Rip didn’t even glance at True. “Why not ask the police to run the name? You know they’d do it for you.”
“I know, but True has contacts on the other side of the border—”
Susanna hurried back in, her expression tense as she interrupted them. “I’m sorry, I have to go. Felicia D’Angelo has a fever and her blood pressure is up. She’s only twenty weeks along. I’m meeting her at the hospital.”
“Which one?” Rip asked, since she had privileges at two.
She told him, then leaned down and kissed Rip’s cheek, ignoring the way he stiffened. “I’m taking the car. You can get a cab, can’t you?”
“Don’t bother with a cab,” True said, looking from Milla to Rip. “I can drive both of you home.”
“No, that’s too much trouble,” Milla said. “We live on opposite sides of town.”
“I knew that when I offered. It’s no problem.”
Rip said, “We’ll take a cab. I’d like to see Milla safely home, so I’ll have the cab drop her off and then take me home.”
“That’s rid—” Susanna began, then cut herself off and gave Rip a frustrated look, which made Milla think she had indeed been set up. “Never mind. Arrange things however you want. I have to go; I’ll see you later tonight, I hope.” She grabbed her bag and hurried out the door.
The waiter brought the coffee and poured it, and Milla sat uncomfortably between the two men while she sipped her coffee, they ignored theirs, and the polite tug of war over her continued. True was determined to take her home; Rip was just as determined that he wouldn’t. She saw Rip’s hold on his temper start to shred, and decided she’d better step in.
“Hold it,” she said calmly. “Neither of you have asked me what I want to do.”
Both of them immediately turned to her, and Rip’s expression was faintly apologetic. “Sorry. Were you feeling like a wishbone?”
“A bit.” She smiled at him, because she knew he wasn’t going to like what she said. “I need to talk to True, so I’ll go with him.”
She was right; Rip didn’t like that at all, though he had the grace not to argue once she made her decision. True didn’t look triumphant, but then maybe he was smart enough to realize he wasn’t going to like their talk.
“Whatever you want,” Rip said as the waiter brought their bills, and he fished a credit card out of his pocket, placing it in one of the folders. True made a motion as if to take the folder containing Milla’s bill, but she stopped him with a glance. She slipped several bills in that folder.
They waited until the waiter had taken both folders away, then returned with Rip’s credit card and receipt for his signature. He asked the waiter to have a cab called for him, and while that was being done, he added a hefty tip, then scrawled his name and pocketed his card.
“The cab company said ten minutes,” the waiter said when he returned.
“We’ll wait,” Milla began, but Rip shook his head.
“No, go on. It’s just a few minutes. I’ll finish my coffee while I wait.” He stood as she and True did, and kissed Milla’s cheek. “It’s been too long since we did this. Don’t be such a stranger.”
She chuckled. “Like yours and Susanna’s schedules are any better than mine.”
“Ain’t it the truth. Be careful going home.” He nodded a good-bye to True, and sat back down as she and True left the restaurant.
“My truck’s this way,” he said, indicating the left and gently steering her in that direction with his hand on her back. “I get the feeling Rip doesn’t like me.”
She made a noncommittal sound, and waited until they were in True’s silver Lincoln Navigator before saying, “I’m not very happy with you, myself. I don’t like being maneuvered and manipulated.”
He sat silently for a moment, the keys in his hand. Finally he said, “That obvious, huh?” as he put the key in the ignition and started the motor.
“Obvious enough.” If he had denied that his being there was a setup, she might have believed him, but she respected him for not trying to weasel out of telling the truth. Something else occurred to her, and she said, “How do you know where I live?” When she had said she and the Kospers lived on opposite sides of the town, he’d said that he’d known that in advance.
“I don’t, exactly. I know you live in the Westside, because I asked Susanna. What’s your address?”
She told him, and he nodded. “I know how to get there.” He was a native El Pasoan; he knew his way around the city.
“Was Susanna’s page a real one?”
He shrugged. “So far as I know. I intended to offer to drive you home regardless.”
“I meant what I said, True. I won’t go out with you. I appreciate the lift home, but that’s all it’s going to be.”
The traffic was fairly light and they caught several green lights in a row. She watched the streetlights cast changing shadows on his face, watched the way his expression hardened and his fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to bury yourself,” he finally said, his tone sharp with frustration. “God knows, I understand what drives you, but it doesn’t have to be either-or. You can search for your son and still have something for yourself. You’ve closed yourself off emotionally; you don’t let anyone in—”
“Because it isn’t fair to let people expect something I’m not willing to give,” she interrupted. “I won’t give you one minute of my time if I think that minute could make the difference between finding out any information that could lead me to Justin, or missing the boat.”