Impulse Spy (Sonic Sleuths Series) by Carrie Ann Knox

Author:Carrie Ann Knox [Knox, Carrie Ann]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Xotolithic Press
Published: 2017-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

I tried to calm my flush before returning to the table. While there was nothing inherently dangerous in what I had been doing, there was still a rush any time I had to lie. It seemed I liked a little deception.

Sloan’s grin when I sat down told me she got the same thrill, no matter who was doing the lying.

“We’ve already had at least three different people poke their heads around the corner, peeking at our table,” she whispered. “What exactly did you do?”

I shrugged. “Turns out the upstairs isn’t another dining room. They said there’s a private party in there. Not allowed up.”

She raised her eyebrows at the information. “Interesting.”

I took a sip of my wine that had arrived in my absence. A moment later the waiter appeared with our meals. His already-attentive approach seemed possibly kicked up a notch. He definitely wanted us happy. But my creamy alfredo did look delicious.

We devoured our food in silence for a few minutes. Just as I was nearing too full to continue, a figure at the hostess stand made my appetite halt entirely.

I put my fork down and mumbled quietly to Sloan. “The guy up front. Is that who I think it is?”

She caught my vibe and paused before scanning the room nonchalantly. I heard her breath catch before she returned to her meal, a little stiff. “The man from the photos, meeting Richard in the alley. What is he doing here?”

I spared another glance and discovered the man clearly looking in our direction. I quickly averted my eyes. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

Within seconds the man appeared at the head of our table. He was wearing a fine gray suit with subtle pinstripes not visible from afar. A paisley silk pocket square and slicked-back dark hair gave him a polished, commanding presence. I gulped back my unease.

“Good evening,” he began, his accent thick. “I’m Salvatore, the owner of this establishment.” He gestured to the table. “I hope everything is to your liking this evening.” The smile he directed at us seemed warm on the surface, but his eyes chilled me.

“Everything was excellent.” I had to steady my voice. “You have a beautiful place here.”

“So wonderful to hear that. Is this your first time visiting?”

We both nodded.

“Lovely, lovely. Well if there is anything you need.”

Sloan spoke up. “Actually, we do have a question. We were curious about a wine.”

She picked up the menu and pointed to the outrageously-priced bottle at the bottom. “It’s unusually expensive, so we figure it must be just amazing. Do you serve it very often?”

“Well,” he hedged, “I do have a few select patrons that are fond of the vintage. Very loyal. But I really don’t know what they see in it. Overpriced, in my opinion.”

“So you don’t recommend it?”

“No, no, no. Don’t waste your money. Plenty of nice wines on there to choose from that are just as special.”

Sloan laid the menu on the table and looked up at him. “Thank you for your advice. We’ll steer clear.

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