“I can’t.” She shook her head. “I can’t.”
Her phone pinged and she jumped, fumbled the phone like a hot potato, and managed to bounce it toward Naomi, who caught it.
“Jumpy?” Naomi asked.
“Just…cancel. Tell him I came down with the flu. Or smallpox. Something contagious. But not Ebola, that’s too contagious.”
Naomi held the screen toward her.
Need your address.
Are you allergic to anything?
“Serial killers don’t ask if you’re allergic to anything,” Naomi said.
“Unless they want to make sure the drug they slip you doesn’t kill you before they can.”
“Stop watching Dateline.” Naomi glanced at the students and said in a low voice, “Melanie thinks the world of him, and if anyone should be wary of men, it’s her. Kids are good judges of character. You are doing this.”
Abby had to concede her point about Melanie. “Fine. But if he kills me, I’m haunting you until you die.”
“Does anyone know what’s wrong with Tink?”
Tinker glanced across the room to the bar where Harrison and Angie sat. From an outsider’s perspective, they looked like any other couple on a date, but their vantage point gave them a clear view of the front entrance of the restaurant and the hall to the restrooms.
Tink sat at a table for one on the far side, where he had a clear view of the dining room and the kitchen entrance.
“He looks fine. Why do you think something’s wrong with him?” Nash asked. He and Addison were on the other side of the restaurant.
Their earpiece communications link let them talk to each other without making it obvious.
“He keeps smiling,” Harrison said.
“So?” Addison asked.
“So, it’s not his usual shit-eating smirk. It’s an actual, honest to god, smile,” Harrison said.
Angela gasped. “Did you ask her out?”
“Ask who out?” Nash asked.
“Y’all can stop talking about me like I’m not here anytime now,” Tink said.
“Oh my god! You did!” Angela squealed in his ear, and he grimaced. From across the room, she looked incredibly happy.
“While I’m enjoying the potential deep dive into Tink’s dating life, target number one walked in,” Paige said. She and Graham were sitting outside the restaurant since they’d met their target previously.
“Angie, can you adjust camera three down slightly?” Graham asked.
Angie fiddled with her phone on top of the bar. “Good?”
“Yup.”
Tinker stared over the top of the menu and watched their target follow the maître d’ through the dining room to a table close to his own.
“Remember, he has to pass the packet before we can grab him,” Paige instructed. “Our client wants hard proof and wants this done quietly.”
“I still don’t understand why he didn’t go to the police,” Nash said.
