“No thanks—and no apology necessary. You have more important things to think about.” He settled on the stool and angled toward her.
“And worry about?” She picked up the elastic band and scrutinized him.
“Maybe. We should assume that anyone who would risk a prison sentence to put that package on your porch isn’t playing games. The message inside would suggest the culprit is a disgruntled listener.” He linked his fingers on the cool granite. “How much of the negative feedback you get is general—like this—versus focused on your position on a particular topic?”
“Doug and Meg at the station would be the ones to ask about that, but my sense is that most listeners who call and write want to talk about a specific issue. As I told you earlier, we hear from a few regulars, but they’re in the minority.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“Only first names.”
“We may want to get a court order for a phone trap on the calls coming in to your program.”
“Doug will be happy to cooperate—but I think that’s a dead end. My regulars are mouthy, but they seem like ordinary people who are taking advantage of the opportunity to vent.”
Brent rested an elbow on the island. “Yet the message suggests it’s from a listener.”
“Suggests.” She gave him a keen look. “You’ve used that word twice. Are you thinking that could be a red herring?”
The fear she was struggling to control hadn’t short-circuited her brain.
“It’s possible. Do you have any enemies in your private life?”
“No. I stay off the grid and do projects like this.” She waved a hand around the kitchen. “I also exercise, and I volunteer with a couple of organizations. I’m not at odds with anyone in my private circle.”
“No serious ex-boyfriend who may not be happy about a breakup?”
She played with the stretchy band, watching him. “I thought you did a background check.”
“I didn’t go that deep.”
“I’ll save you the trouble. I have one serious ex. We went out for eighteen months but parted amicably two years ago—a breakup he initiated. He was a lawyer with his eye on a political career and was concerned the controversy I attract could derail those ambitions. So no issue there.”
Her ex had dumped her because he couldn’t take the heat generated by her profession? Had put his goal of an elected office above a personal relationship?
What a loser.
And definitely not worthy of the woman sitting across from him.
He and Eve Reilly may have met less than three hours ago, but it didn’t take long to recognize character. She was the real deal—strong, intelligent, principled, courageous, caring . . . not to mention beautiful.
Too bad he wasn’t in the market for a relationship.
But even if he was, dating someone who was part of an investigation was a no-no.
He hooked one foot on the rung of the stool. “So we can write him off.” In more ways than one.
“I’d say that’s a safe bet. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since the day we broke up. I did hear through the grapevine that he’s dating someone else. So I doubt I’m on his radar anymore.”
“You’re certain you have no other personal enemies?”
“Yes. This has to be related to my job.” She twined her fingers together in her lap. “You said a few minutes ago that the person who did this isn’t playing games. Does that mean you think this will escalate if I don’t shut up, like the message told me to do?”
“It could. I’d treat this as an active threat.”
“Meaning?”
“Use caution and common sense. Pay attention to your surroundings while you’re out and about. Stay away from dark alleys. Don’t wander around by yourself at night. Do you by chance have a concealed carry permit?”
She swallowed. “No. While I fully support the constitutional right to bear arms, guns make me nervous. Even if I had one, I don’t know that I could ever pull the trigger.”
“You might be surprised what you could do in the face of an imminent threat.”
She tipped her head, scrutinizing him. “Is that experience talking?”
Yeah, it was.
But he wasn’t discussing that subject today.
“Let’s just say I’ve been in a few dicey situations during my law enforcement career.”
“That’s the same kind of vague answer Cate gives me whenever I ask questions about her experiences on the street. But no worries. I respect people’s privacy. We all have subjects that are off limits. Any other advice?”
“Would your station spring for personal protection while we try to sort this out?”
Her eyes widened. “You mean like . . . a bodyguard?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that overkill?”
“I don’t know—and I don’t like unknowns. It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”
“Well, a bodyguard’s not going to happen. The station doesn’t have a budget for anything like that. I have a decent audience, and ad revenues have been rising as my reach expands with more and more syndication deals, but protection would have to be on my dime. And that would be a big price to pay for a little peace of mind.”
He couldn’t argue with that—and her answer didn’t surprise him. Few people had the financial resources to fund personal security.
Truth be told, with most victims of a hoax like this, he wouldn’t have broached the subject. It was possible this was a one-off. Someone had decided to take a big chance to make a point—and was hoping the impact was sufficient to shut Eve down. If the attempt failed, they might chalk it up to a nice try and be glad they got away with it once.
Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to this. That someone had Eve in their sights—and wasn’t about to be deterred by one failure.
But given her pallor, the notion of a bodyguard had only added to her stress—and beyond a gut feeling, he had nothing to justify pushing the idea.
Backpedal, Lange. Tone down the warning and reassure her. She won’t sleep a wink tonight if you leave her like this.
Standing, he kept his expression neutral. “In that case, go with the watch-your-back plan. In the meantime, I’ll put pressure on the lab to get to the package ASAP. I’ll also call Doug Whitney about reviewing the recent negative communication you’ve received and get the paperwork started for a phone trap on the calls coming in to your program’s 800 number.”
She slid off her stool too and twisted her wrist to see her watch. “Long day for you. You missed dinner.”
“I never expected regular hours in this job. I’ll hit a drive-through on the way home.”
Her gaze flicked to his left hand.
The lady was doing a ring check.
“Um . . . I don’t have a bunch of food in the house, but I’d be happy to make an omelet or throw together a quick stir-fry if you’d like to forego the fast food. I feel like it’s the least I can do after ruining your Friday night.”
Dinner with Eve Reilly.
Tempting.
Very tempting.
But mixing business and pleasure wasn’t smart.