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I tilt my head to the side, finally feeling like I have control again. “And yet, you lured me to this dinner under the guise of giving me information. Information you don’t have or don’t seem to want to give me. Are you afraid I'll beat you to the punch if you share if? Worried a civilian might outdo Chicago's finest?"
Henry's eyes narrow. "Ms. D'Amato, I assure you, my investigative skills are more than up to the task."
I decide not to remind him to call me Lana. "Prove it.” I raise an eyebrow. "Or are you all talk and no action?"
He studies me for a moment. Then he sips his martini and rolls his shoulders. The tension in him dissipates. "I don't need to prove anything to you. My record speaks for itself."
"Does it, now?" I purr, leaning forward. "And here I thought you were just another pretty face with a badge."
He chuckles, a low, rich sound that sends an unexpected shiver down my spine. "Careful. Flattery will get you nowhere."
I laugh, genuinely this time. "Oh, please, as if you're immune to a little charm."
His lips quirk up at the corners. "I'm a professional. It takes more than a pretty smile to sway me."
"Is that a challenge, Detective?" I ask, unable to keep the flirtatious note from my voice. How weird is it that I'm up to the challenge? Weird and dangerous.
Henry shakes his head, but I can see he's fighting a grin. "I can't divulge details from an open investigation. There are rules, protocols?—"
“Hmm, so you lied to me to get me to dinner. Why not just ask me out?”
“I didn’t lie. I have taken a look at your brother’s case and am following a few leads. But I can’t tell you the details.”
"Excuses, excuses," I tut, wagging a finger at him. "I thought you were a man of action, Lutz. Don't tell me you're scared of bending a few rules."
"It's not about being scared," he counters, his tone growing serious. "It's about integrity. Something I take very seriously in my line of work."
I study him for a moment, searching for any cracks in his armor. But Henry Lutz is as unreadable as ever, his resolve seemingly unshakeable.As I thought. A Boy Scout.
I sigh, realizing I'm at an impasse. As much as I hate to admit it, Detective Lutz might be my best shot at finding Lazaro. The thought of my brother out there, alone and possibly in danger, makes my chest tighten.
"Fine. You win, Detective. I'll play ball. But I need more than vague promises. You have to give me something about Lazaro."
Henry leans back, his expression maddeningly neutral. "I've come across some information that might shed light on his disappearance. But as I said, I can't divulge specifics without compromising an ongoing investigation."
I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "How convenient. So much for holding your side of the deal."
“My side is to investigate your brother’s disappearance. I’ll tell you what I can, when I can, but these things take time. I need to verify certain details before I can share them."
I study him, searching for any tell that might betray his true intentions. But Henry's poker face is impeccable.
A thought strikes me. Perhaps he’s tight-lipped because of our location. "Are you worried about prying ears?" I gesture around the restaurant. "Usually, it's my family fretting over spies in the woodwork."
Henry's lips twitch, almost a smile. "Occupational hazard, I suppose. We both have our secrets to keep."
"Indeed, we do.” I decide to let the topic of Lazaro slide for now. Henry's holding his cards close to his chest, and I know pushing too hard will only make him clam up further. Instead, I opt for a different approach.
"You know, Detective," I say, pulling the olive from my drink, “This might be the first time I've ever trusted a cop. Consider yourself special."
He raises an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. "I'm flattered. Or should I be worried?"
I laugh. "Maybe both. They say keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The jury's still out on which category you fall into."
"And here I thought we were having such a lovely evening," Henry quips, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Oh, we are. But don't let it go to your head. I still haven't decided whether you're worth the risk."
"Risk? Are you implying I'm dangerous?"
