Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(56)
“Why, thank you,” she said, sounding surprised. “Sorry I took so long.”
“You didn’t. I only just got here. And helping a lady with her chair is rule number twelve in my grandmother’s Rules of a Gentleman.”
“I like your grandmother. She evidently had a lot to do with your raising.”
“My dad died when I was eleven, and we went to live with my mother’s parents.”
“We?”
“My mom and brother, Eric.”
“Eric . . . Eric Raines, the FBI agent?”
So Maggie knew his brother, which shouldn’t be a surprise. He masked a stab of jealousy with a smile. “The one and only.”
“Do I detect a hint of the green—”
“No, you don’t. Eric is great at his job, and he’s a good brother.” There was no green-eyed monster.
“Then . . . you’re close?”
He cocked his head. “Why the third degree?”
“Probably because I’m a defense attorney, and I’m used to digging into people’s lives to find out what makes them tick.” The corner of her mouth twitched. “I especially like to grill cops.”
He’d been on the other end of her grilling, and it wasn’t pleasant. “Why did you become a defense attorney?”
She’d been leaning toward him, but now she sat up straighter, putting distance between them. “It’s a long story, and I see our waitress coming.”
Maggie Starr didn’t like having the tables turned. They probably should stick to work-related conversation, anyway. At least for a while. Besides, he knew the answer to the question he asked. Evidently, her brother with his wrongful conviction and then death was a sensitive subject.
The waitress set their water down and took out her pad and said, “Are you ready to order?”
David raised his gaze to Maggie. “Do you have a favorite here?”
She tilted her head toward the waitress. “Do you have the fifteen-layer lasagna today?”
The waitress, who was barely old enough to serve alcoholic drinks, smiled. “Yes, ma’am. And it is very good.”
“Then that’s what I’d like, with a house salad and a glass of unsweetened tea.”
The waitress looked at David, and he shrugged. “Sounds good to me, only sweet tea.”
After the waitress left, he asked, “Did you talk with Jimmy Shelton?”
“Yes. The warden allowed us to Skype, and we had a good first meeting—I recognized him from when I lived in the house with Stephanie and he lived next door, even though his appearance has changed quite a bit.” Maggie blinked and looked past him.
David turned to see where she was looking. A man who seemed vaguely familiar walked toward them, wearing a sport coat and a smile that could only be for her. David glanced at her face and found it unreadable.
The man stopped at their table. “Maggie! I’m surprised to see you here after you told me you’d be working this evening.”
“Hello, Jared. I am working.” She palmed her hand and said, “Jared Donovan, Lieutenant David Raines.”
Donovan held out his hand to David, and he half rose to shake it. “Good to meet you.”
“Raines?” Donovan said, puzzling. “I’ve seen that name recently in the newspaper.”
“Probably my brother, Eric,” David replied. “He usually gets all the publicity.”
“No, I believe it has something to do with a cold case.”
“Then, it was me. I’m the head of the Cold Case Unit.” He didn’t recall the article Donovan referenced. He wished he could place where he’d seen the man. Not around his usual haunts, for sure. Judging by the coat and the diamond ring on his left hand, they didn’t travel in the same circles.
While David rarely noticed clothes, he recognized cashmere when he saw it. The jacket fit the man like it’d been custom made for him, and he wore it with the ease of a man used to expensive clothes.
Donovan glanced at the empty chair beside Maggie. “Do you mind? Only until your food arrives, of course.”
“I was just about to invite you,” Maggie said. “Maybe you can help us with a case we’re working on.”
David masked his surprise as Donovan sat in the chair. He waited for her to lead the way in this conversation.
Donovan leaned toward her, clasping her hand. “I’d rather talk about you letting me walk you home.” Suddenly he glanced toward David. “Don’t mean to intrude, but she did say it was work, so this isn’t a date, right?”
Maggie answered for him, slipping her hand from Donovan’s. “No, it isn’t a date, but how did you know I walked here?”
“You always walk, and by the time you finish eating, it’ll be getting dark. Maybe you feel safe downtown, but you don’t need to walk home alone after the sun goes down.”
So the man knew her pretty well. He probably even knew how Madeline got changed to Maggie rather than Maddie.
“If I feel I need an escort, David is here. And he has a gun,” she said with a polite smile.
Donovan pressed his hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
While he appeared to be joking, David detected a slight reddening of his neck. Donovan wasn’t used to being turned down. Was Maggie playing hard to get?