18 Eighteen

"I hope you're hungry. We'll need food to go over these documents," he asked, tapping an office flat-file beside his mineral water.

She looked up from the menu, and with a glitter in her eyes, said, "Ravenous."

His pulse and his cock leaped at that. They were at dinner. It was a few hours after the better part of his anger had worn off, and he'd been able to come up with a plan to uncover her secrets, all he could think about was the searing kiss they both shared earlier in the day. It angered him, but he couldn't help himself. Her lips had been the best thing he'd ever tasted. They were curved invitingly, pillow-soft, yet strong, and currently painted red. It was a bold red temptation.

"Me, too," he said.

"Then might I suggest the…"

The voice from a waiter who'd been waiting to take their orders droned in on them. His brain told his eyes to focus on the menu before she noticed him staring like a lovesick puppy. Because he wasn't. He didn't have time for love. If he wasn't sure before, he certainly got the memo after his ex-wife--Charity, abandoned the marriage to be with someone else.

"… Guy-talian Nachos…"

"Sounds delicious, I'll have it," Albert said, returning his menu as his gaze traveled the path of her necklace down to her breasts. He wanted to feel their weight against his chest again.

"I think I'll have the buffalo chicken salad if that's okay." her voice snapped him out of his dirty thoughts.

He really needed to push back those memories, as she'd most certainly done. Not once did she bring up the kiss since they met at the Chief's office, and while he felt like he should say something--like an apology--it was just easier to continue like it never happened. Then he wondered for how long he could keep up. Whatever attraction he felt towards her had doubled since then. The only thing keeping him at bay was her lies.

"The buffalo chicken salad is a good choice. If I may have your menu." She handed it over, the waiter turned and left.

"So, about those documents," If Kyla noticed the staring on Albert's part, she didn't let it show as she started. "Which one do I get to work on?"

"Right," he open the flat file and took out a single sheet of paper which he passed to her. "The briefing."

She skimmed through the document. "This is all?"

"Why? Did you think you were diving into the investigations head-on?"

She shrugged. "Not really. With you, I've learned not to raise my expectations."

He scoffed. "Read the briefing and get back to me with your thoughts. Being a psychologist, I'm sure you don't need me to tell you exactly what I'm looking for."

"I'm a psychologist, not a mind-reader, but I'm sure you'll be searching for patterns, clues, something you've missed…"

"Good. Knock yourself out." he took a sip of his water.

"For that kind of information, though, I'm going to need more than a briefing. I'll need autopsy reports, case files--"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because that isn't your job. Just stick to whatever I'll be giving you to psychoanalyze, and you should be fine."

"Whatever," she mumbled as she flipped the paper over. "It's incomplete."

He leaned forward and assessed the document, which she now held up for him. "It should be in the car. I'll be back."

He got up and left just as the waiter arrived with their meal, then soon departed. Back at the parking lot, Albert tugged open the back door to his rental car and searched among a stack of files in his satchel for the concluding part of the briefing he'd prepared for Kyla.

Search complete, he zipped it and locked the vehicle. Then, in a long and purposeful stride, walked toward the building. A gust of wind accompanied him inside, causing the young women dining towards the entrance, and those at the counter, to stop what they were doing and watch appreciatively as he impatiently rolled back into place a sleeve that had slackened. He carelessly raked his fingers through his windblown hair, then made his way over to where Kyla was waiting.

"Here." he handed over the paper and sat down. "Everything you need to know about the Glasgow Creeks murders is in there."

"I can see that. This is pretty much everything on Limelight News, KZY News, The morning show, and every other television or radio station in Glasgow Creeks."

"Pray tell," she continued. "Did you get someone to type out the 7 am news for me?"

"Why? The information in there isn't good enough for you?"

She drizzled more salad dressing over her meal. "How am I supposed to be of any assistance if all you'll feed me with are crumbs?"

"Let's see how well you do with crumbs, shall we?" He speared lettuce on his fork and glanced up for her answer.

"Fine. How soon do you need a report?"

"Tomorrow. By noon, if possible. If I like the way you think, then I might throw more work your way. But you can quit anytime you wish."

"Wouldn't you love that?"

The waiter reappeared. Again interrupting them. "Have you selected a wine to go with your meal?"

After they made their selection and the waiter left, Albert decided not to continue the argument, although it was better than thinking about that damn kiss again.

"The restaurant is nice. Didn't expect to find a place like this here."

She recognized the words for what they were. A change in topic, but somehow it managed to irk her. "I'm sorry, what were you expecting? Dirt roads, and dilapidated buildings?"

"No. I'm well aware that it's a pretty town. I just….you know what, just forget it. You seem to be in a desperate mood to argue. I'm sure everything I say would come out wrong with you."

"I could say the same thing about you. The sooner you catch the killer and be on your merry way, the better for us all."

"Soon. I'll catch the bastard, make sure he pays, and I'll be out of your hair."

"What makes you think it's a man?"

He shrugged and put down his fork. "More often than not, the serial killer is always a man, but times are changing. Hence, I'm keeping an open mind. It could be anyone, anywhere, who we know or don't know."

~`~