Not wasting a second, he picked up a chicken leg and started gnawing on it, making happy sounds.
Her stomach grumbled again. She lifted the beans to her mouth and forgot about her shortcomings, content to enjoy the simple cuisine. Leclair had bought her a fried chicken breast. She hadn’t said a word, but that was her favorite part of a chicken. His was obviously the drumstick.
“What’s that ring on your left hand?”
“I found it in a junk shop and liked the mount. It’s not a diamond, just a cut glass insert.” She started to tell him Coop had the ring made with a hidden LED for her, but that would open up a whole new set of questions.
She’d eaten most of her meal when he put the last bone down and devoured his vegetables.
“You like fried okra, huh?” She wrinkled her nose at the vegetable, but she enjoyed the sweet potato casserole he’d chosen for her.
“Love it. Angie would cook it fresh during the summer.”
“You mean Angela?”
He seemed to catch himself and didn’t answer as he wiped his mouth and wadded the napkin to put on the plate. “I never talk about her to strangers, but you found her even after I did all I could to keep her hidden.”
That last bite she swallowed stuck halfway down. “I’m uh, well, I ...”
He crossed his arms, unwilling to help her out of this hole she’d dug.
She had to say it. “I apologize for doing this to you.”
Giving it a minute, he nodded. “I’ll accept that if you’ll treat me like a partner. I can overlook the blackmail part but keep in mind you threatened someone I would do anything to protect. You found my soft spot. Be careful with it.”
He could have yelled and cursed her, but he laid out how important Angela was to him like a gentleman.
Decision time.
She had a chance to win him over to her battle. He’d make a hell of a backup and dangerous enemy.
Taking her own time wiping her fingers and pushing the tray to the side, she leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands. “What would you like to know?”
Rigid lines in his face softened. He still frowned but he was listening. Coop used to tell her to assess a threat level.
Based on the number one being low and fifty being high, Leclair bursting into that basement had blown the top off a thousand. Right now, he was barely registering on the scale.
“Tell me more about Kovac. I want to know how he fits into this.”
She laid out how Kovac had a shipping empire and her mother had met Kovac a year after Hallene’s father had died. “After my father died, I encouraged my mother to get back out in the world and find something she’d like to do. She had been an administrative assistant when married to my father. He hadn’t left her a decent insurance policy. She got a job at Kovac’s company. He noticed her, wined, and dined her. For a woman who had been alone emotionally longer than the year as a widow, his attention had seemed like just what she needed. It all changed over time. He got tired of being a husband and father, so he returned to his bachelor days.”
She would not give him a sob story about her father or her mother’s troubles, just the truth.
Leaning forward on his forearms, Leclair said, “Your mom is sick. Where is she?”
“In hospice.”
“Shit. Cancer?”
“No. They have no idea what is wrong.”
“That’s what you said, but I figured it was narrowed down to a possible disease.”
Hallene gave it a beat then figured she had nothing to lose by being entirely honest. “I think she was poisoned.”
That was the moment Leclair’s attention sharpened as someone locked on a target.
“Who do you think poisoned her?” he asked in a rough voice, one holding back anger.
