Once we left the restaurant, Jared was all business. I wondered if I should have taken advantage of the moment and pushed for him to reveal his secret. I also wondered if I should tell him that I suspected his dream the night before was more like a chaperoned visit.
He put his sunglasses on, and I did as well. The lenses, which had formerly hidden the golden ring around my eyes from the world, now seemed an extra barrier between us. Although he had remained polite, his manner had chilled, and I wished I hadn’t accepted his offer of a ride back to Salem from him.
“Tell me about Lonna Marconi-Fortuna,” he said as we walked toward the parking garage where he kept a car in a rented space.
I shrugged. “I wish I could help you, but I only met her a couple of times and don’t know her at all.”
