Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
She snorts. “Then she’d better be ready to start paying full rent.”
“The cash I gave you should cover at least a couple of nights, plus enough for your trouble.” I hold up the driver’s phone number. “I’m taking this.”
I leave the smoke-filled office and head back to my truck where Holly’s waiting for me.
“Did she have it?” Holly asks. I pass the card to her as I slide behind the steering wheel. “Whose number is this?”
“The driver’s possibly.”
I start the engine and pull onto the street.
“Should we call it?”
“Nah,” I say. “I’d rather not let this guy know we’re onto him. As soon as we get to my place, I’ll call my partner and ask her to look it up.” I’m also gonna ask Abby to reach out to her CI one more time. See if he can get a last name for the female recruiter. “How might this guy have known which room you and Kenzie are staying in?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Kenzie told him. I mean, he was supposed to bring her home.” Holly traces the numbers on the card with her finger. “Did Doreen say who he was asking about?”
“She did. He’s looking for both of you.”
“That’s good.” She smiles, relieved. “Kenzie must’ve gotten away.”
“There’s a very good chance she did. But I still don’t like the idea that he’s after you.”
“Thanks to you, I don’t have to worry about that.” Suddenly, her relief turns to worry. “If I’m not at the hotel when Kenzie comes back—”
“It’s all right,” I tell her. “I gave your boss my card, along with a little financial incentive to pass along the message.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Even as Holly says the words, I can tell from her tone that she’s grateful. “I’ll pay you back.”
“How about you let me worry about the lengths to which I’ll go to protect you?”
Her face glows as pink as a sunset as she nibbles her bottom lip. I should let the moment pass, but I can’t resist reaching over to pat her leg. She closes her eyes. Is that fear I see playing out across her features, or something sweeter?
If it’s fear, then I’ve got a long way to go to get us back to where we were last night.
Knowing I’ve lied to her twice now eats away at me like bile. The first time, I lied about who I was. The second lie was technically a half-truth about the nature of my case. I just don’t see the point in making her more anxious than she already is. Missing girls can very quickly turn into dead ones.
There’s a good chance McKenzie is out there somewhere, hunkered down, or trying to get back to Holly. But there’s an equal chance this bald driver will find her first.
Holly’s already been through enough. She doesn’t need to hear that this is a story I’ve heard a dozen times, and I sure as hell don’t have to tell her that all those stories end the same way: with a dead girl lying in a field somewhere.
We pull up to my apartment complex and make the short walk to my unit. I ask Holly to wait on the front porch while I run inside and straighten up.
Really, I’m just gathering up pictures of victims and missing persons. I have an office upstairs, but seeing as how I live alone, I tend to do a lot of multitasking. Eating take-out at the kitchen table while reading cold cases and such.
I open the door and make room for her to step inside. Holly’s brows knit together as her big, brown eyes take in the lack of décor. Most of my personal items never made it out of the boxes I shoved into the corner of my living room.
“When did you move in?” she asks, turning in a slow circle.
“A few years ago.” I scrub a hand through my hair, not used to feeling self-conscious. It’s been a long time since I had someone over. “I don’t spend much time at home. Mostly I just come here to sleep and think.”
Besides the kitchen appliances that came with the place, all I really have in terms of furniture is a table, two chairs, a loveseat, and a couple of standing lamps. There’s a TV on the wall that I never watch, and some built-in bookcases collecting more dust than books.
I bring Holly upstairs and show her where the bathroom is and briefly point out my office, closing the door before she can get a good look at the white board. My bedroom is just that: a room with a bed. The only bed.
“You’ll sleep in here,” I tell her.
“Where will you sleep?” She sits down on the bed—on my bed. I can’t remember the last time I had a woman in my bed. Definitely not in this apartment.