Page 23 of Fearless Encounter
Gabriel went for a drink called Book Burn, a mix of barrel-aged gin, passionfruit, and lime. “Gotta keep up with you,” he said.
Brooke looked out the windows, glad to have some space. She’d felt a bit cornered the last few days, so the expansive view was nice. Until the drinks arrived, she didn’t talk about much, except to mention the design of the bar, with its authentic décorreminiscent of the nineteen forties. She tried to get her mind off the case, but it was useless. She couldn’t quit thinking of Meg and what she must be going through.
When the waiter delivered their drinks, Brooke took a couple of sips. “This is good.”
Gabriel tried his, then lifted his glass—confirming his pleasure with a nod and a smile. “I don’t come here often enough.”
His expression was filled with emotion that Brooke couldn’t quite name. Yet she guessed that he didn’t date much, even though it had been a while since his wife’s passing. Her attraction to him was powerful, and the longer she was with him, the more irresistible the chemistry. If only she was his date, instead of the woman he felt obligated to help. “I should go home,” she blurted out, before filtering her thoughts.
Gabriel looked at her.
“I don’t mean right this minute,” Brooke said before taking another sip of her cocktail. “I just meant that I shouldn’t stay at your place any longer. You’ve been more than generous. But I’m imposing.”
“I understand that’s it’s an inconvenience for you,” Gabriel said. “Of course you want to return to your own home and your routine. But I’d like you to give me a couple more days.”
Brooke hesitated.
“Humor me,” he said. “I need to gain certainty that you’re not a target. And with all that’s happened…”
She sighed. “Okay, but I owe you…big time.”
Gabriel smiled. “I’ll remember that.”
“What’s your gut feeling about this case? And the chances of finding Meg quickly?”
“It’s not a rape crime,” Gabriel said. “Or not solely. Your friend is a career woman in a high-tech field. Weston texted a bit more info about her. She’s a brilliant researcher with quite a track record in data security software. As Amalie pointed out, this incident is likely connected to her career.”
Brooke’s gut twisted. “Do you think she’s still alive?”
Gabriel twirled his glass on the table. “There’s no way to know. In the last seventy-two hours, a lot could have happened. And the perp had accomplices, at least one that we know of—that other guy she left the party with.” He paused. “But we have to assume that she is alive, and we’ll find her.”
Brooke prayed for that outcome. Then she thought of the Zagat article. That had rattled her, but she’d consoled herself with the idea that some random criminal wasn’t likely to see that photo—social media or not. The connection to a high-tech company changed things. She was anxious for the investigation to continue so law enforcement could step in and handle things—and find Meg in time.
With that in mind, she didn’t want to be alone at night and was grateful for Gabriel’s offer. He was a bit of a mystery to her. Since he was handsome, smart, and capable, surely a woman would have garnered his attention. But he seemed reserved on that subject, and it didn’t appear that he was seeing anyone. She cared about him, if only as a friend. And she wondered what emotions he had buried. It had to be a nightmare to lose a loved one, especially your spouse.
Gabriel downed the rest of his drink, then said, “Will you have another?”
Brooke realized that she’d finished her drink. It tasted good, and she welcomed the numbing effect. “Sure, if you are.”
Gabriel waved at the waiter, who came to pick up the empty glasses. “We’ll have refills,” Gabriel said. “And bring a basket of bread or crackers, whatever you have.”
“Good idea,” Brooke said, feeling the alcohol. Sitting with Gabriel, she couldn’t deny that she wanted him. She’d have to be blind not to.
The drinks arrived with crusty bread and butter. They took a few minutes to eat and sip water, then returned to the cocktails.
“Didn’t want to be accused of getting you drunk,” Gabriel said with a smile.
What he implied made Brooke tremble. She’d love for him to have his way, but he was only kidding. Two more sips of her cocktail seemed to loosen her tongue. “Tell me more about your wife,” Brooke said. “What happened? If you are okay with sharing that.”
Sadness filled Gabriel’s expression, and he looked down at his drink as though searching for answers. It made her wonder if he’d share the story with her, and she regretted pushing him. He leaned back, his shoulders sagging, making Brooke’s heart fill with compassion.
“It’s been over three years,” he said. “But I still struggle to come to terms with the loss. Margot was caught in the crossfire during a drug deal gone wrong. It was a dangerous part of the city, and she never should have been there.”
Brooke listened, relieved that he was talking about it.
“After working late, she had taken a shortcut through a bad area to avoid traffic and get home faster.” Gabriel’s eyesrevealed deep emotion. “Camille, our oldest daughter, had her eighteenth birthday that day, and my wife was running late. She was at a hospital across town, covering for another nurse. She hadn’t wanted to work that day but was badly needed. She texted that several emergencies had come in. With drinking and drugs so prevalent during parades, that was to be expected. She knew that I was at home with Amalie and Camille, preparing for the party. Margot let us know that she would be late but intended to be home before the guests arrived. She didn’t text again before leaving the hospital.”
Brooke swallowed back tears.