16. Diem

Ever since Tallus’s phone call, I’d been pacing the office, mulling over the whole convoluted case, trying to figure out what the fuck I was investigating.

Faye had come seeking answers about her cheating husband. Fine. Great. We’d looked into Olivia, the woman we were sure was Noah’s mistress, only to discover a breadcrumb trail of emails suggesting Olivia may have been covering for a friend’s infidelity.

Beth.

But there was a snag. The elusive bastard. Who was he? Why had there been emails from him included in the discussions surrounding Noah? More importantly, his email referred to a they. They don’t know. Who the fuck was they? Didn’t know what? About the affair? About something else?

I stopped at my desk and popped a few squares of gum from a pack. My skin itched, and my fingers were aching to do something. Taking up the fidget spinner, I whirled it around and around as I continued making tracks on the shit-brown carpet underfoot. Back and forth.

We’d poked into Beth’s private life and found more connections to the elusive bastard. We’d followed her to a secret meeting that had lasted hours at a sketchy motel. We’d witnessed a shady-looking man go out of his way to slip into the darkness after their meeting ended.

And now Beth was dead.

Maybe suicide. Likely murder.

Not an accident or natural causes.

“Fuck. What the hell is going on?”

A knock at the office door prompted me to stop pacing. I stilled and stared at the wooden surface as though I had X-ray vision and could see who was on the other side.

It was shy of six, so it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. It was Tallus. It had to be Tallus. There was no keeping him away. He’d slithered so far under my skin he was like a new tattoo. Still fresh. Still stinging and sensitive.

Permanent.

Beads of sweat speckled my forehead as a second knock sounded. I was launched back in time to Friday night. A new wave of embarrassment slapped me in the face. It had been yet another humiliating exchange, except that time I’d been sober and remembered every single part.

“I know you’re in there, Guns. I saw the Jeep in the garage across the street. Open up. Remember what I said about persistence? Try me.”

I’d told him not to come. I’d told him I’d handle it. I’d growled and snapped and bared my teeth, but he’d laughed it off. This was Tallus. He was unshakable.

I knew he would show up, yet instead of racing out the door the second our phone call had ended, I’d stuck around.

It was because of Tallus that I’d changed my clothes six times in the past hour—and still wasn’t satisfied.

It was because of Tallus that I’d spent twenty minutes doing the deep breathing exercises Dr. Peterson had taught me to use during times of stress.

It was because of Tallus and our Friday night encounter that I hadn’t slept in three nights.

He knocked again and tried the doorknob. It was locked.

“Diem, I swear to god. Open up. You knew I was coming. This isn’t a surprise, and you can’t avoid me. I’m helping. Like it or not.”

Relenting, I opened the door.

There he was. Tallus Domingo in all his glory. Tallus Domingo, looking as outstanding as ever in a pop-rocks-pink shirt and a firecracker tie with explosions of purple, navy, and silver throughout. His dark-framed glasses accentuated his bedroom eyes and sultry smirk. His cocked hip spoke of an attitude I could never emulate. He was sure and confident. Well-spoken and vibrant. He was sin and salvation combined.

I didn’t know where to put myself or how to act. I was six and a half feet of awkward muscle and meat.

I was not worthy.

He studied my obvious discomfort and tsked. “Poor baby. Still not over it, huh?”

He shoved his way into the office as though he belonged there. He owned the space, seeping his personality into every crevice, marking the territory like a lion. His musk oozed under my skin and sank into my veins.

Tallus Domingo was becoming a huge problem.

I should never have crossed lines with him once, never mind twice.

“I have a present for you.” Tallus dropped a shoulder bag onto the desk and rooted inside. When he found what he was looking for, he tossed it in my direction.

Instinctively reacting, I caught a red rubber ball in my palm. It was weighted with what felt like sand. “What is this?”

“A stress ball, and since you’re a literal ball of stress, I figured you could use it. My mother bought it for me when I was a teenager, and since she’s a pack rat, I found it in a box in her basement when I went to her place for dinner on Sunday night.”

I stared from the ball to Tallus, confused.

“Squeeze it, Guns. Put all your aggression into desecrating the thing. Trust me, it helps.”

I tightened my fist, still confused.

“There you go. Do that over and over, and maybe you’ll feel less inclined to put your fist through Sean Rowell’s face tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Sean Rowell. Beth’s husband. Remember him? The man with a penchant for putting his hands on his wife. Keep up, cuddle bear. I think it’s time we do a little sneaky-peeky into Mr. Domestic Violence himself, don’t you?”

