Kyle heard a knock at the door. He got up from the desk and made his way through the penthouse, not realizing he’d been grinning the whole way until he saw his reflection in the foyer mirror.

Chill out, dickhead. She’s just some girl you walked home.

Perhaps this was, in fact, all a bizarre coincidence, and she really was there to talk about some case. Or maybe…it was something else. Maybe she’d been thinking about him all week, the same way he’d been thinking about her, and just couldn’t stay away.

His smile widened. Only one way to find out.

Kyle opened the door and saw her standing on his doorstep, long, dark hair a-flowing and looking like a Hitchcock heroine, with her belted trench coat and high heels, and carrying a briefcase at her side.

“Counselor,” he drawled.

“Mr. Rhodes,” she said, her voice slightly husky.

That was as far as they’d made it on Tuesday. But this time, there were no reporters, no cameras, and no team of defense attorneys. It was just the two of them now.

Kyle pushed open the door. “Come on in.”

“Thank you for meeting with me.” She brushed past him, the delicate scent of something floral and feminine trailing after her, and stepped into the foyer.

He shut the door, then turned and looked her over. Nine years ago, she’d been eye-catchingly attractive, but now there was something else, something more polished, sophisticated, and undeniably appealing.

Something a man who’d spent most of the last five months in prison would be hard-pressed not to notice.

“It’s been a while, Ms. Pierce,” he said.

Her lips twitched in a smile. “Actually, it’s only been about a week.”

He folded his arms across his chest challengingly. “Couldn’t stay away?”

She opened her mouth to say something, then appeared to change her mind. “Maybe we should sit down somewhere and talk.”

Right. About this mysterious “investigation.” He gestured to the open expanse of the loft-style penthouse. “Make yourself at home.”

Rylann walked into the living room area, curiously checking out the place. “Looks like you’ve done well for yourself these past few years.” She threw him a sideways look, her eyes dancing with amusement. “Aside from that tiny issue with Twitter.”

“Just so I know, how many jokes can I expect about that?”

“It’s almost too easy,” she said with a laugh. “You once said that someone was going to cause a lot of panic and mayhem if companies didn’t start paying more attention to denial of service attacks. How prescient of you.”

Kyle stopped. “You actually remember I said that?”

Rylann paused for a moment, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Only because of the Twitter fiasco.” Moving on, she took a seat in one of the sleek Italian leather armchairs and set her briefcase on the floor.

Kyle sat on the couch across from her, watching as she slid off her coat, revealing a dark gray suit with a cream silk shirt underneath. “Before you say anything else, maybe we should address the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room.”

She looked momentarily confused. “Meaning…?”

“About that night.” He held her gaze. “I assume you know why I never showed up for our date?”

Her expression softened. “Oh. Yes. I was very sorry to hear about your mother.”

“Thank you.” Kyle tried to lighten the mood, glad to have that bit of awkwardness out of the way. “It’s a shame, you know. Because I was going to be really charming on that date. You wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

She laughed. “I’m sure you think that.”

Kyle stretched his arm along the back of the couch, getting more comfortable. “So. What brings you here tonight, Rylann Pierce?”

She shifted in her chair, then crossed one leg over the other. “Murder, actually.”

Kyle blinked, and his grin faded. Whatever he’d been expecting her to say, it wasn’t that. “Murder?”

“Yes. An inmate was beaten to death at MCC two weeks ago.”

From her expression, he could tell she was serious. And just like that, the whole tone of their conversation changed. “You’re really here about a case,” he said, not realizing until that moment how much he’d begun to convince himself otherwise.

She cocked her head, as if not following. “Why else would I be here?”

So much for not looking like a dickhead. “Never mind. Tell me what happened at MCC.”

She proceeded to do exactly that. Kyle said nothing as Rylann related the circumstances surrounding Darius Brown’s death and explained her belief that Quinn, the prison guard, had orchestrated the attack in retaliation.

“We know that Quinn and Brown had a previous altercation,” she said, “and that Brown came out of disciplinary segregation and told his friends that Quinn had threatened him.”

Hearing that, Kyle got up and began pacing the room.

“We know that you were also in disciplinary segregation during that time, in the cell next to Brown,” she continued. “I came here to find out whether you heard that threat. Candidly, I’m hoping you did.”

She fell quiet then, waiting for his response.

Kyle stopped with his back to her, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the lake. In the distance, he could see the Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. ” ‘You’re gonna pay for what you did to my wrist, you piece of shit.’ ” He turned around. “Is that the threat you’re looking for?”