When Raven reached the corner, she pulled up and turned around. Damian stood ten feet from her at a food truck, searching for his wallet as a man with a gray beard handed him something covered in chili. The food scents made Raven’s stomach growl. She feigned studying her phone as he took his time, counting out exact change. The man inside the food truck grumbled and accepted the money, shooting a pointed look at the tip jar. Damian didn’t notice or didn’t care. Raven ground her teeth. The market analyst acted like a big shot in front of the blonde girl at the gym. He was just a typical cheapskate, stealing every penny from the world. But she had to admit, he pulled her eyes in his tight slacks. He slung his jacket over his shoulder.
“Hi there.”
She jumped at his voice. Damian stood a step away, almost on top of her, his shadow swallowing hers on the pavement.
“Do we know each other?” she asked, slipping the phone into her pocket.
“Not by name. I’ve seen you at the gym. Benson’s Barbells in Kane Grove.”
“Uh, I haven’t worked out there in over a year.”
“But I saw you there yesterday. In the parking lot around five o’clock?”
He saw her through the window?
“Oh, right. I was considering buying a membership.”
“Did you?”
“I…” She swallowed when he removed his sunglasses. The blues of his eyes reminded her of the Caribbean on a calm day. “I got a phone call and had to run.”
He crossed his arms over his chest
“That’s a shame. You’d make a helluva training partner. You’re in fine shape. You must do something to burn the calories outside of gym time.”
“I work out in my basement and run hill sprints when the weather allows.”
“I can teach you my favorite aerobic activities if you’re game.”
Did he just wink at her? And why were her palms sweaty?
“So, do you work in Syracuse?” he asked.
“No, I’m visiting a friend. Meeting her for coffee, actually.”
“Meeting her. That’s good to know. Does she have a smoking hot body like yours?”
He ran his eyes from her chest to her legs. She stood speechless as the wind played through her braids.
“Anyhow, my name is Damian. Damian Ramos.”
Damn. This was the part where he expected her name.
“Oh, I’m Gwen. Gwen Stephani.” He arched his eyebrow. “Stephani with a ph. Yeah, everyone laughs when I tell them my name.”
“The famous Gwen doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Oh, please. He brushed his hair back, though it held solid against the breeze. “I’d better get back to work. My office is right around the corner. Maybe I’ll see you at the gym sometime.”
“Possibly. I’m weighing my options.”
“Well,” he said, pulling a business card from his wallet. “Here’s my card. The number on top is my office line, the number on the bottom is my cell. Call either, but I prefer the bottom.”
Raven clamped her teeth down on her tongue.
“Yeah, sure.”
She prayed he wouldn’t ask for her number.
“We should train together sometime. Burn some serious calories, yeah?”
“That’s me. I’m all about burning those calories.”
“Cool, Gwen. I look forward to your call.”
He strutted away and headed up the block. Raven didn’t know how to react. She watched him until he vanished. Then she took a side street lined with small businesses, figuring he might spot her climbing into her Rogue across the street from the firm. He conducted himself like a frat boy. But she wasn’t buying it. Not completely. The guy was a creep, but he laid it on too thick.
Was Damian on to her?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Wednesday, July 15th
11:15 a.m.
A copy of the missing person’s report had been on his desk when Thomas arrived for work Wednesday morning. Duncan Bond phoned the county sheriff’s office at sunset after his wife, Cecilia, who’d gone for a walk around four o’clock, hadn’t returned home from the village park.
Twenty minutes ago, a jogger reported a body in the river, caught in a bend amid broken branches and waterlogged leaves. Now Thomas drove the cruiser into the village park with the dreaded certainty the jogger had found their missing person.
The terrain allowed Thomas to navigate the cruiser through the grass. He stopped at the ridge overlooking the water. Sheriff Gray pulled beside him and glanced over at Thomas. Thomas saw the worry pouring out of Gray’s eyes.
“You bring gloves?” Thomas asked as he searched through his kit.
“In the trunk.”
After they gloved up, they descended the terrain to the dirt trail running along the river. A man in shorts and a tank top waved his arms over his head to get their attention. As they approached, the man pointed at the body, face down in the river and bobbing with the current. Already Thomas determined it was a woman. Her gray-blonde hair floated atop the water and fanned out like a peacock spreading its feathers. The man backed away from the water when Thomas and Gray waded in. A dozen onlookers watched from the ridge. One woman held a child in her arms. The icy water made Thomas catch his breath.
“I’m too old for this shit,” Gray said, grabbing hold of a tree branch overhanging the water so the current didn’t knock him over.
“One foot in front of the other,” said Thomas.
His toes numbed inside his boots. Along the ridge, a horn scattered the looky-loos as another vehicle jounced to a stop. Virgil Harbough, the county medical examiner, had arrived. Thomas reached out and snagged the woman’s ankle. He spotted the pulpy laceration on the back of her head as he dragged her toward the shore. A wave smashed Thomas from behind and soaked him from
