Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“I’m working on it,” Kate called back. “The requisition forms have been a pain, and the FBI holds on to money as long as it can. You need a drawer?”
Laurel looked at the basket holding pens and notepads near her left foot. “I require a couple of drawers. Would you put a priority on that one, please?”
“Of course. I’ll do my best.”
Laurel crumpled the burrito wrapper and tossed it into the garbage. She didn’t want to apply pressure on Kate, but she really needed a drawer. She turned to her computer and typed her notes from Jason Abbott’s two recorded jail interviews as a rustle sounded down the hall.
Huck soon filled her doorway. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning.” She gestured toward one of her two leather guest chairs. “Have a seat.”
He dropped into one, his shoulders slightly slumped. “Thanks. No luck on finding the three Bearing men, but we finally tracked down the location of Pastor John Govern.”
“Where was he?”
“Apparently the junior pastor left very early Thursday to go snowmobiling with a group from the church and should return sometime Sunday night, and we have no idea where. They just took off into the Cascades and let the wind lead them,” Huck said. “I find it irritating that Pastor Caine didn’t give us that information.”
Good point. “Perhaps he didn’t know.”
“It was a church event,” Huck said. “I have no doubt Pastor Caine knew all about it. I have half a mind to drag him into interrogation and ask him why he wants to hinder our investigation.”
That might be interesting to watch. For now, she couldn’t read Huck’s expression. “Are you all right?”
He rolled his neck. “No. Rachel Raprenzi won’t stop posting the video of me pulling over Teri Bearing, our latest victim.”
She blinked. “Why?”
“She likes to mess with me.”
Laurel winced. “I’m sorry.”
Huck dug his fingers into the side of his neck as if the muscles had knotted. “She’d love to show some sort of improper relationship between you and me.”
So the news of the pregnancy would be opportune for the reporter. “For now, we need to focus on finding Jason Abbott as well as the Bearings.” Laurel would worry about Rachel’s personal interest in them later. “I spoke with Dr. Ortega’s assistant a few minutes ago about our first victim, the one found by Iceberg River.”
Huck straightened. “Was she my mother?”
“Dr. Ortega is still working to identify bodies and determine the different causes of death from the Seattle nightclub fire. His assistant expressed uncertainty when he’d be able to send us the autopsy results.”
Huck shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the chair, flexing the muscles in his chest. “That’s okay. Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I realize it just doesn’t make sense that the vic is my mother. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Your instincts are often correct.”
His gaze softened. “I thought you weren’t a big believer in instincts.”
“I lack natural instincts, but I believe in yours,” she said honestly.
His smile made him look younger. “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“It is not,” she countered. She could think of many sweet things she had said to him.
“It was sweet. Speaking of sweetness, are you excited about our upcoming appointment with the OB-GYN?”
She had conducted copious research to find the most qualified doctor. “Yes.”
“Will we be able to hear the heartbeat?”
She nodded. “Affirmative. I’ll be more than twelve weeks along, and a Doppler fetal monitor should be able to pick up the baby’s heartbeat.”
Huck grinned full-on this time. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
“Yeah, but do you feel anything? Do you have any sort of mother’s intuition?”
Mother’s intuition. What if she couldn’t relate to the baby as her own mother had to her? She didn’t have those emotions, or she didn’t know how to express them. She reached for a pen to tap on the worn door. “Did you know that while many cultures have myths and old wives’ tales about mothers being able to sense something about their unborn babies, none of it is scientifically verifiable? I have no better chance of guessing than do you.”
“Then I guess it’s a boy,” he said instantly.
She sat back, intrigued. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Gut feeling.”
There was no possible way he could know that fact. She crossed her arms. “We’ll see.”
“Are you ready to tell anybody yet?”
“No. You?”
He shook his head. “No. I figure it’s nobody’s business but ours.”
She liked that. “Did Rachel ask you out again?”
His chin lifted. “Why? You jealous?”
She considered the question. Was she jealous? “No. I’m fairly confident in our relationship. I’m not jealous, just curious.”
“I like that about you,” he said. He often surprised her with that statement.
She never understood to what he referred. “Please clarify.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I just like you.”
She might never fully understand him, but she did trust him. Believing in somebody besides her mom was new for her, especially since her own father was such an abomination. She’s been spared pain in her childhood by not learning of him until recently.