Secrets Never Die (Morgan Dane #5)(68)

Olivia lifted a bare shoulder, reinforcing his assessment. She wore dark jeans, a sleeveless blouse, and yet another pair of skinny-heeled sandals. What was it with this woman and the impractical shoes?

Her phone vibrated, shimmying on the countertop.

“Excuse me. I need to take this call.” Picking up her cell, she walked toward the patio door. “Make yourself at home,” she called over her shoulder. “There’s some black bean and sweet potato stew in the fridge if you’re hungry. We’ll likely miss dinner.”

He watched her out the window. She paced the length of a brick patio, her phone pressed to her ear. Her free hand moved as she spoke, the gestures becoming more animated as her conversation continued. The sky beyond was brewing another storm.

He opened the refrigerator and found the stew in a large glass container. Bowls were easy to find in a glass-fronted cabinet over the dishwasher. He scooped stew and ate it cold.

Olivia walked back into the kitchen. “You didn’t even heat it up.”

“It was good. Thank you.” Sharp rinsed his bowl in the sink, then faced her. “Did you learn anything?”

“I did.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Give me ten minutes.”

“For what?”

“We’re taking a drive.”

We?

“I was only looking for information,” he protested. “Not to involve you in the case.”

She propped both hands on her hips. “If you don’t want to work together, I can go alone. I’d have much better luck without you. You still look like a police officer.”

“This is dangerous.”

“You wanted to pique my interest. You were successful.” She turned toward a hallway that presumably led to her bedroom. “I’m taking a drive. You can come with me or not. It’s up to you.”

She disappeared down the corridor. Sharp heard a door close. This was not how he had envisioned their conversation going. But then, Olivia rarely cooperated with his expectations.

While he waited, Sharp paced her kitchen, trying to think of a good argument to keep her at home. Then he gave up. Saying it was too dangerous for her was not only condescending but senseless. She was the one who had already interviewed the dealers. Olivia had the contacts.

When she returned to the kitchen, she still wore the jeans and sleeveless shirt, but she’d let her hair down. It hung in loose, shiny waves down her back.

His gaze dropped to her leather sandals. “How do you not break an ankle in those skinny heels?”

“Practice.” She smiled. “Are you ready?”

“I am.” Sharp followed her to the front door. They went outside, and she locked up.

“I’ll drive.” She set off for her white Prius without waiting for him to respond.

Sharp hustled to keep up. “I prefer to drive.”

What he meant was that he liked to be in control.

“Too bad.” She pulled a pair of huge sunglasses from a boxy bright-blue purse. “You don’t know where we’re going.” She climbed into her car.

Resigned to letting her boss him around, Sharp slid into the passenger seat. Olivia started the engine and pulled away from the house.

“You’re not going to tell me where we’re going?” he asked.

She considered his question with a twist of her lips. Her eyes narrowed as if she didn’t trust him. “So you can figure out a way to leave me out? I don’t think so. This is my contact and my professional reputation on the line. Also, you would go alone, which would not be a good decision.”

Sharp almost denied the accusation, except that it was true. He would have tried to do exactly that. He didn’t like taking her into a hazardous situation.

“I’ll tell you when we’re closer. For now, there’s nothing to do while I drive. Why don’t you close your eyes? I’ll wake you when we get there.” She glanced over at him. “You still look tired. You were right when you said this would be dangerous. I’ll need you to be alert to watch my back.”

“OK,” Sharp grumbled. Then he must have dozed off because he startled awake, blinking. It took him a moment to remember that he was in the car with Olivia. The traffic was bumper to bumper. “Where are we?”

“I-87,” Olivia said from the driver’s seat. “There was an accident. Traffic is slow, so I let you sleep.”

“Thanks.” Sharp rubbed his eyes.

“We’re almost there.” Olivia smiled.

“And where is that? I-87 runs into New York City, not Newark.” Sharp looked for landmarks.

“Joe is not in Newark. He is in Albany.”

“Albany?” Sharp was surprised. Albany was barely an hour from Scarlet Falls. Joe was very close to Tina. Sharp texted Lance to let him know where he was headed.

“Yes. I had a call while you were sleeping. My contact gave me some disturbing details about Joe Martin. People are still very much afraid of him, even though he’s in his sixties. He was always known for his brutality, and his time in prison didn’t change that. My contact said it was as if Joe’s power could reach right out of prison and grab you by the throat.”

“Wonderful,” Sharp said. “Let’s hope he isn’t in a bad mood tonight.”