“My twin.” Her throat bobbed for a minute. “Jane. Six years ago, going on seven now.”
We were quiet for a moment, but I covered her hand with mine. There wasn’t any need to ask if they’d found her. It was obvious that they hadn’t.
Finally, I said, “There’s a lot of evil in the world. Sometimes it’s hard to understand how much. You’re still speaking up for people who can’t be heard. I respect that.”
We reached the end of the vendor row, where a big oak tree split the shadows. Strings of soft bulbs wrapped around its trunk, casting honey-colored light over her face. She leaned against the railing there, the wooden beam pressing into the small of her back, and looked atme like she was about to say something important, then reconsidered.
“You know this case you’re on …” I swallowed. “It isn’t exactly safe. Are you doing it all alone?”
She nodded. “Mostly. I have a squad that helps. They handle some of the background work, load the recordings for me, and manage the media side of things. I used to do it myself, but I got too busy. But for the most part, I do the on-the-ground stuff on my own. I prefer it that way.”
“That’s not safe.” The thought of her working alone in the field made me sick to my stomach. There was no limit to the unpredictability when human beings felt cornered. I would be surprised if she hadn’t already been threatened with bodily harm on one of her cases.
Her eyes flicked to mine—steady, unreadable. “I’m careful. I have a taser.” Her chin firmed up.
A taser. Jesus.
I’d been trying hard to keep my mouth shut, but all my thoughts were building up and about to spill over until finally I snapped out, “Careful people don’t go wandering around the last known place someone got abducted.”
“Well, I do. It’s my job, Kipp. It’s all part of it.” She didn’t look uncomfortable; if anything, she looked accustomed to being questioned about her work.
“That area where her car was found is deserted for a reason. In the last seven years, we’ve had three assaults there.” My jaw flexed as her hand trembled and she shoved her hair over her shoulder. “You shouldn’t go there by yourself. Or at all for that matter. Just because the areas around here are small doesn’t mean that they have no crime.”
“I’ve been in worse places.”
“That’s not comforting.” My teeth ground together as I thought of her soft skin and how breakable she was. I wasn’t denying that she was capable, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be taken by surprise. Anyone was fair game in the woods. Anyone.
Her lips twitched, but I could see the tiredness now, the flicker of fear she’d been pretending wasn’t there.
“I can’t just sit in a room with files and hope the answers fall into my lap,” she said. “People vanish into thin air, Kipp. Someone has to track down where they disappeared. Most of the time, the police are doing their best, but sometimes other cases get in the way. Or sometimes…” she shrugged, but I heard the words that she wasn’t saying. Sometimes people turned up dead. Bad things happened to good people.
“Then at least let someone go with you.” My voice dropped. “Or do me a favor and stay away from the police chief out in Briar Falls.”
Her brow lifted, and she popped a hand on her hip. “Intriguing. Tell me more.”
I could practically see the shift into investigator mode, and it was a turn-on. My one serious relationship had been with a woman who was so vapid you could see straight through her. It was a mistake being with someone who hadn’t had an original thought in her head. Hattie was the exact opposite. You could see the gears turning as she watched me with her eyes fixed on me, sharp and calculating. She was running through my words, picking them apart for clues. She clocked them instantly, eager to extract every last morsel from their bones.
“Chief Galloway is the kind of man who smiles at you like he’s thinking of all the ways he can get away with something.” Shifting my weight, I felt the familiar irritation rise beneath my skin. “And he’s been pissy since the Allison Finch case. He doesn’t want anyone poking around it.”
That got her attention. Her eyes sharpened. “You know about that case.”
“Not specifically,” I admitted. “But I know of the chief over there. Small towns.”
Her breath caught, enough for me to notice. “Kipp,” she said softly, “I don’t need anyone to worry about me or expect you to. Just so you know, it’s not your place to understand or give me permission.”
“Well,” I said, stepping closer, “too damn late. I’m invested now.”
There had been anger in her voice earlier, but now the slight tremble of her inhale, and the way her gaze dropped to my mouth before quickly looking away revealed she was drawing me in. Maybe I’d thought that one night would be enough, but that wasn’t going to work for me anymore.
“You had a rough day.” I hadn’t missed the slight redness that lingered around her eyes.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I did.”
“We can walk more,” I said. “Or sit somewhere. Or I can take you back. Whatever you need.”
She looked up at me then—and there was something raw in her gaze. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“That’s easy to remedy.” I stepped into her space before I could think better of it. Hattie’s lips brushed against the edge of my jaw. Her hands hovered at my belt loop, close enough that the air felt charged. “I’m not going anywhere,” I told her. “Luckily, we’re neighbors. There are perks that people in Cabin Six get.”
