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him. The guy. The guy with the eyes.”

“What?”

Trace pulled her closer and glanced around. “Why would you come out here by yourself? Do you know how dangerous that could’ve been?”

“I know. I know. I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“I—I think so.” Connie searched her mind, trying to remember anything else about him. “I’m pretty sure. He had the same eyes. I remember those eyes. He also had a scar across his cheek and a five o’clock shadow. Tall, but not as tall as you. Maybe six feet, and lean.”

“What about the tattoo on his neck? Did you notice it?”

Connie sucked in a shaky breath, willing herself to calm down and think. She closed her eyes, trying to recall if the guy had a tattoo. When she opened her eyes again, Trace was watching her intently, worry in his eyes.

“I don’t know. Dammit. I don’t remember seeing a tattoo. Maybe he had one, but I was so shocked to see him, I’m not positive.”

“Did it seem like he recognized you? What did he say?”

She told him about the straws and how he had helped her pick them up. “He said it was nice to help a pretty lady. All I could do was stare at him. Then he asked if we’d ever met, and that I looked familiar. I glanced away for a second, and when I turned back, he was gone.”

“But you think it was the same guy?”

“I—I think so. Maybe. Oh, no. I’m not sure.” She dropped her forehead to Trace’s chest and shook her head. “I can’t believe this. I’m just not sure. I don’t remember seeing a tattoo.”

Trace wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. “It’s all right. Let’s see if Nancy is here,” he said of the restaurant owner. “There are a couple of cameras inside. Maybe she’ll let us take a look at the footage.”

They headed back down the street toward the restaurant. All Connie could think about was that she might’ve just let a killer walk away. Why couldn’t she have done something? At least she could’ve kept him talking until Trace returned.

Then again, all she’d really noticed at the bank were his eyes. What if this person wasn’t him? What if he just looked like the robber? The last thing she wanted to do was accuse an innocent man of something he didn’t do.

But what if he really is the man who killed Richard?

The way her heart was fiercely pounding had her thinking that he was.

* * *

An hour later, they entered the condo. Frustration drummed through Trace as he set the bag of food on the counter. Their lunch was definitely cold and he was starving, but he couldn’t eat until he got his head on straight. Seeing the mysterious, gray-eyed man again had definitely spooked Connie.

Before they’d left the sandwich shop, Nancy had let them watch the security footage. Unfortunately, it hadn’t done much good. There was a shot of the guy picking up straws and helping Connie, but all they could see was his back. The only thing that made Trace think that something was up with the man, aside from Connie’s observations, was the way he kept glancing around the restaurant. Like he was up to something and was checking to make sure he wasn’t being watched. Unfortunately, he never turned to the camera. Trace wasn’t sure if that was intentional or if it was by chance. Nancy mentioned that she had seen him in the restaurant a few times before.

“Considering I work for a security firm, you’d think I’d be more observant,” Connie said, sounding dejected as she slid onto one of the bar stools at his kitchen counter. “How is it that I can’t remember if this guy had a tattoo? His neck should’ve been at eye level.”

“Babe, you’re being too hard on yourself. He caught you off guard. Anyone would’ve freaked. Besides, maybe you didn’t notice a tattoo today because he didn’t have one.”

“But I’ll never forget those eyes. They were the same as the guy at the bank’s. I know I sound crazy right now, but, Trace, I’m sure.” She slammed her elbows on the counter and gripped the side of her head as if frustrated. “I’m pretty sure.”

Trace was at a loss over how to comfort her. She’d basically said the same thing throughout the ride back to his condo. He hated that he hadn’t been in the restaurant with her, but if he had been, he was sure the guy wouldn’t have approached her.

The telephone call Trace had received while at the sandwich shop was regarding the hit-and-run at the ice-cream parlor. The cops found the driver, a drunk man who had ended up in an accident that wrecked his car, as well as two others. Thankfully, there were only minor injuries to those involved. Knowing the jerk had been inebriated when he’d almost plowed into Connie made Trace doubly thankful that Larry had pushed her out of the way. It was also good to know that the parking-lot incident didn’t appear to be connected to the bank robbery. But now that Connie thought she’d seen the robber again, Trace’s concern for her safety was at an all-time high.

“Maybe you should stay with me for a few more days,” he said and put her food in the microwave.

Connie started shaking her head before speaking. “No. I’ve inconvenienced you enough. Despite what happened at the restaurant, it’s been fun hanging out with you. I’ll never forget how you came through for me, but I’m going home tomorrow night.”

“Fine. Then I’m going with you.” He couldn’t stop her from leaving, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to keep an eye on her.

CHAPTER 11

Late Monday afternoon, Connie hung up the phone and leaned back in her office chair as she tapped her fingers on the desk. She couldn’t for the life of her remember the last time she had seen her wallet. So far,

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