Free Queens Ransom (Sofie Metropolis) by Tori Carrington Page B

afternoon for more information.’
    I nodded throughout, as if I understood what he was saying, when in reality my brain was stuck on those three words: suspected terrorist list.
    What? Did they think Dino was going to try to blow up the UN with an explosive torte? While I agreed they were good – I highly recommend the triple chocolate – they weren’t that good.
    I rested my face in my hands, giving a good rub.
    ‘I’m sorry . . .’ I said. ‘This is all a little much to take on all at once . . .’
    He put his fork down, too. ‘I understand.’
    We sat in silence for long moments, the mundane sounds of the few remaining diners around us seeming suddenly loud . . . suspect.
    ‘This Constantine . . .’ David said quietly. ‘I know I asked before, but . . . what is he to you?’
    I slowly blinked. ‘Dino?’
    He nodded. ‘I mean, I know you’re a PI. And you’re both of Greek extraction. Him a little more directly than you. But . . .’
    But . . .
    That about covered it.
    ‘He’s a family friend,’ I finally said.
    I inwardly winced. Yes, while Dino was that, he was also much more to me. Much, much more. Although even I wasn’t sure what all that encompassed.
    And now that he wasn’t even around.
    David’s smile was immediate, but didn’t completely reach his eyes. ‘Good.’
    ‘Good?’
    He nodded. ‘Yeah. Because I’d really like to see you again.’
    My stomach pitched to somewhere in the vicinity of my feet and then bounced back up again.
    ‘Outside working hours . . .’

Nine
     
    Back at the office an hour later I still couldn’t quite grasp the implications of what had happened during lunch. I’d gotten the moussaka to go, albeit for different reasons than I planned, and then passed it on to Rosie. I now sat in my office, absently watching her try to feed pieces of eggplant to Muffy – slimy! Disgusting! Was Muffy’s take – while she dug into the rest, Adam Sandler’s Hanukkah Song playing on her iPod dock. One of her many gossip mags was open at her elbow and she was talking to who I was guessing was her sister Lupe via her cell phone on speaker.
    Suspected terrorist list . . .
    The mere possibility of someone mistaking Dino for a terrorist was enough to freeze my brain for . . . well, for a good hour. And that was so far.
    The first thing I did upon my return was look up Homeland Security’s website on my uncle’s desktop computer. Now the home screen glowed at me. Probably my merely accessing the site had landed me on some kind of list.
    Was I, too, at risk of being deported?
    It made no sense. Absolutely none at all.
    Neither did my agreeing to see David again.
    My cell phone beeped. I picked it up and saw I had a text from an unknown number. I accessed it:
    SECURITY BULLETIN #1: No progress. The first with a line on Sara Canton earns a bonus. Status reports should be sent via text to this number.
    Hunh.
    I scratched my head and read it again. Well, I suppose I should count myself lucky he hadn’t signed it Love, Bruno .
    My guess was the number couldn’t be traced back to him, anyway.
    Another beep. Another text. This one from a Charles Chaney.
    I have the address of the ex-wife.
    Idiot. Sent it to everyone rather than just Bruno.
    And very obviously after that bonus offer.
    I, on the other hand, thought maybe I should be concerned I wasn’t interested in the bonus offer at all.
    My guess was Mr Sweaty Comb-Over Guy was the Lucky Winner of Security Bulletin Bonus #1.
    I picked up the agency phone and dialed the number that had come with the address Rosie had given me earlier.
    ‘What the fuck do you want?’
    I wasn’t surprised I’d gotten Sara’s gun-happy brother on the second ring.
    ‘Your fucking sister. Put her on the fucking phone.’
    I wasn’t sure my ruse would work – truthfully, I’d never spoken like that to anyone in my life – but it was my knee jerk reaction. Just as reaching for my Glock had been my reaction to his shotgun earlier.
    Not that I’d