The Wharf (5 page)

Good. She tugged on the lapels of her jacket. That made her job a lot easier.

Made lunch a lot easier, too. The hostess ensured that they had warm bread and cold water on their table in record time.

Kacie flicked open the menu, while munching on a piece of that bread drenched in olive oil.

“I’ve never been here before. Have you?” Ryan ran his finger down the sheet of daily specials.

“Once or twice. Everything’s good.”

“I think I’ll go with the fettuccine with clam sauce.”

“Excellent choice.” She dabbed her fingers on the napkin in her lap. “Do you want to get down to business?”

“Sure, but can we finish last night’s business first?”

Last night’s business when she’d been ready to turn down her sheets for him at the crook of his little finger?

“We had unfinished business?”

“The security guard. Did he ever get back to you? Did he ever talk to those teenage boys?”

“I didn’t hear from him, and there was a different clerk at the front desk this afternoon.”

A waiter approached their table and took their order. When he left, Kacie pulled out her mini-recorder.

“I hope you don’t mind if I tape our interview.”

“Nope.” He dug into the bread basket and dropped a piece on his plate. “You must have some fascinating recordings of Dan Walker.”

“I do. A lot of times, it wasn’t until I listened to the recording that I got to understand the man, as much as you can understand a sociopath. He’s very distracting to talk to—he’s such a good actor.”

“And I’m not.” He spread his arms. “What you see is what you get.”

A total hunk with a protective streak a mile wide and a smile that could melt the insides of the snootiest, skinniest restaurant hostess in North Beach.

Kacie cleared her throat and set up her recording device. “That’s good to know.”

As she placed her finger on the record button, Ryan put his hand over hers like a caress. “Can I ask you a question before we get started?”

When he touched her like that, he could ask her anything. She flicked his hand off hers and pressed Record. “Go ahead.”

He glanced down at the red light blinking on the recorder. “Why my father’s story? Why are you interested in writing a book about a twenty-year-old cold case?”

“Because it
is
a cold case. Your father, an SFPD homicide detective, was suspected of being the Phone Book Killer, a serial killer he was investigating himself, but nobody ever proved it.”

“A lot of people said he proved it when he jumped from the Golden Gate Bridge and the murders stopped.”

“Damning evidence, but there are so many more who believe he was set up, and now all four of the sons he left behind are in some type of law enforcement. It’s a great story.” She shrugged her shoulders, stiff from her lies.

“You can count my two older brothers among those who believe in our father’s innocence. They’ve recently stumbled across some new evidence and have agreed to give it to me to pass along to you.”

Her water sloshed as she set down her glass. “Sean and Eric know I’m writing a book about the case?”

“Yeah. They’re okay with it. I told them your angle is that someone set up Joseph Brody.”

They wouldn’t be okay with it if they knew her true purpose...and her true identity.

“Great.” A smile stretched her lips. “And I’d love to see that new evidence. What do you remember about that time?”

“Not much. I was young and confused, and then I lost my dad, who was a larger-than-life figure for me.” His green eyes darkened as he took a sip of water. “Do you still have both of your parents?”

“Y-yes.”

He splayed his hands on the white tablecloth in front of him. “It’s hard to explain the loss of a parent, especially at a young age. You can’t begin to understand the hole it leaves.”

Oh, but she could.

“You’re right.”

“And then I lost my mom.” He studied his fingernails. “She turned to prescription drugs and alcohol, and Sean had to take over the parenting duties.”

“Your mom passed away.” She knew the whole painful Brody story.

“Not until I was an adult, but it was still tough. So many wasted years.”

Their food arrived, and Kacie turned off the recorder. Ryan’s soulful eyes and sensitive mouth were going to make this a lot harder than she’d anticipated.

The smell of garlic and fresh clams wafted from Ryan’s plate, putting her chopped salad to shame. She dug into her rabbit food as he twirled his fork into his creamy pasta.

They ate in silence for a few minutes before he pointed his fork at her salad. “Is that all you’re having?”

“It’s a big salad.”

“It’s a salad.” He held his fork out to her, tightly wrapped in fettuccine, the savory steam curling beneath her nose. “Try some of this.”