“Sneaky what?”

Tallus chuckled. “Get your coat. It’s chilly.”

“It’s June. It’s too warm for a coat.”

“Not by the lake after sundown, it isn’t, and dear old Sean is attending a candlelight vigil for his wife tonight at the harbor front.”

I frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Olivia posted it on her Facebook page. What have you been doing all day? This is your case, and I shouldn’t be a leg ahead of you. I figured we might want to be there since it could bring in people who were close to Beth, including her killer—if she didn’t kill herself. The elusive bastard might show up, and we still don’t know anything about him. Plus, we can monitor Sean. He’s top of my suspect list. This has gone far beyond an affair. Something weird is going on, and I want to know what. Why are you staring at me like that?”

“We aren’t partners.”

“No, but you need me. Admit it. You’re kind of a floundering wreck otherwise.”

“I work alone.”

“Not anymore you don’t. Besides, I’m a people person. In this line of work, you need at least some social skills. Coat, D, or you’ll be cold.”

Reluctantly, I found my coat and fedora, hanging the former over my arm and sticking the latter on my head, casting a dark shadow across my face.

“You’re strange,” Tallus said, scanning me top to toe.

“I know. Go.”

Chuckling, Tallus aimed for the door and headed into the hallway. “PS. I think Kitty knows we’re fucking.”

I tripped over my feet and cursed when I bumped into the door frame.

When Tallus glanced back, humor shining in his eyes, I growled, “Stop fucking talking.”

His laughter followed him down the hallway.

***

Tallus insisted we stop at a drive-through for food since he was hungry. Then he insisted I pay for his meal since he deserved compensation for free labor. I submitted without argument, unable to voice anything resembling an objection, still stumbling to keep up with this man who was taking over my life.

When Tallus requested I detour to a coffee shop so he could get a latte to go with his meal, I went, ordering him a peanut butter cookie to go with it.

He smirked when I handed him the paper cup and brown treat bag.

“Dessert,” I mumbled.

“You really are a cuddle bear.”

I frowned and pulled back onto the road. “Don’t call me that.”

“Kitty started it, and I don’t think you hate it.”

Tallus was a wrecking ball. His presence leveled any attempt I made at organized thought. He made me tongue-tied and stupid, which meant I growled a lot under my breath, earning more teasing. My sheer lack of control in Tallus’s presence astounded me, yet I couldn’t change it. I couldn’t tell him no or shove him off—or if I did, I couldn’t make it stick.

We reached the harbor front long before sunset. I found a parking spot near where Tallus claimed they were holding the vigil.

We ate sandwiches from a pita joint he’d insisted was amazing and stared at the waterfront in the distance. I’d ordered a Dr Pepper with my meal, but it was a fountain drink and too watery and flat for my liking. Tallus must have noticed my disappointment and offered me a sip of his latte, which I refused.

“It’s good. Are you sure?”

“I prefer my coffee black, not full of fancy whatever-the-fuck they put in those.”

“Boring.” He sipped and hummed with pleasure, a noise I tried hard to ignore. A noise that went straight to my groin.

“So, what do you think of all this?” Tallus crumpled the empty paper wrapping from his sandwich and tossed it inside the take-out bag.

I grunted and shrugged.

“Words, D. Let’s not play Neanderthal tonight. It’s exhausting.”

“I don’t know.” The more I considered the possibilities surrounding Beth, Noah, and our unknown guy, the more confused I was. “This case was supposed to be a cheating husband, but I’m not sure what to think anymore. It feels…”

“Like there’s something darker under the surface?”

“Yeah.”

Tallus broke off a piece of cookie and offered me a bite. I declined, and he popped it into his mouth. “The fact that Noah committed suicide and spent the months prior arming himself against a threat told me long ago this was a much murkier case than how it presented.”

I nodded, grinding my teeth and cracking my knuckles.

Tallus handed me the rubber ball I’d tossed on the dash. “Squeeze.”

“I don’t need a stupid ball.”

“If you don’t squeeze the ball, you’ll need a dentist. Now squeeze.”

I refused.

Tallus made a sound of annoyance but relented and used the ball himself. “What if the cheating husband is nothing more than a surface layer? What if there is something far uglier underneath that Faye didn’t know about?”

I flashed a glance at Tallus. “Like?”

