Free TRACE EVIDENCE by Carla Cassidy Page A

there's a real crime," she said.
    "Maybe, although most of the time I find my work more satisfying than any socializing I do."
    "Then maybe you've been socializing with the wrong people."
    Again he flashed her a glance and this time his lips were curved upward in a devastating smile. "Maybe you're right. Cops and criminals aren't usually overly adept at small talk."
    "Well, I just wanted to let you know that if you'd rather not do this, you can take me back home. I don't want you to be where you don't want to be."
    He looked back at the road, his expression once again inscrutable. "I'm fine with where I am at the moment."
    She settled back in the seat and looked out the window.
    Cherokee Corners had almost a dozen drive-through eateries, four cafés and two more upscale restaurants. Vitello's was one of the two. Located on the north side of town, it was housed in a single story bleached brick building with a neon sign across the top.
    "Ever eaten here before?" he asked as he pulled into an empty parking space.
    "No. Most of the time when I grab a bite out it's at one of the cafés." She didn't want to tell him that she hadn't been out on a date since her return to Cherokee Corners from
New York
nearly two years earlier.
    "I haven't eaten here before, either. Hopefully the food is good. I'm hungry, what about you?"
    "Starving," she agreed.
    Together they got out of the car and walked toward the doors to the restaurant. She was intensely aware of his hand at the small of her back as they entered the dim interior and walked to where the hostess stood.
    Although she knew it was impossible, she could have sworn she could feel the heat of his hand against her bare skin. He held his hand there until they were led to their table, only then did he break the physical contact.
    Their table was situated in a corner of the room, providing far more intimacy than they required. A rich red tablecloth covered the small table and a candle flickered its romantic light between the salt and pepper shakers in the center of the table.
    "If the food is as bad as the cheesy music they're playing, we're in trouble," Clay said when they were settled in with menus before them.
    Tamara laughed and opened her menu. The "cheesy music" was an Italian instrumental, the kind that seemed indigenous to Italian restaurants all over the United States .
    "I don't know how good the food is, but if the crowd is any indication, it must be pretty good," she said.
    "It's been my experience that most weekend nights nobody stays home in this town," he observed and closed his menu.
    "There isn't a whole lot to do other than eat out in this town."
    "Quite a different pace than
New York
. It must have taken some adjustment for you to return to such a small town after the big city."
    Tamara closed her menu as well. "Actually, the bigger adjustment came when I left here and moved to
New York
. I never really made the adjustment. Everything there always seemed too fast, too frantic and too surreal for me."
    "What made you move there?"
    It was hard for her to concentrate and look at him at the same time. The flickering candlelight emphasized the angles and planes of his handsome face, giving him a slightly predatory look.
    She looked down at her menu cover. "My work … and the agent who agreed to represent me. He thought it would be a good idea if I lived in
New York
. So, after several months of thinking it over, I decided to give it a try."
    She looked up into his dark eyes where the candlelight seemed to turn his pupils silver. "
New York
just didn't work out for me. I'm happier, more centered here in Cherokee Corners."
    At that moment the waitress arrived to take their orders. When she'd departed with their orders in hand, Tamara sought to change the topic of conversation from her to him.
    "Your work must be fascinating," she said.
    "If you like science, which I do."
    Again their conversation was interrupted as the waitress returned with a bottle of red wine and poured