Out Of Hiding. Rachel Dylan

perfect. I’m addicted to pasta of all kinds.”

      A hostess guided them to a corner table, and he chose the seat against the wall facing the restaurant so he’d have the best vantage point of the room. If there were any threats, he’d be able to identify them.

      The smell of the sauce had him realizing how hungry he was. He’d only had a power bar for lunch. The restaurant was busy most of the time, and tonight was no exception. There was just enough noise and people for it not to seem awkward between them.

      He smiled at her. A server walked over immediately to take their drink orders. He ordered water, and she ordered an unsweetened tea.

      “So tell me a bit more about you, Sadie.”

      The server popped back over with their drinks and warm bread. Sadie diverted her eyes for just a brief second, looking down at the menu, and then glanced up making eye contact again.

      “I grew up in Oregon. Then went to college here in Texas at UT. And I’ve been in El Paso ever since graduation.”

      “Where are your parents?”

      Her eyes shifted again. “They’re still in Oregon. Mom’s a teacher, and dad’s an architect. I’m very close to them even though I don’t visit enough. I try to talk to them on the phone often. What about you?”

      “I moved a lot. Dad was in the army. So we were all over the place, but I spent a good chunk of time growing up in the South. I went to The Citadel, and then joined the army.” He took a big bite of the buttery breadstick.

      “How long were you in the military?”

      “Until three years ago. Being a ranger got to be a bit too difficult after a while.” That was an understatement. “So I retired and joined the FBI.”

      “Why the FBI?”

      “Law enforcement was a good fit. I thought I could use everything I’d learned as a ranger and really make a difference.”

      She cocked her head to the side. “And are you?”

      “Am I what?”

      “Making a difference?”

      “I’d like to think so.”

      The server came back, and they both ordered pasta. He opted for spaghetti to satisfy his craving, and she surprised him with her choice of fettuccine Alfredo—the richest pasta on the menu.

      “And why are you a P.I.?”

      “I also wanted to make a difference. But I like being my own boss. I didn’t want the constraints of a system that allows important details to get lost.”

      Interesting, he thought. He wondered what caused her to distrust government agencies. She didn’t have to say it, but he knew there was a more complex story brewing under the surface.

      “Who taught you how to shoot?”

      “A friend I met in college.”

      Ah. He was curious if this guy was a lot more than a friend to her. But it wasn’t his place to pry right now.

      Their meal came, and he was glad she didn’t pick at her food but ate eagerly. They both finished off all their pasta, and he even dove into a second basket of breadsticks. But now dinner was over, and it was time to get to work. Thankfully, he hadn’t identified any threats in the restaurant.

      “So do you have a plan for tonight?” he asked.

      “Scope it out. Talk to some people. Show her picture to a few of the workers. You know the drill. What about you?”

      “See what I can see. Make sure not to make waves. More watching than talking if you know what I mean. I’d love to actually confirm for myself that Igor has been hanging out there.” He reached over and picked up the check.

      “Let’s split it,” she said.

      “No.” He smiled. “This one’s on the FBI.” He opened his wallet and pulled out some cash.

      “Are you sure?” She frowned slightly.

      “Absolutely.”

      “Thank you.”

      “Let’s do it.”

      Once they got in the car, she looked over at him. “That was a nice dinner, Kip. But when were you planning to inform me about the tail we picked up on the way over?”