I race to the foyer, half-convinced Grace heard me and is waiting outside. But it’s only my brother. The dog lets out a loud sigh, then stares up at Jasper like it’s his fault she’s so damn disappointed.
“What do you want?” I ask, too weary to force any strength into my tone. “I’m busy.”
“You gonna invite me in? It’s rainin’ hard enough to strangle a toad out here.”
“Not if you’re fixin’ to give me a lecture. I’m walking the trail tomorrow. End of discussion.”
“For fuck’s sake, AJ. What do you expect to find out there? The assholes who took Grace ain’t gonna drive right by you with a ‘Want to get kidnapped? We can help!’ decal on their window.”
“Last I checked, you weren’t my goddamn keeper. My Saturdays are my own. If I want to walk the trail, I’m walkin’ the trail. It’s no skin off your nose what I do with my time. You ain’t gone with me in six weeks, and I sure as shit don’t expect you to start up again now.”
Jasper stiffens, his blue eyes taking on the same frustration I feel deep in my soul. “I stopped going because I can’t stand seein’ what it does to you.”
“I don’t matter here, Jas. Grace does. If she were here—if I were the one missing—she’d be out there every fucking day looking for me.”
“And so would I,” he says, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You’re so deep in your own head, you can’t see I’m on your side.”
The smoke alarm blares. Fuck. The tots.
I race into the kitchen, grab a pot holder, and yank the tray from the oven. The tots are petrified bits of ash, and the burrito exploded in a mess of burnt and blackened cheese.
“Pizza will be here in forty-five minutes,” Jas says from behind me and tucks his phone back into his pocket. “You got any beer?”
“No.”
He opens the fridge and snorts. “You always were a terrible liar.”
I give him the side eye. “I’m a damn good liar as long as I ain’t talking to someone I’ve known since conception.”
Twisting the tops off two bottles of Shiner, he chuckles, then hands me one. “Harris is losin’ patience with you, AJ. You’re dangerously close to getting shitcanned. How many days have you called in sick this month?”
With a shrug, I take a long pull of my beer. If he’s asking the question, he already knows the answer.
“Nine,” Jasper says. “Billings, Schaffer, Urbanski, and I are all workin’ overtime to cover for you—unpaid, by the way—but Harris ain’t gonna let this go on for much longer.”
“This? You mean my wife in the hands of some fucking trafficker? Being tortured as someone’s sex slave? Or her body rotting in some unmarked grave?” I get right in Jasper’s face, but we’re the same height, and after the past few months, he’s got an extra twenty pounds on me. “If Harris would like to put a stop to it, I’d be much obliged.”
“Dammit, AJ. Those Austin PD jackoffs should never have closed the case. Hell, they shouldn’t have opened it to begin with. It should have been ours.” Jasper scrubs his hands over his face, then sighs. “Billings has friends there who’ll keep investigating on the down low. No one’s givin’ up on Grace. But you gotta come back to work. It’s been six months?—”
I grab the bottle out of his hand and heave it at the sink. It lands with a solid thunk. “Get out.”
“AJ—”
“No. You just told me to move on, asshole. Fuck you!”
Belle bounds into the kitchen with a quiet growl. Leaning against my legs, she stares at Jasper like he’s her mortal enemy.
My brother doesn’t move for what feels like forever. I should care that I put that hurt in his eyes.
I don’t.
When he finally shuffles out of the kitchen, I follow him all the way to the door, just so I can slam it in his face as he turns to say goodbye.
Belle circles the bed in the foyer three times, then plops down with a heavy sigh. She’ll stay there until I turn in. Always waiting. Always hoping. Despite taking my side earlier, her big, blue-eyed gaze doesn’t pull any punches. She blames me.
She ain’t the only one.
Grace’s dad hasn’t spoken to me in months. Not since he found out it was that goddamn stakeout that put her on the trail in the first place.