He pursed his lips and made a clicking noise with his tongue. “Like… What if the elusive bastard is a pimp, selling girls to men like Noah. It would explain his involvement. It would explain why Beth went to see him and appeared close to him. Maybe Sean was growing suspicious of his wife’s extracurricular activities. Maybe he threatened Noah. Maybe the pimp did. Maybe Sean reported something to the police, which is why they went by and talked to Noah that one time. In the end, maybe Noah feared exposure or arrest and took his own life. As for Beth, if she threatened to talk, then the elusive bastard could have done her in, covering up his slimy business. Or Sean had enough of her skanking around and killed her.”

“That’s a lot of maybes and what-ifs.” I stole the ball from Tallus’s hand and squeezed it.

He chuckled. “I don’t hear you suggesting anything. Hell, Olivia could be one of the elusive bastard’s girls too. She’s gotten scared recently and hired bodyguards. You said so. Remember how one of those news articles was about prostitutes and assault? It loosely adds up. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Tallus was reaching, but it kind of added up. Not enough that I would bet money on it, but I had to give him credit for thinking outside the box. I grunted in agreement. It was the best I could give him.

“Doyle asked us to pass along any information we find.” Tallus eyed me. “Will you do that?”

I made a face and shrugged. I hated cooperating with the detectives at headquarters, and it annoyed me that Tallus had so bluntly exposed our case to them. My case to them.

“Sharing is caring, D. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?”

I didn’t respond. Tallus didn’t want to know what I’d learned from my mother.

The evening sun sat low on the horizon, casting a yellowy-orange hue across the lake. The slosh of water hitting the shoreline and the steady hum of the city played background music to our conversation. I’d parked in a secluded lot near a massive concrete building with tinted windows that didn’t start until the second floor. Anyone looking out would see the top of the Jeep, not us inside. Although there were people in the distance, cars passing on the street a few dozen feet behind us, and bustling pedestrians rushing along the sidewalks a few hundred feet away, we were mostly in our own secluded bubble.

The heavily tinted windows in the Jeep created its own private atmosphere. I’d detailed it that way for a reason. It was easier to trail people when they couldn’t easily see inside the Wrangler, but also because I liked the concealment it provided.

The weight of Tallus’s gaze warmed the side of my face, but I kept my focus on the long contrail of a passing airplane in the distance. It vanished behind a low cloud before reappearing again.

The soft brush of his fingers on my thigh made me jump. I dashed a quick glance in Tallus’s direction, but his mischievous smirk made me look away again.

“Relax, Guns. I’m not a threat. Squeeze the ball.”

I ground my teeth but couldn’t relax, not with his hand on me. Not with his long, dainty fingers massaging my upper thigh and edging closer to my groin. They didn’t make contact, but they came close enough to stir my blood. The air in my lungs blistered with a held breath, so I released it carefully. It took a minute, but I calmed down and focused on how good it felt.

“Do you hate it when I touch you?”

“What the fuck kind of question is that?” I spat, unable to curb my agitation. Hate it? Was he blind? Couldn’t he see what he did to me?

“It was an honest question. You tense every time I get too close. You flinch. Do you hate it?”

“Do I look like I fucking hate it?” Christ, my dick was already pressing uncomfortably against my pants.

Tallus chuckled and withdrew his hand, and I cursed myself six ways from Sunday for my inability to communicate properly.

“I honestly can’t tell with you, Diem.”

I growled quietly in my throat, wishing I had the words to ask him to put his hand back, to explain how his touch set me on fire. Couldn’t he see how undone I was in his presence? How big of a floundering mess I became? Didn’t he realize how out of my league he was?

I squeezed the rubber ball until I threatened its vitality, until my fingers ached.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the sky and clouds turned to a smear of pastel watercolors. It was beautiful and calming. The roar inside my head quieted. The painful tension I held in my muscles eased. The air moved easier through my lungs.

I lessened my attack on the rubber ball and watched as the sky melted and blended from pale pink to a deeper rose to an aubergine as night encroached. My therapist always preached about finding beauty in the world and ensuring I stopped to enjoy it. The sunset felt like one of those times.

Twice, I glanced at Tallus to see if he was as taken by the scenery. I couldn’t read his face. He seemed locked in thought. Maybe I’d upset him. I should say something. Point out the landscape and talk about how the lake sparkled with the day’s end.

The words sounded stupid in my head, so I didn’t.

The colors slowly faded from the world. Streetlights clicked on, dampening the effect of the sunset.

“Look,” Tallus said, breaking the fragile tranquility I’d found. “I think those people are here for the vigil.” He pointed at a group of men and women walking together toward the waterfront. Their body language was heavy, an encumbrance that spoke of loss and grief.

