The Fidelity Files (Jennifer Hunter #1)(41)

Which meant I would have to come up with another angle.

He pinned my license onto his clipboard and shined the flashlight into my open window. "The reason I pulled you over tonight, Miss Hunter, is because..."

I squinted into the light. "I know, I know. I was speeding. I'm very sorry." My voice was apologetic. Genuine and free of all traces of mocking.

"You were going pretty fast," he pointed out, flipping open his ticket book.

I subtly cocked my head to the side in order to get a glance at the pen he was pulling out from his shirt pocket.

Bingo.

My angle.

I lightened the tone of my voice considerably. "You know, you look really familiar. Have I seen you before?"

He was highly unamused. "No." He began to copy down the information from my license.

I pretended to rack my brain, all the while watching his pen fly across the page out of the corner of my eye. "Yes! You're trying to change careers, aren't you? My colleague is handling your file at Lex Harrison."

His face lit up. "You work with Mona Pietrik?"

"Sure do. I remember seeing you in there the other day." I giggled girlishly. "You're the one with the new baby, right?"

I could see his whole exterior soften, and I knew I was on the right track. Nearly home free. Or restaurant free, rather. The pieces were all fitting together: new baby, new lifestyle, new, safer career that would assure he was home in time for dinner every night... and without a bullet wound in his head.

"Yes, that was me."

I smiled like I was greeting an old friend. "I had no idea you were a policeman."

He sighed. "Hopefully not for long. Writing speeding tickets is definitely not something I want to do forever."

I groaned. "I know what you mean. Before I started working in the career counseling office I had this awful job collecting used towels at the gym. I came home every day smelling like other people's BO!"

He laughed aloud. "That's horrible!"

"Tell me about it." I paused. "Well, Mona is excellent at her job. I'm sure she'll find you something perfect!"

"Thanks," he said, ripping the half-written ticket from his booklet and crumpling it up in his hands. "Will you tell her I said hi?"

"Of course I will!"

He handed me back my driver's license and insurance card and closed his ticket book with a friendly wink. "Have a good night... and slow down out there."



TEN MINUTES later I pulled into the parking lot of a cheesy Italian chain restaurant in Westlake Village. I was the last one to arrive. Hannah yelled out my name and came running halfway across the restaurant to greet me. I hugged her thin frame close to me and stroked her curly blond hair as she buried her head against my collarbone.

"Hi, honey! Happy birthday!"

"Thanks!" Hannah said, giving me a squeeze before prancing back to the table and reclaiming her seat at the far end. As I followed after her, I saw my mom seated at the opposite end. I paused for a moment, pretending to take in the lively walls of the restaurant, which were covered in photographs of people I didn't know but somehow thought that I should.

In all actuality I was mustering up the courage to talk to her. I wasn't sure how much she knew about my dad's engagement, and frankly, it placed me in quite a bit of a catch-22... again. I certainly wasn't going to be the one to tell her, because I could care less about what my dad did these days. But I also didn't want to be the recipient of any more details than I already knew. He was getting married. That was plenty. But my mother wasn't the kind of person to store away her emotions. And ever since the divorce two and a half years ago, with my dad bitterly cut out of the picture, I'd been the involuntary beneficiary of the manifestations of those emotions.

And I wasn't sure I could handle another eruption tonight. Not with everything going on in my own life. Not when I had to store away so many emotions of my own.

Just as I'd done for the past sixteen years.

To protect her.

I pointed at a framed black-and-white photograph of a heavyset woman holding two watermelons in front of where her breasts would be and offered a small laugh. "That's cute," I said as I walked over to my mom and pecked her on the cheek. "Hi, Mom."

She reached her arms over her head and hugged me awkwardly around the neck. "Hi, Jenny. Did you get my last e-mail with the botany IQ test?"

"Yes, I got it on my phone. Sorry, I've been busy. Haven't had time to take it yet." Ever since my mother discovered the Internet a few months ago, she's basically turned into a fifteen-year-old Web junkie, spending the majority of her time doing online personality tests, downloading music and TV shows, sharing photographs, talking in chat rooms until the wee hours of the night. I think she even mentioned something about instant messaging a few weeks ago. Just the thought of my mother online talking to strangers around the country about her favorite lasagna recipe was too farfetched for me to even process.

I pulled out the chair next to her.

"No, here!" I heard Hannah shout from the other side of the table. "I saved you a seat over here!"

I turned to my mom and flashed her a look that not only expressed my apologies but also said, "What can you do? She's twelve." She smiled back and nodded her acceptance.