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here, why he was playing workman at the museum.
    So he was right behind her as she entered the restaurant. She took a booth and he sat at the counter. He could practically hear her fume, and for some reason, her reaction made him smile.
    “This is stupid,” she called out. “If you’re not going to leave, you can come sit with me.”

    Rising from a stool, he slid into the booth across from her. Though she was young, she had an interesting face, as if she’d…experienced things. And now the impact of those cat eyes wasn’t lost on him. Her hair hung to her waist. Inwardly, he chuckled at the funky clothes. Mellie liked that kind of attire, too. “Here we go. All cozy.”
    “Don’t get any ideas. My mother taught me not to be rude.Maybe we can talk, and I can figure out why you’re so cranky.”
    “Me? You’re the one who’s uppity.”
    A waiter came to the table. “Anything to drink?”
    “I’ll have a beer,” she said. “Whatever you have on draft.”
    “Same here,” he told the man. “So,” he asked when they were alone, “tell me about yourself.” That might help his quest to figure out who was targeting the Met.
    “Maybe.”She arched a brow. “If you go first.”
    How much to say? From previous experience, he knew to stick to the truth as much as possible. “I’m forty years old. What are you, about twenty-two?” Hell, he could be her father.
    “Twenty-six. Year wise. In living experiences, I’m a lot older.”
    Their beer arrived and she sipped hers. Her shiny dark pink lipstick left a half circle on the glass.

    “What does that mean?” he asked. She was thoughtful. “My family’s had a lot of issues that I prefer not to talk about.”
    “Family as in nuclear family or extended?”
    “I don’t have a nuclear family. I probably never will. My gang of sisters, brother, nieces and nephews are enough.”
    The brew went down smooth in his parched throat. “Kind of soon to make that decision, isn’t it?”
    Instead of answering, she said, “Your turn. Family?” “Big, too. A couple of sisters and brothers. Mother, aunts.” And a daughter. But he wouldn’t mention her.
    “You’re pretty old never to have been married.”
    “I was married.” Grief passed through him like a familiar ghost, even after all this time. “We went to…school together. She died. And that
I
prefer not to talk about.”
    “Fair enough.”

    When the waiter came back, Nick pointed to the menu. “We’ll both have Reuben sandwiches. What would you like with yours?”
    “You’re something else.” She smiled up at the waiter, who beamed at her attention. “French fries, thanks.”
    “College?” he asked when the guy left.
    “Yep.”
    “In art history?”
    “Two degrees, actually. I double majored in art history and museum curating. Thengot a Masters of Art in the Humanities.”
    “Seriously? Did you start when you were twelve?”
    “I graduated high school at seventeen, college in three years. Another two at grad school, and one year interning in Europe. Your turn.”
    “No college.” The police academy, though. Which, at one time, he’d been proud of. “How about we discuss something else? What do you think is going on at themuseum?”
    “Whatever it is, I’m not worried about it.”
    “No? How come?”
    “Because I refuse to live my life in a state of perpetual anxiety. I think cautiousness is highly overrated.”
    Hell, that’s all he needed. Evel Knievel in leopard tights and blue hair. He reminded himself that she could be a lot more than that, too.
    o0o
    They walked out of Jinxes together.
    “What are you thinking?” he asked her.
    She looked up at him. In this light, he seemed more approachable. He’d been easygoing at supper, too. “I can’t believe I had a good time with you.”
    “It was probably the two beers.”
    “And the wine I had earlier.”
    “You had wine earlier?”
    “Uh-huh. Which is why I’ll let you put me in a cab.”
    “Damn.” Nick stepped out onto