Antonio had pondered all day whether to return Pamela Eltroy’s phone call. If she’d called about the case, he would have called her right back. But instead, she’d asked him to take her out to dinner.
Although he thought her very beautiful, she was linked to a murder case, be it by a few degrees of separation, but nevertheless, part of the suspect pool until ruled out. He could, he thought, justify it if while at dinner he gathered information about the case. And since Maddie was busy tonight, she’d agreed with him it was a good opportunity for them to learn more about Ken Rankin, so he’d called her back.
Now on his way to pick her up, he crossed the Francis Scott Key Bridge and took the shortcut through Rosslyn via the underpass tunnel, following the directions she’d texted him. She stepped out of the elevator in the lobby as he rolled to a stop. The doorman outside was swift and opened his car door to let her in. …show more content…
“Holá, yourself,” she said, smiling as she put on her seatbelt.
“The restaurant’s not far from here, but I thought we’d take the scenic route - D.C. is mystical at night from the parkway, don’t you think?” he asked, rhetorically. They drove in silence admiring the city lights reflecting on the Potomac, finally making their way through Foggy Bottom.
Being single, Antonio dined out practically every night, and The Old Ebbit Grille was a favorite haunt of his, as was evident because the hostess recognized him right away. “Follow me, Mr. Vega.”
She walked them to a table off the beaten path and laid out menus. “We have live entertainment starting in about fifteen minutes - soft rock - Natalie Merchant, Annie Lenox, Fleetwood Mac - that kind of thing. They’re good - everyone seems to enjoy them.”
Antonio nodded his