I’msorry to bother you, April. Your personal assistant said you were on vacation, but this can’t wait. You know how important the first seventy-two hours are in these missing persons cases.
Dr. April Chandrakanta couldn’t get the frantic voice of her old friend, Gil Remington, out of her mind. She’d replayed their conversation inside her head at least a dozen times during the long drive from Dallas. Gil was a retired sheriff-turned-security-firm owner. He, too, very much understood how drastically the chances of finding a missing person dropped once they’d been missing for over three days.
After receiving the call from Gil this morning, she’d probably set a record with how fast she packed her suitcase and loaded her work supplies into her car. She was very sure she’d broken a few speed limits over the past several hours. Lifting her tumbler of tea from the console, she took a sip to chase away the dryness in her mouth.
I’m not ready for this.
She reduced her speed as she approached the city limit sign for Heart Lake. It had been a long time since she’d last driven through the foothills of the Christmas Mountains—twenty-six years to be exact. And twenty-six years ago, she’d vowed never to return.
Yet here I am.
She was coming to town to examine a set of bones someone had deposited in the overnight drop box at the Heart Lake Police Department. Gil’s company, Lonestar Security, was assisting with the case. She wasn’t clear on the details yet, but she’d soon find out thewhy,how, andwhatof it. Her heartbeat raced, fueled by a mix of anticipation and dread over what her investigation might uncover.
It wasn’t the prospect of studying human bones that bothered her. She was very good at getting bones to telltheir stories. Nor was she overly concerned that the outcome of a missing persons case might weigh heavily on her research. She was accustomed to working on high-stakes projects within tight time constraints.
What she wasn’t accustomed to doing was recognizing the name of the missing person. He was someone she’d known, loved, and still loved if she was being honest with herself. They had unfinished business between them, and now he might be dead.
Even worse, he might be alive…and a killer.
“Pizza’s here!”Ryder spun away from the window in the living room, where he’d been glued for the past ten minutes.
“I’ve got it!” Owen hurried to the door to pay the delivery guy and returned with five large pizzas and a container of hot wings.
Halle wrinkled her nose at Jen. “I know that pizza and chips aren’t the most nutritious dinner in the world.” Having a health nut for a sister-in-law made her self-conscious about the corners she sometimes cut on meal preparation for convenience’s sake. She pulled the plastic wrapper off a stack of paper plates and set them on the bar, knowing she was doing the best she could. At her request, Owen had selected thin crust over the deep-dish crust that would’ve been oozing with extra cheese. To appease her conscience further, she’d asked him to order extra veggies on one pizza.
“Oh, ye of little faith!” Jen stood beside the bar, gently rocking Harper. Her niece had a belly full of milk and was snoozing contentedly in her arms. “I’m the one whobrought the chips, remember?” Her eyes twinkled merrily. “I can guarantee they’re packed with enough nutrition for kids, nursing moms, grown men, and sisters of grown men alike.”
“Uh-oh! What did you do to them?” Halle was almost afraid to ask.
“I baked them myself,” Jen announced proudly. “You’re welcome.”
“I will admit to being her partner in crime.” Rex stepped around Jen, brandishing the basket of homemade chips.
Halle didn’t miss the besotted look he gave her sister-in-law and figured it was only a matter of time before he got down on a knee and offered Jen a ring. For a woman who’d never married or had children of her own, Jen was a natural at rocking babies to sleep. No doubt she’d gotten plenty of practice while helping her brother raise the twins.
Rex unveiled the chips by removing the red-and-white checked towel Jen had covered them with, setting the basket on the serving bar with a gallant flourish.
“Whoa!” Ryder hopped up on a stool to peer inside the basket, eyes growing wide. “Those look cool!”
Cooper climbed onto the lower rung of his brother’s stool to have a look. “They’re all different colors. I want to try them all!”
The sparkle in Jen’s eyes grew downright cocky. “Such a cool aunt!”
After Owen gathered everyone in the kitchen and said grace over the food, the boys dove for the chips before the pizza. They tried each color and pronounced them the best chips they’d ever eaten.
Halle pulled Jen aside. “Is it a secret family recipe, or are you willing to share?”
“Brussels sprouts baked to perfection,” she teased.
Halle rolled her eyes. “Nice try, but those aren’t Brussels sprouts.”
“True.” Jen chuckled. “They’re actually thin-sliced carrots, white potatoes, blue potatoes, and zucchini. I lightly tossed them in olive oil and sea salt, then baked them until they were crispy.”
“They’re a hit with the boys.” Halle mentally recorded the recipe, intending to try it soon.
Jen joined the boys at the cabinet, refusing to tell them how she’d turned the blue chips blue. They launched into a volley of guessing—each guess more ridiculous than the last.
Owen’s arms slid around Halle’s waist from behind. He kissed her cheek. “Thank you for all your hard work today and every day.”
