When I emerge from my office, the house is quiet. Fiona’s gone. I go upstairs and change into a fresh shirt, then drive downtown and park on the tree-lined street outside the building Eddie said Letterman’s office is in.
As I’m getting out of the car, I happen to glance at the restaurant across the street.
The Harbor House is a seafood place with a patio overlooking the water and live jazz on Friday nights. It’s a popular spot for tourists and locals alike. Sometimes during the summer, there’s even a line to get in.
But it’s not summer now, and there’s no line. I’ve got a clear view of the restaurant’s entry.
Walking through the front door with his arm slung around a curvy brunette’s shoulder is a man I’d recognize anywhere, even from the back.
Aidan.
28
I
freeze. My heart stops. F
