I Can See You by Karen Rose Read Free Book Online

sure,” Eve said dryly. Then she shrugged.
“Besides, I’m not wasting my time playing computer games. Shadowland’s for my
thesis, and you know it.”
    Sal’s eyes stopped twinkling. “Exactly my point. Even
when you play a game, you’re working. When was the last time you went on a
date?”
    Five years, eleven months, and seven days ago . That the amount of time should come back to her so
quickly, after all this time, was… terrifying.
    “I thought so,” Sal said quietly when she said
nothing. “You’ve been under so much stress lately. This project of yours is
putting dark circles under your eyes. I want you to take some time off. Take a
vacation. Go to Florida and get some sun.”
    Eve tossed the ice bag into the sink and started
mixing a martini, the usual drink of the next customer in line. “Vacations take
money, Sal. I don’t have any.”
    “I’ll loan you some,” he said simply. “Tell me what
you need.”
    Abruptly she put the shaker down, her heart in her
throat. “Damn, I hate it when you’re nice. Why can’t you be a mean boss?”
Swallowing back what would have been embarrassing tears, she patted his beefy
shoulder. “Keep your money. I’m fine.”
    He shook his head. “You’re not fine. You’re worried. I
see it in your eyes.”
    She finished the martini and started with the next
order. “I wish everyone would stop looking into my eyes,” she muttered,
Callie’s observation about Noah Webster still fresh. She looked for a subject
change and found it in the magazine Callie had left behind. “Jack Phelps was in
here tonight, but he left before I could ask him to sign the MSP cover.”
    “I heard it was more like he got called out,” Sal
remarked mildly. “By Webster.”
    She turned and stared at his profile. “How did you
know that?”
    His sideways glance was almost amused. “I know what
goes on in my own bar, Eve. I’m surprised it’s taken Webster this long. There
was a pool, you know—how long Web would put up with Phelps before he requested
a transfer or cleaned Jack’s clock.”
    The mental image of such an altercation left Eve
disturbingly aroused. “Who won?”
    “Nobody. Webster’s outlasted all of our predictions.
Man’s either a saint or a fool.” He slanted another glance her way, this one
annoyed. “Maybe both.”
    Eve thought of the parting words Noah had uttered with
grim resignation, more a good-bye than a thank-you. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t
think he’s coming back.”
    Which was for the best. She didn’t have time for
anything more than work, school, and her Fantasy Island computer game. Not
true . It wasn’t the time she didn’t have. It was the heart. And various
other internal organs that made a huge difference.
    Sal sighed. “I’m sorry, honey.”
    She made herself smile. “Don’t be.” She poured the
martini and reached for an olive, relieved to find the canister empty. She
needed a minute to herself. For just a moment or two, she needed to hide.
“We’re out of olives. Hold the fort. I’ll get them.”
    Sunday, February 21, 9:10 p.m.
    Finally . The
Hat Squad finally knew they had a homicide. It had taken them long enough.
Three homicides, carefully staged. At least they’d seen it with Martha
Brisbane.
    He hadn’t realized how impatient he’d grow, waiting
for them to engage. But as frustrating as the wait had been, the Hat Squad’s
ineptitude better furthered his goal—to see them humiliated, degraded, their
stature in the community obliterated.
    To see stripped away that infuriating self-importance
they wore along with their badges and guns. And their hats. He wanted each of
those hat-wearing, knuckle-scraping Neanderthals to see themselves for what
they really were. Worthless failures.
    Which was precisely why he’d staged these murders as
suicides.
    He’d known they’d miss the first victim, perhaps even
the second. That they’d be so eager to close a suicide that they’d miss the
clues he’d left behind. He