I swallowed and kept eye contact with Luke. “It’s not that.” I blew out a breath. Might as well get it off my chest. “It’s just that he already refers to me as his girlfriend. I like him, but he’s moving kind of fast.”
Luke tilted his head and took a step closer to me. “So you’d be open to dating other guys?”
“Does that make me seem like a bad person?”
“No, it means you’re careful and honest with yourself.” He stared at me for a moment. The rich blue of his eyes held my focus. He lowered his voice. “It makes me want to ask you out.”
I felt my face go slack, and I struggled to regain my composure.
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.” He twisted the towel between his hands. “I don’t usually, uh, date, but you know my story. Anyway, I’d just like to hang out.”
There it was again. I felt like he was talking himself out of liking me. He let go of the towel, and I watched it slowly unwind. It was about the least compelling invitation for a date I’d ever received, but something about the storm clouds in his eyes kept me riveted. I wanted to know more about him, in spite of Dallas. “This is an incredibly busy time for me. You know—June is the month for weddings.”
Luke nodded and brushed his hand past mine. “Just dinner. I—well, you’re the only one I’ve told . . .” His mouth opened as if to say more, but he clamped it shut. Then he touched my wrist and whispered, “Think about it.”
I swallowed and looked at the ground, unsure of how to answer. Then I remembered why I had stopped in the first place. “Mind your manners with those petunias, and they’ll keep blooming into September.” I had skirted his question, but it was the best I could do.
He saluted me. With a wave, I got into my car and hurried back to work. The detour had cost me another twenty minutes.
Luke’s invitation for a date pressed against the back of my brain. He was both infuriating and attractive, but at the same time I wasn’t sure if I should trust him. He said he just wanted to hang out and he had shared his past, but what if Luke’s story was something he made up to gain my trust?
I mulled that over for a few blocks. No, the idea was silly. He was a divorce lawyer, not a criminal—depending on who you asked, of course. The encounter we’d had on the running trail had calmed my suspicions. I thought of the emotion I’d seen on Luke’s face. He deserved an award if that was an act.
But still, there had to be more than one person involved with the diamonds. What if Luke was staking me out? It wouldn’t be hard for him to take my picture. He knew what time I usually ran and was familiar with my route. My thoughts spiraled out of control as I tried to pin the blame on someone, anyone. The faceless enemy made me feel so much more vulnerable.
I was afraid to go home, so I worked until the last possible minute and then texted Tony that I’d be home in ten minutes to change into my running clothes and be on my way. Tux bumped up against the patio window when I got home, and I opened the door and cuddled him for a moment before refilling his cat dish. “Wish me luck,” I murmured as I set him down.
Briette smiled up at me from the picture frame, and I touched it as I came into my bedroom. I could be brave tonight. Ten minutes later, I walked out to my vehicle, stretched, and climbed inside. Tony had told me to take a couple of switchbacks so it would seem like I was trying to throw the thief off my trail. I drove toward Warm Springs Road again, but this time I turned off onto a side street that didn’t offer a hiding place. I turned around and drove to the park. I counted to one hundred before getting out, adjusted the laces on my shoes and headed for the path. Without a backward glance, I began running, hoping Tony and his gang were as close by as he said they’d be. I usually didn’t run this late at night, so if the thief was as attentive as I thought, he would know the diamonds were on the move.
With each step, I felt my anxiety heighten. I kept reminding myself to breathe. My iPod was snug on my arm, but no sound came from the earbuds. I wanted to be alert to any strange noises along the way.
Fifteen minutes into my run, I could feel the tension from my shoulders radiating up my neck. Relax, Adri. I checked my watch—it was nearly eight twenty, and I was almost to the entrance of the cemetery. I had run way too fast. Tony planned to pass by me on the trail around eight forty. At this rate, I’d be on my way back, a mere half mile from my car. I worried I would pass the meeting point before Tony could get there. I needed to kill some time.
The cemetery had no visitors that I could see. I couldn’t resist looking behind me as I entered. No one followed, but I couldn’t shake the oppressive feeling of someone watching. I ran toward Hemingway’s grave and darted between the large fir trees flanking the slab marked with the famed writer’s name. I paused and looked around again.
A slight breeze lifted the pine boughs, and I could hear the tree creak in the stillness. My shoulders rippled in an involuntary shiver. Taking a deep breath, I ran across the cemetery toward the rusty bird feeder. As I approached the tree, my stomach clenched. The bird feeder was gone.
For