She tapped her plate. “Put it here.”

“Then you’ll have to twirl it up again. Here.” He hunched forward, the fork centimeters from her lips.

She opened her mouth and he placed the fork against her tongue. She sealed her lips around the tines and sucked the pasta into her mouth as he drew the fork out with a flourish.

Tingles raced up her inner thighs and circled her belly. She grabbed her napkin and pressed it against the lower half of her face while she chewed. This craziness had to stop.

“Good, huh?” He grinned, but his heavily lidded eyes looked more seductive than smiley.

“Very good.” She dropped the napkin from her still-warm face. “Now I will return to my regularly scheduled salad.”

“Just let me know if you want another...taste.”

She waved down the waiter. “More iced tea, please.”

She had to find some way to stay cool. Did all this sex appeal come naturally to Ryan Brody, or was he cranking up the charm for some ulterior motive? She’d already told him she planned to focus the book on proving his father’s innocence. He didn’t have to butter her up.

Her gaze dropped to his strong hands as he ripped a roll in two and smeared a pat of butter across one half. Although she wouldn’t mind if he buttered her up, down and sideways.

She’d
never
felt this way about a story resource before.

Holding up the roll, he asked, “Do you want the other half?”

“No, thanks.” She pushed her plate away, dabbed water droplets from the tablecloth with her napkin and repositioned her recorder on the table.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

He polished off the rest of his meal, including the rest of her roll, and then perused the dessert menu. “Do you want to share a dessert?”

“I’m good.”

He ordered a coffee instead and leaned back in his chair as he stirred in a swirl of cream. “Fire away. Ask me anything you want about my father’s case. If I don’t know the answer, I’ll ask my older brothers.”

Kacie flipped open her notebook, which contained sheets of printed-out questions. She dived in.

“The Phone Book Killer case was unusual from the get-go, wasn’t it? After the first two victims, the killer started communicating with your father, one of the detectives on the case, claiming he was selecting his victims out of the phone book.”

“That’s right. Serial killers have been known to contact the police to brag and taunt, and the Phone Book Killer singled out my dad. Of course, that’s one of the aspects of the case that caused some doubt about my father. Why him?”

“Good question.” She drummed her fingers against the tablecloth. “Then he kidnapped your brother. Was that some kind of warning?”

“According to Sean, that’s what my father thought. It was the killer’s message that he could get to any member of my family.”

“But your brother wasn’t harmed, which became another oddity of the case.”

Ryan raised his shoulders and let them drop. “People say Joey Brody staged the kidnapping to divert suspicion from himself.”

“Then the evidence from your father started to pile up—missing days from work, plaster found in the trunk of his car, the same type of plaster used in casts, which the Phone Book Killer was wearing to disarm his victims.”

“Too pat. Too easy.” He massaged the back of his neck. “In hindsight, it smells like a setup.”

As she reeled off the elements of the case against Joey Brody, Ryan had an answer for every one of them. He had emphasized that his older brothers believed without a doubt in their father’s innocence, and Ryan’s hot defense of Joey Brody put him firmly in that camp.

Of course they were all in that camp. Admitting your father had blood on his hands had to be hard.

After another hour of question and answer, where they saw the restaurant clear out and received several visits from their waiter with more coffee and iced tea in hand, Kacie clicked off the recorder.

“I really appreciate your openness. It can’t be easy. Y-your dad sounds like he was a great cop.”

And Daniel Walker had been a great football player.

He shrugged. “Life is full of trials and tribulations. How about you? You look like you’ve had it pretty easy—smart, attractive, successful.”

Straightening her shoulders, she folded her hands on top of the notebook. “I’ve been lucky. I have a wonderful family. Great parents, two older sisters.”

“I hope you appreciate that.”

Anxious to hide the emotion that had overcome her, she swiped her recorder from the table and ducked down to stuff it into her bag. “Oh, I do, but you’re right.” She popped back up with her phone and wallet in hand. “We all have our...disappointments in life.”

A loud voice carried across the mostly empty restaurant. “Kacie Manning, right?”