More people arrived shortly after until a crowd gathered. Olivia showed up, husband and children in tow. I scanned but saw no trace of the bodyguard who’d been following her around all the time. Had she finally ditched him?

About two dozen people had gathered when Sean appeared, accompanied by an elderly couple and his children. The youngest boy rode on the hip of the older gentleman, cuddled against his neck. The woman held hands with the other child. Sean walked alone, several feet behind, hands stuffed in the pockets of a light jacket, chin aimed at the ground.

I sat straighter, nodding toward their small group. “There.”

Tallus looked. “His parents you think?”

“Probably.”

“Come on. It’s dark enough we should be able to blend in.”

“I don’t blend.”

Tallus examined me in the dark cab of the Jeep, a quirk in his lips. “No, you don’t. Come with me anyway.”

I reached for the door handle, but Tallus touched my arm. I tried hard not to react. “Don’t freak out when I get chummy.”

“Chummy?”

“I’m going to touch you. We should act like a couple. Friends of the deceased, here to celebrate her life. Is that okay?”

I considered, then offered a clipped nod.

Tallus reached into the backseat where I’d tossed the trench coat and handed it to me. “Wear this. It hides some of your bulk.”

We got out, and I pulled the coat on. Tallus met me around the front of the Wrangler and linked his arm with mine. “Are we good?”

I grunted in affirmation.

Tallus cleared his throat and cocked a brow. “Are we good?” he repeated.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

But it was not okay. Touching Tallus scrambled my brain, and I needed to think.

We wandered to the outskirts of the growing crowd. Olivia was moving amongst the people, passing out stubby candles and books of matches to anyone who had come without. I scanned faces, looking for anyone familiar or suspicious. Tallus accepted two candles on our behalf when Olivia got to us.

I kept my chin lowered, the fedora casting a dark shadow over my face. People always noticed a man my size, but I didn’t want them to register my features and remember me.

Sean stood apart from the elderly couple who I thought must be his parents. The kids didn’t gravitate to their father and instead huddled close to the only two adults paying them attention. Sean continuously checked his phone. Once or twice, he tapped out messages, gaze lifting occasionally to look around. There was no sign of the elusive bastard unless he was lingering out of sight.

I scanned the perimeter of the gathering. Pedestrians not involved in the vigil looked on from a distance, but none wore a paunchy belly or a bald head. None of them rang alarm bells.

Before long, Olivia hushed the crowd and commenced. “Thank you for coming this evening. We’re here to celebrate the life of one of my dearest friends. Beth Evelyn Rowell. Beth and I met many years ago in college, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. We got married around the same time, were pregnant together, and we raised our kids together.” Olivia sniffled. “I can’t believe she’s gone…”

Tallus slinked closer, his arm wrapping around my waist as he glued his body to my side. His cologne infiltrated my nose. Angling his head to bring his lips closer to my ear, he whispered, “There’s a guy watching from over where we parked. Long dark coat with a popped collar. Hat. I can’t see his face. He’s been standing there the whole time. Do you see him?”

I subtly followed Tallus’s gaze. The man he was referring to was over a hundred yards away, huddled against the side of the building where the shadows were deeper and darker. I couldn’t make out details. Not his height, weight, or ethnicity. He was obscured on purpose and definitely watching the gathering.

I grunted.

“Give me your keys.” Tallus patted my chest in a far too familiar way. “I’m returning to the Jeep and acting like I forgot something. I’ll see if I can get a better look at him.”

“No.”

Tallus huffed. “Give me the freaking keys, Guns.”

“No,” I growled. “We don’t know what this is about. We don’t know who he is or what he wants. For all we know—”

“I appreciate your macho stance but knock it off. I’m not a damsel in distress.” Tallus displayed his hand. The look on his face brooked no argument. “Keys.”

I gave him the stupid keys, a rumble growing inside my chest.

“And stop growling. You’re not a bear. Keep an eye on everyone here.” He was about to walk away and pivoted back. “See? This is why you need a partner. We can cover more area.”

I narrowed my eyes, and he chuckled.

“But seriously. Do you have ibuprofen or acetaminophen in the Jeep?”

I frowned. “No. Why?”

“No reason. I have a shadow of a headache coming on.” He waved a hand around his head. “It’s nothing. Too much caffeine today. I should have known better than to drink that latte.” He grinned and winked.

