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“I, um, can’t talk now. I have lots and lots of things to do today. Busy, busy.” How could she get away from him? He…scared her.
I see you.
“Come to my office later today,” Gabriel ordered.
Nope. That did not work for her. “Can’t.”
A muscle flexed along his jaw. “You get that I’m trying to help you?”
Are you?
“Public place,” she heard herself whisper. She stopped playing with the pearls. “I want a public place. How about—look, I’ll text you when I’m free, and we can grab a late dinner or something. Talk then.”
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not the killer.”
“Isn’t that what a killer would say?” Weak. Breathy.
His jaw tightened.
“I’ll text you,” she promised. “When I’m done with work.”
He slid the sunglasses back into place. “Great. You do that. And we’ll meet up at Ms. Rochelle’s diner.”
The diner…hadn’t Tiffany been there right before she died? Hadn’t Shamus mentioned that on one of his news reports?
Gabriel sauntered away. “See you soon, Kimber.”
I see you.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“You know that you don’t just get to waltz into a maximum security penitentiary and have an immediate one-on-one chat with a death row inmate, right?” Hunter kept his loose grip around the steering wheel. The ride had been quiet. Though he could practically feel the thoughts rolling inside of Shelby’s head.
He’d had plenty of rolling thoughts himself. Thoughts like…maybe I shouldn’t have confessed to falling for her. Maybe I pushed too far, too fast. Maybe she wants to run from me.
Maybe I’m a fucking idiot.
She cleared her throat. “I heard you on the phone with Declan, before we left the safe house. You made arrangements for us to get inside. Pulled strings that I probably don’t want to know about.”
Because some of those strings hadn’t exactly been on the up and up. “The right amount of pressure was applied to the warden. Declan is good when it comes to pressure.” Declan had lots of talents that most people didn’t understand.
And during that little chat with Declan, his best friend had asked, “You want me to just kill the prick? I can eliminate Nate, no problem. You know I can. We can make it look like an escape attempt. The right money given to the right guard…”
“I guess I picked the right PI, didn’t I?” she mused. “I’ll have to send Memphis a thank you card. You have all the best connections.”
“I’m already planning to send him a fruit basket, so don’t worry about it.” The national news had picked up the murder of Harvey Wyle—two murders so close together, possibly linked to the Sorority Seven Killer? Yep, the national news was frothing at the mouth. Which meant that Memphis Camden would be hearing about the drama. All of the Ice Breakers would know. Hunter figured he’d be getting a phone call from Memphis soon. Maybe more than that.
“I appreciate you helping me.”
Aw, hell, were they back to the appreciate word again? He turned to the right. Almost to his destination. His gaze automatically darted to the rearview mirror.
The white van behind him had also turned right.
He reached out and made a quick call. In seconds, John Henry’s voice filled the interior of his rental car.
“Yo,” John Henry said. “My eyes are on them. From what I can tell, the van picked you up about twenty minutes after you left Hathaway. Already ran the plates—the van belongs to a local news station. Channel Seven.”
“Shamus,” he muttered.
