LITMIR.BIZ

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      “Hi, dahlin’. What can I do for you? Your mom and pop are still asleep—or at least they haven’t been seen today.” She chuckled merrily. “You’d think those two were teenagers.” She laughed again and Simone smiled, hoping that one day she’d find not just the lust but the love her parents had.

      “No, I wasn’t calling for them.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, I was, uh, wondering if Chad was around. But—don’t trouble yourself,” she began to ramble. “If he’s still asleep, I can call later or tomorrow. Really, don’t bother—”

      “Whoa, hold your horses. Chad is out back, been up for hours. As a matter of fact, he just this minute finished a call with Sam. Hold the line while I get him.”

      Before Simone could register her protest, Dottie had laid the phone down and was gone in search of Chad.

      Now she felt like a bumbling idiot. What would she say? Why was she even calling? This was so infantile. She should just—

      “Hello?”

      “Hi…it’s…Simone.”

      “Hey, Simone.”

      He sounded happy to hear from her, she thought. “Busy?”

      “Not at the moment. But I will be soon. What’s up?”

      “I was getting hungry and I was wondering if…you still wanted to…go to lunch.”

      “Uh, you’re about five minutes late. Sam just called and asked me to meet her at Cisco’s.”

      There was an uneasy moment of silence.

      Sam? “Oh, hey, no problem. Have fun. Okay?”

      “Sure. Maybe another time. We’ll have to get together at some point and talk about launching this case. Hopefully, one day this week.”

      “Yeah…the case.” Her head was spinning and she had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Anyway, let me run. I’ll talk to you.”

      “Take care, Simone. I’ll call you.”

      She hung up without saying anything further and possibly making a bigger fool of herself.

      Heavily, she sat down in the chair. Maybe it was nothing, she concluded—Sam and Chad. Just a friendly lunch for old time’s sake. What else could it be?

      Samantha arrived at Cisco’s at exactly noon. Chad was sitting at the bar of the upscale restaurant with his back to her. She pulled in a breath and walked forward.

      “Hi, waiting long?” she asked, placing her hand on his back.

      Chad turned his head and smiled up at her. “Not at all. Just got here myself. You want to sit at the bar or get a table?”

      She gazed quickly around at the sprinkling of people in the trendy bistro. “Table sounds good to me.”

      He rose from the bar stool and brushed innocently against her in the process. Samantha drew in a quick breath, slightly unnerved by his touch, and smiled tightly.

      Casually, Chad put his arm around her waist and led her to the hostess who sat them.

      “What are you in the mood for?” he asked, scanning the menu.

      “The house salad is excellent. And I love the Tahini dressing they use.”

      “I’m still growing.” He chuckled. “I think I’ll go with the burger and some fries.”

      The waitress arrived shortly and took their orders.

      Samantha folded her hands in her lap. “So, how does it feel being back home?”

      His brows rose, then lowered. “Good but strange. Everything seems the same but different. I’ve been so accustomed to odd languages, customs and time frames—it takes some getting used to.”

      “Yeah, I can imagine. I know you must have learned a lot.”

      He nodded. “That I did. I mean, I went abroad with the intention of seeing how unfair the laws are outside of the U.S., only to discover that the real problems are right here at home—disguised as democracy.”

      Samantha rested her forearms on the table and leaned forward. “How do you plan to go about the class action suit?” Her eyes studied him intently.

      “I want to begin with securing a list, from you actually, of all the cases that have come through your office and begin contacting the families. Then I want to work with Justin to review case files and arrest records as well as hospital records.”

      “Wow. That’s quite a load.”

      “It can be done.”

      “I’ll do anything I can to help. You know that.”

      He reached across the table and covered her hands with his. “I’m counting on you.”

      Their food arrived and they ate for a few moments in silence. Samantha was the first one to break it.

      “So…besides hunting down the bad guys, what do you do these days for entertainment?”

      He chuckled. “That’s a good question. I haven’t been out socially in nearly four years.” Images of his last night with Simone suddenly danced beneath his conscience.

      “Maybe we can change that,” she said with a bold smile.

      Chad cocked his head to the side, a playful glint coming into his eyes. “Are you propositioning me, Ms. Montgomery?”

      “Absolutely. All work and no play…you know the rest.”

      “I think I’d like that.”

      The warm glow in her heart set her face aglow. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She almost giggled.

      “What did you have in mind?”

      “If I remember correctly, you love jazz. Hopefully, that hasn’t changed.”

      “No way. It was one of the main things I longed for while I was away.”

      “Great. There’s a fabulous local band, Magique, that’s playing on Wednesday nights. My treat.”

      “Well, well, a woman for the millennium,” he chuckled. “Sounds great.”

      “What if I pick you up about eight. That will give me enough time to finish up at the office and go home and change.”

      “You don’t have to pick me up. I can meet you.”

      “My treat, remember? That means transportation is included.”

      “I was never one to turn down a good deal.”

      Samantha looked at him from beneath her lashes, stuck the fork in her salad and slowly slipped a mouthful between her lips.

      “You’ve changed, Samantha,” he said as if seeing her for the first time.

      “I know,” she said softly.

      Simone stared at the typed words in the book she was reading. All the lines seemed to merge together, not making any sense. Gibberish. She tossed it aside and gazed up at the bedroom ceiling. Her house was spotless. Her laundry was finished. She didn’t have to return to work until Monday and she didn’t have a damned thing to do in the meantime.

      She crossed her legs at the ankle, then folded her hands across her stomach. She was edgy, too full of energy. Her mind was racing. Driving usually helped when she felt this way. The concentration it took to maneuver the roads, the relaxation that came from seeing the landscape spread out in front of her worked to knock the kinks out.

      She popped up from the bed, put on her sneakers, grabbed her car keys and headed out.

      After driving for a good hour, she took stock of her surroundings and was surprised to find herself on the road to the bed and breakfast that

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