A Rare Chance by Carla Neggers Page B

Pinckney—”
    â€œYou want to see some ID?”
    â€œNo—no, I believe you.” Her dark gaze zeroed in on him. Not a woman to underestimate, Gabby Starr. “But I also know damned well you haven’t told me everything. I can’t fathom that you’d go to all this trouble because you don’t like your ex-partner’s choice of job. And Pete Darrow’s behavior suggests that more’s at stake for him too than just having to convince you he’s done the right thing. Otherwise you two’d just have it out over a couple beers. Otherwise he wouldn’t have left you to the tide the other night.”
    Cam gave a mock shudder at her flurry of words as he got to his feet. “You think too much. Come on, let’s get some dinner. An encounter with Pete Darrow’s enough to work up anybody’s appetite. I was going to whip up some pasta and something or another. That sound okay with you?”
    â€œSounds fine.” Her tone was only somewhat tentative. She smiled. “I’d planned to come in here guns blazing, you know. Figuratively speaking.”
    â€œI know.”
    She eyed him, easing to her feet. “You do, don’t you?”
    â€œIt’s that Scagliotti blood.”
    She slid gracefully onto an oak stool at the breakfast bar while he put on some Sarah Vaughan in the background to mellow things out. He decided not to mention having recognized her by her legs, but they were damned attractive wrapped around the stool. All that weightlifting, he supposed, remembering the way she’d hoisted that rock off his shin Friday night.
    As the music began, he ventured into his small kitchen on the other side of the bar and dug out a bottle of pinot noir. He opened it up on the counter in front of Gabriella and filled two glasses, aware of her dark eyes on him. He wondered if she felt the same tug of desire he did. She’d fight it if she did. Tony Scagliotti’s daughter wouldn’t want to let herself fall for a law enforcement type. And that was only the beginning of what stood between him and Gabriella Starr.
    â€œYou haven’t talked to Pete Darrow about what happened out on Reading Point, have you?” she asked.
    Cam welcomed the distraction from the kind of thinking that plainly wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He handed her a glass of wine, took a sip of his own. “Nope. Pete’s not going to tell me anything unless I beat it out of him, which isn’t my style.” He rummaged in the refrigerator for fresh linguine, carrots, red onion, garlic, a couple tiny zucchini; he dropped the whole lot on the counter in front of Gabriella and her wine. “He doesn’t think I trust him.”
    â€œWell you don’t.”
    â€œTwo months ago, I’d have said I trusted him with my life. Now, I don’t know. He took my decision to join the district attorney’s office as a personal betrayal. He never thought I’d go through with it and actually give up police work.”
    â€œBut it couldn’t have come as a surprise,” she said. She tasted her wine, fingering the stem of the glass as if she were glad to have something to do with her hands. “He knew you went to law school, didn’t he?”
    â€œYep. But I took my time about it. Pete figured it was just a hobby.”
    â€œHeck of a hobby.”
    Cam got out a nonstick skillet, set it on the stove, and heated up a tablespoon of olive oil. He rinsed off the vegetables and did a quick, uneven job of chopping them up before adding them to the skillet. Meanwhile, he set a pot of water on the stove to boil. “Suppose you tell me everything you know about the kidnap attempt on Joshua Reading last month.”
    Not one to miss anything, Gabriella’s eyes narrowed on him. “Why?”
    â€œBecause it got my friend Pete together with your bosses, the Reading brothers.”
    â€œI’m not an eyewitness or anything. I doubt I