sorry, sorry. Just trying to get out the back.”
The man stepped up to them. He wore a chef’s uniform and hat. His apron was messy, but his hands were clean. And one of them was holding a butcher’s knife. “You can’t be in here. Go back out.”
“Please,” Harris begged. There was a raw emotion to her voice that Cassie had never heard before. “A guy’s been following us for, like, three blocks. We’re really scared.”
The man looked between the two women. Cassie had to guess he was in his fifties. Maybe he had a couple of daughters. He grunted. “What kind of man?” he asked.
“We don’t know him,” Harris said. She wrung her hands, and the man didn’t miss the movement. “He just kept saying stuff to us. Rude stuff. It scared us. We were hoping to go out the back. Is there an alley back there?”
The man nodded. “Yeah, leads to the next street.”
Harris’s eyes lit up, and Cassie felt hope blossom in her chest. “That’s all we need,” the detective said. “Please, we won’t cause any trouble. We just want to get to the next street over so we can circle back to our car. We didn’t want him seeing where we parked and getting our license plate.”
The funny part was, most of that wasn’t a lie.
The chef nodded his head and gestured for them to follow him. A few of the cooks gave them a passing glance, but they mostly tried to keep up with their orders. From the looks of it, the food was as good as it smelled.
When they reached the back door, the man pushed it open for them and checked both ways. It must’ve been clear because he moved to the side and let them back outside. “Go that way,” he said, pointing to the right. “Then cross the street again and go another block. Then circle back to your car. Safer that way.”
“Thank you, sir,” Harris said, stepping outside.
