Pat laughs. “Danielle? Yeah, sure. I brought her to the airport. Why? She too much for you?”
The joke falls flat, hitting too close to home. “I don’t suppose she mentioned where she was going?” Brief images of her phone screen flash in my mind’s eye.
“No, but she was wearing a wool blazer and no scarf or gloves. I’m guessing somewhere warm.”
Fuck. Now I remember. Sam Spade. Orlando.“What time did you drop her off?”
“Around six this morning.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.”
“Good luck.”
Dammit. Despite the sabotage to her car and me threatening to lock her up, Danielle is still pursuing her own friggin’ investigation. I am a goddamned idiot. She had this planned all along. Get me to bed, make me think she cares, and when I drop my guard, she bolts.
Fucking Christ on a cracker. My fists clench and I punch the bed. Then, I schedule Pat to come pick me up.
While I wait, I call Brianna, our dispatcher and deputy in training. “I need you to send me the passenger lists of all flights leaving Burlington to Florida. Also, find the address of a girl named Arianna Patel. She dropped out of Middlebury sometime last year. If you contact my brother Greg, his wife is the registrar. She can help you out.”
By the time I arrive at the airport, I have Danni’s flight number. With any luck, my flight will land soon after hers and the sheriff will see fit to reimburse me instead of fire me. I leave a voice mail and do my best to explain while leaving out the sex.
The whole trip, I curse myself a new asshole. I wanted Danni so badly, I neglected to see how she was using me. How well do I know her? Maybe this is her thing. Maybe she fancies herself a femme fatale, a lady James Bond who sleeps around to get the information she needs for her online sleuthing shenanigans.
Sam Spade?I remember, now.She probably slept with him, too.
I am such a loser. No more Mr. Nice Guy. My heart constricts and the back of my throat tightens. For one night, I pictured a different life with a wife, kids, maybe a dog or two, and a white picket fence.
Well, it’s time to end the pity party and direct my anger toward the woman who fucked me over, literally.
While the plane taxis in Orlando, I call Brianna. “Did you find the girl I asked about?”
“Check your emails. A red KIA is waiting to take you to Arianna’s.” I hang up, trot toward the airport exit and jump in my Uber.
About an hour later, it parks in front of a one-story cape cod where I spot Danielle exiting the building.
I tap the lady driver on the back. “Wait, I’ll be right back.”
Jumping out into the mild air, I block the sidewalk. “Surprised to see me?”
“Cole?” Her mouth drops open and her palms face me as she backs up the steps. She needn’t be afraid. I am fuming but more at myself than her.
“Turn around, go back in, and tell Arianna that Deputy Abbott needs to talk to her.” Yeah, my voice is cold. This woman slept with me so she could high tail it off to Florida and leave me in the dark.
“Listen, I can explain.” Her blond brows lift and when she tries to touch my arm, I push it away.
“Save it.” I ring the bell and no one answers.
“She won’t talk to you. She hates the Middlebury police.”
“Of course, she does. You poisoned her against me.”
“What? No. This isn’t about you.” She pokes my chest. “She told Al how Jeff had sex with her.”
“And?”
“He told her to get a paternity test.”
“Did Kincaid force her?” Rape is a serious crime but with no forensics, no lawyer in his right mind would take her case.
