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He was quite the button-pusher, too.
“Maybe I’ll give you the whole story another time. If you’re right about this beer, I’ll be back.”
“Hold up.” Pete pulled out a shot glass and poured a dark beer into it from the tap; put it in front of her. “Not porter—a good stout from a microbrewery in Bellingham.”
She smelled it. Drank it. Heaven.
Kara smiled. “I’ll definitely be back.”
She carried the pitcher in one hand, had the three cold pints stacked in the other along with the club soda, and walked to the table.
She put everything down, and poured beer for her and Jim.
“Three mugs?” Jim questioned.
“Matt will be here, Catherine won’t, Ryder doesn’t drink.”
Ryder gave her a half smile.
“Catherine told you that?” Jim said.
Sometimes, though a brilliant forensic dude, Jim was clueless.
“No,” Kara said, then drained half her beer. Yes, it was good. Not as good as the stout Pete let her sample, but good.
“I’m starving,” she said. “You know what you want?”
“You haven’t even looked at the menu.”
“Fish and chips. House specialty. I saw someone eating at lunch and I’ve wanted it ever since.” She motioned for the waitress.
“Shouldn’t we wait for Matt?” Ryder asked.
Catherine was probably busy giving him an earful about her. “Go ahead and wait. I’m not. I had three energy bars for lunch. I need real food.”
“Hi!” the waitress said with a genuine smile. “I’m Rena. What can I get for y’all?”
Kara ordered, and so did Ryder and Jim. They chatted for a while—Jim, mostly, talking about his three grandchildren and the apartment his daughter and son-in-law were building for him in his own basement.
She liked Jim a lot. He had the Columbo cop vibe but was very much into his family. She wondered what it would have been like to have a dad like Jim Esteban. Better than her dad, that was for sure.
Matt came in just as their food came out.
“You couldn’t wait?” he asked.
Kara ate a fry. It was hot, but so good. She sprinkled malt vinegar over everything. “Ryder, I told you we should have waited.” She wrinkled her nose at the analyst, who just shook his head at her.
“I wasn’t serious.” Matt poured the rest of the pitcher into his mug.
“Neither was I,” she said and ate another fry, watching Matt without letting on that she was watching him.
He didn’t look at her. Preoccupied. Stared at his beer as if trying to think of what to say. She could almost hear his internal debate.
Should I tell Kara what Catherine said? Ignore it? Address it one-on-one or in a staff meeting? What if Catherine is right?
She knew him, even after only three months. Catherine had definitely said something to him about her, and he was thinking it over.
Dammit. Catherine and Matt had a history. Kara didn’t think that they had been involved romantically—she didn’t get that sex vibe from them—but they had clearly been friends for a long time. Back when they were working the Triple Killer investigation, Ryder had told her that Matt and Catherine had gone through Quantico together. And Matt was friends with her husband and godfather to their daughter. That made them tight.
