“He did. But he’s served enough time to be eligible for parole. And according to the papers, he’s a ‘changed’ man. He’s discovered the Lord.” Crow snorted. “Yeah, right.”
Sara added more sugar to her coffee but kept her face expressionless. “You don’t think a person can change?”
“No way.”
Surprised at the vehemence of his response, Sara glanced up and found his gaze riveted on her. She shifted uncomfortably. It almost seemed as if he could see straight through to her soul.
“The thief on the cross repented,” Sara said. “Christ forgave him.”
“I just know what I’ve seen.” Crow’s tone was flat. “And believe me, I haven’t seen too many people who have really changed. Once a drug dealer, always a drug dealer. Once a thief, always a thief.”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat. “You can’t believe that.”
“You can’t believe that finding God and saying you’re sorry is all that it takes.”
That’s exactly what I believe.
Sara shrugged. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. I can tell I’m not going to change your mind.”
“You’ve got that right.” Crow’s gaze flicked over her. “I know what’s true and there isn’t anyone who’s going to convince me different.”
“Whatever.” Someday she hoped someone would help Crow discover what God’s grace was all about. That someone wouldn’t be her. She picked up the tablet. “I want to see what kind of buzz my new album is getting.”
“Your career’s pretty hot right now, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” Sara swiped at the screen.
“According to your manager, those threatening notes started coming right after you won that award.”
“They weren’t threatening,” Sara said.
“Whatever,” he said, mimicking the word she’d used earlier.
She smiled.
“It’s not funny.” Crow’s face took on a familiar scowl. “Jealousy can make people do strange things.”
He was so far off the mark, she wanted to laugh. She decided to humor him instead. “Are you thinking this note writer is another performer?”
“Could be,” Crow said. “Anybody you can think of that would like to see your career take a nosedive?”
“Not a one.” Her fellow performers were incapable of such actions.
“There’s got to be one or two that—”
“There’s not,” Sara said emphatically. “Why are you so curious anyway?”
“Don’t you want to find out who’s responsible for the notes?”
She noticed he didn’t answer her question, but she let it go. “Like I told Meg, it’s probably just some kind of joke. And frankly I’m sick to death of thinking and talking about it.”
“What do you want to talk about then?”
Sara leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. She pasted an expectant look on her face. “Why don’t you tell me about yourself? I’m dying to know everything about you.”
He groaned.
Sara smiled.
“May I help you, sir?”
Crow’s gaze flicked briefly to the salesclerk before returning to where Sara stood, flipping through a pile of lingerie. The sign overhead proclaimed Fifty Percent Off.
“No, thanks.” Crow jerked his head in the direction of the sale table. “I’m just waiting for a friend.”
“I understand completely.” The man’s voice held a hint of amusement and for a brief moment they shared a bond.
Women.
If Crow didn’t know better, he’d swear she’d deliberately invented this shopping trip to either get back at him for refusing to tell her anything about himself or to drive him crazy. And it was working. In the past two hours they’d been in five stores. She’d worked her way through countless racks and tables. And he’d been there, guarding her body.
His smile widened. Even though her clothes did nothing to accentuate her figure, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see her curves were definitely in all the right places and, even though at five feet five she wasn’t as tall as he liked…
As tall as he liked?
Crow brought himself up short. She was his client. When the assignment was over, he’d probably go back to the police force and to his first and only love: his job.
A man he’d never seen before pushed his way through the crowd and stood beside Sara. Crow’s eyes narrowed. He quickly covered the distance between them but the guy in the navy suit had vanished as quickly as he had appeared.
“Where did he go?”
Sara dropped the lingerie she’d been holding back on the table. “What are you talking about?”
“The man in the suit,” he said impatiently, his gaze searching the nearby aisles. “You were just talking to him.”
“Oh, you mean Ralph.” Sara smiled. “He works in Menswear on the weekends.”
“What did he want?” Crow snapped.
Normally females quivered when he let his impatience show. Sara didn’t bat an eye.
“If you must know, he wanted to meet me.” Her smile widened. “His thirteen-year-old daughter is a big fan of mine.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?”
“Because you didn’t say ‘pretty please.’” A dimple he’d never noticed before flashed in one cheek. “You’re certainly grouchy. Not interested in women’s lingerie?”
“Oh, I’m very interested in women’s lingerie,” he said. “Taking it off that is.” Crow forgot for the moment he wasn’t talking to one of the guys.
To his surprise, she laughed. “I should have known better than to ask.”
“Are you hungry?” Crow said, changing the subject. “I know a great place not far from here.”
“Don’t tell me.” She crossed her arms and studied him, an impish grin on her face. “They serve great brats and beer?”
“No, that place is way across town.” He cupped her elbow in his hand. “Trust me. You’ll like this one.”
“Do I have a choice?”
Crow didn’t answer. He was too busy hustling her out of the mall and hoping that after she filled up on pasta and bread, she’d be too tired to shop anymore.
The Grotto had been a favorite of his family when he’d been growing up. It had been years since he’d been back but he’d heard that it still had the best spaghetti carbonara in the city.
Since it was after one, the lunch crowd had thinned and Sara and Crow were seated immediately.
“In the winter I’d kill for this table.” Sara gestured to the huge stone fireplace next to them. “It figures the only time I’d get it would be in the summer.”
“Don’t just sit and complain.” He shoved the menu at her, irritated that she hadn’t instantly fallen in love with the place. “See what you want.”
“When you put it so nicely, how can I refuse?” She picked up the menu and shot him a smile they both knew wasn’t sincere. “Do you think you growl so much because all that hair makes you feel like a bear?”