Rick put the phone on the counter, then picked it up and opened the browser again. He found the management company attached to the tour, then the production credit page with names and a base city listed for the team. He copied the information into his notes then sat back and looked at what he’d collected.
It wasn’t illegal, what he was doing. Everything was information anyone could find if they cared enough to look. That was the point. Everything was public, just sitting there waiting.
Rick could stop. He could shut the phone off, go to the gym again, take Allen out, and pretend Cass didn’t exist. Instead, he went to the bedroom and opened the drawer. The watch case was still there, wrapped and shoved to the back. He closed the drawer again, but the reminder landed anyway.
He’d crossed a line once when he’d murdered Graham, and the police had believed the story he’d created. He could do it again if he wanted to.
Rick walked back into the kitchen, sat at the small table, and opened his notes again. Cass’s name was at the top. Tour dates underneath. Cities and scraps of information he could connect if he wanted to.
Under the list he typed,Make her remember.
Rick stared at the screen for a long time without moving. When he finally set the phone down, he felt calm. “I know what I need to do.”
Chapter Ten
Rick was already outside the restaurant by the time Allen arrived. He stood with his hands in his coat pockets, watching the cars go by. He smiled when Allen approached, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and Allen noticed.
“Hey,” Allen said.
“Hey,” Rick replied, leaning in and kissing Allen’s cheek. Allen smiled as Rick stepped back and opened the door for him. “Are you hungry?”
“Yeah,” Allen said.
The place was busy but not too loud. A host led them to a booth near the back, and Allen slid in first. Rick sat opposite him, pulled his phone out, glanced at it, then put it on the table.
Allen picked up the menu, then immediately put it down. He watched Rick, noticing his clenched jaw and the way his eyes moved around the restaurant, then came back to Allen. Rick gave Allen another smile, then looked at the menu.
Allen hesitated. He could tell something was wrong, but he wasn't sure if he should say anything. Rick didn’t seem like he wanted to be there, and Allen didn’t want Rick to think he had to come out if he didn’t feel up to it.
After a minute, Allen asked, “You okay?”
Rick’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if the question had caught him off guard. “Yeah.” He smiled, then looked down at his phone before looking back up again. "I'm okay."
Allen tried not to overthink it. There could be any number of reasons why Rick appeared to be distracted. The server came over before Allen could figure out what to say, and Allen ordered a burger and fries. Rick ordered the same thing, then asked for water.
When the server left, Rick reached for his phone again, then stopped and flipped it so the screen faced down.
Allen watched him. “You sure you’re okay?”
Rick let out a slow breath. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
Allen didn’t respond right away. He put his hands on the table and looked at Rick. “You don’t seem fine.”
Rick held his gaze for a second. “Are you always this stubborn?”
“Yeah,” Allen said.
Rick’s mouth twitched, but there wasn’t much humor in it. He looked past Allen toward the front of the restaurant, then back again.
Allen didn’t know what he was checking for. Someone coming in. Someone looking too long. It still made Allen’s stomach tighten, and he blurted out, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.” Allen shrugged. “I’m not trying to start anything. I just noticed, that’s all.”
Rick nodded. “I’ve got a lot going on.”
“With music?” Allen asked. If there was something he could do to help, then he would, but he really didn’t know much about music.
Rick looked down for a second, then back up. “Writing.”
Allen watched him and nodded. “Is it going bad?”
