CHAPTER NINETEEN
“READY TO HEAD OVER TO MY PLACE?” SKYE ASKED.
Edge’s gaze ran over her. She looked good—too good—her dark curls loose around her shoulders, her cheeks still flushed from her time in the shower. He felt a familiar stirring in his loins, forced himself to ignore it.
“I thought about calling,” she said. “But I’d rather keep it casual. No stress, just a few easy questions.”
“Good idea.”
They walked the few blocks to Skye’s apartment building, and Edge pulled open the big glass front door. As they crossed the lobby, he looked up to see Trace walking toward them.
“I came over to check on Molly,” he said, “but she isn’t here. Callie says she packed her things and left early this morning.”
“Oh, no,” Skye said.
“I hope she knows what she’s doing,” Edge said.
“She’s afraid of her ex,” Trace needlessly explained, since they all knew exactly why Molly had run.
“Did she tell Callie where she was going?” Skye asked.
“She has friends somewhere in the Midwest,” Trace said. “Apparently, that’s all she was willing to say.”
Edge set a hand at Skye’s waist. “Let’s go on up, see if there’s anything else Callie can tell us.”
Skye waived to the guard in the lobby, a pudgy guy who recognized her as one of the residents. The guard waved back, and they started for the elevators.
Trace’s deep voice stopped them. “Ask Callie to tell Molly I stopped by to see if she was okay, will you?”
“You bet,” Edge said. Trace was one of the good guys. He was worried about the young woman he’d helped rescue. If Harley Purcell decided to go after her, Trace might have good reason to be concerned.
They headed upstairs, and Callie opened the door to let them in.
“Molly’s gone,” she said first thing. “I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. She’s terrified Harley will find her.”
“Trace told us,” Skye said.
“You know where she was headed?” Edge asked.
“She said it was better if I didn’t know. That way Harley couldn’t force me to tell.”
“Harley isn’t coming near you,” Skye promised.
“Not if we find him first,” Edge added. “To do that we need your help.” Their hope was that Purcell would be with Henson and they could round up the whole lot of them.
Callie sighed. “I’ve told you everything I know. What more can I do?”
“Maybe nothing,” Edge said. “On the other hand, if we go over everything again step-by-step, maybe you’ll remember some little detail, something that might turn out to be useful.”
Callie nodded. “Sure. Okay.”
“Why don’t I make us a pot of coffee?” Skye suggested. “Then we’ll talk.”
As the women worked together at the kitchen counter, Edge heard Skye telling Callie that Sarah’s body had been found, followed by Callie’s quick intake of breath.
“Those vicious bastards,” Callie said, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I can’t believe the DEA let them get away.”
“The investigation is only getting started,” Skye reminded her as the coffee brewed.
