The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [58]
‘This past weekend? In my apartment?’
She got no reaction from him.
‘Do you remember anything about that night? We went back to my place from the bar, you took off your jacket and the first thing I saw was a gun. I freaked out and you showed me your badge saying that everything was OK, you were a detective for the city of Los Angeles.’
Hunter looked down in embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry . . . I actually don’t remember much about that night . . . little memory flashes, but that’s all. How much did I have to drink?’
‘Quite a lot,’ she said giggling to herself.
‘Was I on Scotch?’
‘Yep,’ she nodded. ‘So you don’t remember much about that night at all?’
‘Very little.’
‘Do you remember sleeping with me?’
The embarrassment was now complete. A slight shake of the head was all he could muster.
‘Oh God! So I wasn’t memorable?’
‘Oh no, it’s not like that. I’m sure you’re incredible in bed . . .’ Hunter realized he’d said those words louder than he intended. Their conversation had suddenly attracted the attention of some of the neighboring tables. ‘Wow, that sentence came out all wrong,’ he said in a much lower tone of voice.
Isabella smiled. ‘Your brain working faster than your lips again?’ she teased.
Luigi came back with a bottle of still mineral water and poured it into the wine glass in front of her. Hunter declined signaling that he was alright with his Diet Coke.
‘Grazie, Luigi,’ she said softly.
‘Si figuri, sig.na,’ he replied with a jovial smile.
Isabella waited until Luigi was gone. ‘I must admit that your phone call yesterday came as a surprise.’
‘Surprising people is one of the things I do best,’ Hunter replied, sitting back on his chair.
‘I was unsure of what to make of it. I didn’t know if you really wanted to see me or just get into my pants again.’
Hunter smiled. He admired her forwardness. ‘And that’s why you opted for a quick lunch. Dinner dates are easier to escalate into something else.’
‘Lunch dates are safer,’ Isabella confirmed.
‘Plus you wanted to check me out.’
‘What do you mean?’ She played dumb.
‘We both had a few more drinks than we intended on the night we met. Our perceptions probably got somewhat . . . distorted. You were probably unsure of what I look like and if I was worth going on a second date with. A quick lunch date would clear all that up.’
Isabella bit her lip.
Hunter knew he was right.
‘I’m sure I remember more than you do,’ she said, playing with her hair again.
‘True,’ Hunter admitted. ‘But that night was atypical. I usually don’t drink to the point of passing out and not remembering what happened.’ He had a sip of his Diet Coke. ‘So, did I pass the lunch-date test?’
Isabella nodded. ‘With flying colors. Did I?’
Hunter frowned.
‘C’mon. You were checking me out just as much as I was checking you out. You said it yourself. You don’t remember much.’
Hunter enjoyed her company. She was certainly different from most women he’d met. He liked her sense of humor, her sharp answers and her irreverent way. They both stared at each other for a little while. Hunter felt just as comfortable being silent with her as he did in conversation.
Luigi arrived with their pasta and Hunter watched as Isabella placed her serviette around the collar of her blouse like a true Italian. He did the same.
‘Wow, this is absolutely beautiful,’ he said after his first mouthful.
‘I told you, this is authentic Italian food, that’s why they are always busy.’
‘I bet you eat in here all the time. I would.’
‘Not as much as I’d like. I have to keep an eye on my figure you know.’ She looked down at her waist.
‘Well, whatever you are doing, it’s working out fine for you,’ he said with a smile.
Before she was able to thank him for his compliment Hunter’s phone rang. He knew it was impolite to leave his phone on inside a restaurant, but he had no choice.
‘Sorry about this,’ he said semi-embarrassed, bringing his phone to his ear. Isabella didn’t seem to mind.
‘Detective Hunter speaking.’ He heard a faint click.
‘Go down Camp Road in Griffith Park. Before you get to the end of