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27

27

WE STOP OUR investigations late in the afternoon when I get a call from Duke letting me know he’s on his way. Knowing that I need to work on getting information out of him, I suggest we meet at the coffee shop on the corner and he agrees (though I’m sure he wouldn’t protest if I asked him to come straight to my room again . . . )

Half an hour later, I’m sitting at our usual table in the coffee shop, and my fucking traitorous heart skips a couple beats when Duke walks in the door.

We hug, kiss each other on the cheek, and order our coffees. Duke talks about a beat-up old Chevy he’s working on at the shop which is probably on its last legs. I make up a story about how the ‘lawyer I’m working for’ is a total ass who is constantly trying to get in my pants. Basic small talk—stuff I usually hate engaging in, but for some reason I don’t mind it so much with Duke (partly because I don’t actually have to be honest with him about my side of things).

“So, do you have any pl
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