Page 70 of Hunt Me, Daddy

“Good, because I was preparing to leave.”

“You need a perimeter.”

I blinked. “I have a perimeter,” I said.

“Not for the type of file you are circling.”

There it was. He definitely knew more than he was letting on. My pulse started to race.

“You’re making assumptions.”

“Yes.”

“Do you usually warn people based on assumptions?”

“No.”

“Then why me?”

He studied me for a long moment. “Because your assumptions are really good.”

I looked away first, out the window toward the street where morning traffic slid along the wet pavement. My reflection looked back at me in the glass. Behind it, Ivan sat at the table, a dark shape in the corner of the frame. Tall. Lean. Glasses catching the light. Dark coat folded over the back of his chair.

Tall. Dark coat. Unremarkable enough to be intentional.

The thought came so fast my stomach dropped. I turned back to him. He was not watching my reflection. He was watching me.

“What file do you think I’m circling?” I asked.

“A dangerous one.”

My heartbeat became very loud, and I set my coffee down very carefully.

“You don’t know that.”

“No.”

The denial was too smooth.

“You’re guessing.”

“Yes.”

Also too smooth.

“You’re good at lying without lying, aren’t you?”

“I prefer omission.”

“Of course you do.”

“So do you.”

I glared at him. He looked almost amused.

“That was not an insult,” he said.

“It sounded like one.”