She jerked her head up and zeroed in on a pudgy man with a black goatee making his way toward their table. “Do I know you?”

He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ray Lopez. I’m a reporter with a local TV show.”

Great. That’s all I need.

“Good to meet you, Ray.” She gestured toward Ryan. “This is Ryan Brody. Chief Brody.”

“Oh, hey. No introductions necessary. I know who Chief Brody is. I’m like this—” he held up two fingers pressed together “—with Sean and Eric. Eric’s fiancée, Christina, and I go way back.”

Ryan shook Lopez’s hand, sizing him up with one glance. “Sure, I know who you are.”

Kacie’s gaze bounced from Lopez to Ryan. Sounded as if Ryan wished he didn’t know Lopez.

“I’m a big fan of yours, Kacie. Is it true you’re doing a book on Joey Brody?”

“You know, I’d rather not discuss that.” She swirled the ice in her water glass and took a sip.

“Say no more.” Lopez raised his hands. “It’s just that I’ve been trying to get exclusives for years with the Brodys. Guess I’m the wrong sex or something.”

Ryan tossed his napkin onto the table. “Excuse me?”

“Just a little joke, Brody. I’d rather work with Kacie Manning than with me, too.” He winked and sauntered back to the hostess stand.

“What a jerk.” Kacie rolled her eyes.

“He’s been kind of a local fixture here the past few years.”

“Does he really know your brothers?”

“Yeah, but Sean just tolerates him and Eric can’t stand him.” Ryan made a move for the check, which had been perched on the edge of their table for an hour. “Let me get this.”

She beat him to it, snatching it up and pressing it to her chest. “Tax write-off, remember?”

As she snapped her plastic down on the tray, Ryan tapped her phone on the table. “You have a couple of messages.”

“I heard them come through earlier.” She picked up the phone. “Didn’t want to disturb our flow.”

“Yeah, we do have a flow, don’t we?”

The hostess with the mostest had extricated herself from Lopez, who’d since left the restaurant. She parked herself next to Ryan’s chair, batting her fake eyelashes. “Is there anything else we can do for you today?”

“No, thanks. Sorry we took up this table all afternoon.”

“No problem.” She waved her perfectly manicured nails. “I could see you were hard at work over here. If you like to play as hard as you work, a friend of mine is having a party tonight at a private club. I could get you in as my...guest.”

Kacie clenched her teeth as she tapped her phone to view her messages. He could do whatever he wanted while he was here, including partying with pretty people, as long as he made himself available to her for their interviews and a few field trips.

But she didn’t even hear his response as she read over her second message. The blood drained from her face and her head felt like a balloon ready to float away.

“Kacie?”

She glanced up from the display to meet Ryan’s eyes, wide and questioning.

“Are you okay?”

The hostess backed up from the table. “I’ll let you two finish your business.”

Kacie dragged in a breath and released it through dry lips. “It’s my contact from last night. He wants to meet again tonight.”

“The ex-con?” He snapped his fingers for the phone. “No way.”

She raised her brows. When had she appointed him her master scheduler? She handed him the phone anyway, realizing she’d have a hard time saying no to this man.

He peered at the display and read it aloud. “‘Meet me same place as last night, same time. More info. DB.’”

He handed the phone back to her. “You recognize that number?”

“It’s the same one he used before and the same initials.” She pressed her damp palms against her napkin, still crumpled in her lap. “Maybe he knows about that doll. Maybe he saw who gave it to the homeless guy.”

“Maybe you should ignore him.”

“I can’t. He’s warning me about Walker.”

“Or he’s doing Walker’s bidding. You ever think of that?”

“Yes. I’m not stupid.”

“Oh, I know that, but you’re not thinking clearly right now. You are
not
going to traipse down to the wharf alone at eleven o’clock at night.”

“I have to go. He might have important information about Walker’s next move against me, maybe something I can give to the police this time.”

Ryan held up his hands. “You weren’t listening. I said you weren’t going there
alone.
”

A little thrill raced down her back. She couldn’t help it. “He’ll never talk if he sees you there.”

“Who said he’s going to see me?”