Tallus wandered off, hips swinging, feigning interest in his phone as he returned to the Jeep. I stared at the figure by the building with a bad feeling in my gut. My muscles tensed, and I was ready to spring into action if the man so much as moved toward Tallus or looked at him the wrong way.

The man clocked Tallus’s approach when he was less than thirty yards from the Jeep. Acting nonchalant, Tallus put his phone to his ear. Although I couldn’t hear, I knew he was pretending to talk to someone. Casual as always. No fear.

The man in the shadows focused on Tallus, and my skin tingled. I shifted my weight. The guy stood within ten yards of the Jeep. Too close for comfort. If he was a threat, if he moved, I would never make it in time to intervene.

“Motherfucker,” I muttered, moving to the edge of the gathering, forgoing my job of keeping an eye on the crowd. Alert for signs of trouble, I clenched my fists, coiling my muscles so they were ready to spring.

When Tallus opened the passenger door of the Wrangler, the man’s attention shifted to somewhere in the distance. Confused, I followed his gaze and saw Sean hustling away from the vigil, jamming his cell phone into a pocket. He seemed in a hurry and vanished around the next corner before I could properly piece together what was happening.

What the fuck?Where was he going?

I flipped my attention back to Tallus, who was still pretending to chat on the phone as he returned to the gathering, the empty latte cup in hand as though he was enjoying a hot drink.

The man from the shadows was gone. My heart skipped a beat, and I whipped my gaze left and right, certain he was sneaking up behind Tallus from somewhere out of sight.

I couldn’t find him. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Shit.”

I spun, scanning the gathering, the streets, the harbor front, and the parking lots in the distance. No one fit his vague description. Everyone at the vigil held lit candles in the air while Olivia recited poetry. Tears rolled down several people’s faces. Sean’s kids were crowded around the older couples’ legs.

Then, the group broke out in song.

Where had the guy gone?

“God fucking dammit.” I broke free from the vigil and took long strides toward Tallus, who was flawlessly acting a scene, unaware we’d lost both the stranger by the building and Sean in a matter of seconds.

Tallus frowned when he saw me barreling toward him. His steps faltered.

I snagged his arm as I raced passed, spinning him toward the Jeep, nearly hauling him off his feet with the momentum.

“Whoa, Guns. Easy. What the hell?” Tallus almost lost his phone but saved it at the last second, stuffing it in his coat pocket.

“Hurry up. Sean left. I want to see if I can find him and follow him.”

“What?” Tallus glanced back at the vigil. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know. Around the corner up there. And the guy near the building noticed him and fucking vanished while my back was turned.”

“He what?” Tallus whipped his head around, stumbling to keep up since I hadn’t let go of his arm and was practically dragging him along at top speed. “But he was there a second ago. I saw him.”

“And now he’s gone.”

“Where’d he go?”

“No fucking idea.”

We got into the Jeep and scanned again to see if I could see the man who’d been nearby. No sign of him. I decided to go after Sean and revved the engine, throwing it in drive.

“Did you get a look at the other guy?” I asked as I took the corner where Sean had vanished.

“Kind of. White. Forties. He was covered. Wore a silly hat like you, so I couldn’t get his hair color.”

“It’s not silly.”

“It’s a little silly. No one wears fedoras anymore. Well, except you and that guy.”

I growled.

“Anyhow, I’ve never seen him before. He was dressed nicely. Black trousers. Shiny black dress shoes. Seemed professional. I thought maybe you guys were part of the same fedoras-are-us club. I didn’t ask for his card.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m not sure I value your opinion on funny. Do you ever laugh? Scratch that. Do you ever smile?”

“Stop talking. Look.” In the distance, I recognized Sean’s sleek BMW as it left a public parking structure and turned onto the street.

“That’s Sean’s car.” Tallus pointed. “Mr. Money Bags.”

“Yep.”

“Where’s he going?”

“Dunno.”

I kept a tail on Sean, leaving a few car lengths between us. Traffic was steady enough I didn’t want to lose him. He weaved through the busy downtown streets, and a few times, the stoplights didn’t work in my favor, and he got ahead of me. Then, a couple blocks down, I picked him up again when he stopped at a red.

Tallus shifted, drawing my attention. I quickly glanced in his direction, catching him massaging the side of his neck and flexing his jaw with a pained expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Eyes forward, Guns, or we’ll lose him.”

Sean drove for fifteen minutes. In a shadier part of town, he pulled off to the side of the road in a no-parking zone. I cursed and drove past, doing the same a short way down the block, taking over a loading zone.

