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keeping something from him that was important to the investigation. “Did it have anything to do with Warren?”
    Damn! Now I had to make up something really good. “No. It’s not about that.” Thinking fast, I lowered my voice and leaned toward them. “It’s about a secret recipe. My client wants to know if this restaurant stole hers. I was going to do some snooping around… ask a few questions. But… after this, I’ll have to come back some other time.”
    I sat back in my seat. “You won’t tell anyone, will you? It’s supposed to be confidential, and I don’t want anyone here to know.”
    “No,” Fitch said. “Of course not.” He was caught off guard, and had a hard time wrapping his head around my explanation. A secret recipe? Here, in this dive? Of course, he’d never eaten here before. Maybe the food was really good. He’d have to give it a try. He wondered what dish it was and glanced at the table, just in case there was a menu handy.
    “If that’s all, I might as well go,” I said, catching his attention. “There’s nothing more I can do for you is there?”
    “No, I think that’s everything,” he answered. “Could you give me your card in case we need to get in touch?” He was thinking if I were lying I wouldn’t have a business card to give him.
    Good grief! Was he always this suspicious of every little thing? “Sure.” I rummaged through my bag and found my purse, then pulled a business card out of the pocket where I kept them. “Here you go.”
    “Thanks.” He eagerly studied it, thinking that it looked authentic. The number had a different area code than Florida, but that wasn’t too unusual. “This looks like a business number. Do you have a personal cell phone number you could give me?”
    “Yeah, sure. Let me write it down on the back of the card.” Dang, he was good. After getting my name and consulting agency in the paper for finding all that stolen bank money, I’d had to get a business line for all the phone calls. Now I couldn’t ditch Fitch so easily.
    “Thanks. I’ll call if I need anything.”
    “Okay.” I took my time stuffing my purse back into my bag, waiting for him to be the first to leave the booth. I didn’t want to look too eager to get out of there. I checked the time. It was one-thirty-five. Could I still make it to the airport? I had to try.
    A group of people came into the restaurant wheeling a gurney to pick up the body. The grim sight reminded me that I wasn’t out of danger yet. Not with Warren’s warning rattling around in my head. Were Carson and his goons watching for me? My stomach tightened. I needed to get out of here.
    I walked to the front of the restaurant and glanced out the window. Lots of police cars and yellow tape surrounded the entrance and filled the parking lot. There was no way I would find a taxi without calling a cab company. I turned back to search for the hostess and ask for a phone book.
    She was sitting in a booth with another worker, and stood as I approached. “I need to call a cab,” I said. “Do you have a phone book or a number handy?”
    “Yeah, we keep the number at the hostess desk for emergencies,” she said. She was thinking that the police and yellow tape had probably scared my lover off, so now I had to pay for my own ride home.
    I could hardly believe how judgmental she was and decided that she’d been watching too much TV. From my experience listening to people’s thoughts, I knew most regular people didn’t do half the things other people assumed they did. “Here it is,” she said, handing me a laminated piece of paper with the phone number on it. “Do you need a phone?”
    “No, but thanks.” I took a seat in the waiting area, needing some space to get my purse back out of my bag where it was stuffed. I pulled out my phone, only to realize I’d missed several calls and text messages…all from Chris. Oops. I sent a quick text telling him I was fine and I’d call soon. After that I