Tallus spun in his seat, and I angled the rearview to look behind us. My line of sight was obstructed by other parked cars.

“I can’t see anything,” Tallus said, still wincing with a mark of pain on his face.

“Stay here.” I got out of the Jeep and slipped between the Wrangler’s back bumper and the car parked behind me, poking my head out to get a better look. Streetlights cast artificial pools of yellow over the pavement and up the sides of buildings, but I didn’t see Sean or his car from where I stood.

A second later, as I contemplated my next move, Tallus appeared, standing boldly in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Get back in the Jeep. What the fuck are you doing?”

“Shh.” He dug his phone out and acted as though he was busy with it as he marched toward where Sean had parked. No compunction. Tallus being Tallus.

“Christ.” I poked my head out to see what was happening. Tallus stopped two dozen feet down, leaning against the side of a building, still acting engrossed in his phone. Farther along, Sean was out of his car, talking to a man in business dress.

The man carried a briefcase and, at one point, removed something from the case and handed it to Sean. A manila envelope.

Sean dug something from a pocket and gave it to the man. It was smaller, but I couldn’t make out what it was. The man pocketed it. They shook hands, and the guy in business attire headed down the street in the opposite direction. Sean peeked inside the bulky envelope and returned to his car.

Tallus bounced off the wall and walked at a fast clip to the Jeep. “Hurry up, Guns. He’s leaving. Get in.”

I barely had my seatbelt done up when Sean’s BMW passed me on the left. I pulled into traffic and was on his tail again.

“Did you hear them talk?” I asked.

“No. They were too quiet.”

“Who was the guy?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he give him?”

“I don’t know. An envelope. Sean gave the guy a piece of paper or something. I couldn’t see. I got a few pictures. I’ll send them to you.”

“Dammit.” It wasn’t good enough.

“I’m sorry. I tried.” Tallus leaned his head against the side window and fiddled with his phone. I felt mine vibrate in my coat pocket. “Sent.” Then he stayed motionless, squinting at the BMW’s taillights.

Something was wrong. Tallus’s vibe was off.

Sean ended up back at the harbor front and the vigil.

I parked in the same spot as before, and we watched him return to his parents and children. A quick scan didn’t turn up the other man we’d been curious about. Whatever had happened to him, I had a feeling we would never know.

The night had been a bust. We had more questions than answers. When I turned to Tallus, I found him on his phone, a concentrated look on his face, a pinch in his brow. He’d shoved his glasses to the top of his head and was massaging the side of his neck again.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to sort this shit out.” It was the first time I’d heard anything resembling bite in his tone. Tallus was always calm and collected.

“It’s not your job.”

“Shut up, Diem.”

I clamped my jaw and watched him. For all the times I was an asshole, Tallus rarely got snarky. The neck massage continued. Every so often, he moved his jaw from side to side. His face remained strained.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m getting a bad headache.”

“You should put your glasses back on.”

“It’s not the glasses.”

I glanced at his phone screen, trying to decipher what he was doing. He had maps pulled up.

“What are you looking for?”

“I’m seeing what’s in that area, so maybe we can figure out who that guy was. He came from inside this building”—Tallus motioned to the location he’d pulled up on his phone—“but the building is home to about fifteen businesses, including two cafés.”

Tallus’s tone was still off, and since I wasn’t good at conversing on a good day, I left him alone, unsure what to say. The vigil ended. People wandered away. A few hugged, and several more stuck around to chat. Sean, his parents, and the kids left.

I stayed alert, hoping to see our mystery man again, but I didn’t. When Olivia departed with her husband and kids, the rest of the gathered crowd left as well.

Tallus shut off his phone with a huff and turned to face me. “What do we do now?”

“I should take you back to your car.”

“No. I want to help. Stop dismissing me.”

“You said your head hurts. Maybe you should rest.”

“It’s fine. If you dump me back at my car, you’ll keep working this case without me, and I want to be part of it. What do we do now?”

I’d been pondering the next step since we returned from trailing Sean. “We need to figure out who the elusive bastard is and how he connects to Beth, Olivia, and Noah. I get the feeling he could provide answers.”

“How do we find him?”

I’d been puzzling over that question myself. There was one way, and it might not yield results, but we wouldn’t know unless we tried.

“I have an idea.” I started the Jeep and took us back onto the street. It was after ten. If Tallus hadn’t been so insistent, I might have given up and started again in the morning. He was obviously not well. But he was along for the ride, and as much as I protested having a partner, I didn’t mind the company.