“Shockingly, I don’t seem to be ready to call it a night either,” Sabrina admitted, moving closer as they stood on the edge of the half-frozen pond. She shivered, her hand trembling slightly in his.
“Cold?”
She shrugged. “Not enough to break up the team.”
Nearly everything she said made him smile, but that widened his grin to the point of ridiculous. “You feel it too?”
“Sure. I think you finished my sentences a couple of times at dinner. The question is, what are we going to call ourselves? Team Saboah? Nobina?”
She’d combined their names.
Something in his chest twinged, and he nearly put his hand over it until he realized it was his heart. And cluing her in that she’d crawled right inside would not do for a first date.
Maybe the second one.
“Either works.” He cleared his throat. “You choose.”
“I appreciate a man who takes suggestion well.” She actually looked pleased, which did not help whatever was going on inside him. “What will our first order of business be?”
He bit his tongue before he said,Get married and live happily ever after. Definitely not first-date material…or second. He needed to reel it way back before he scared the living daylights out of her.
“The case,” he said instead. Which was what they should be talking about.
What hewantedto talk about.
This was his shot at getting back into the investigative journalism game. He could feel it. None of this had happened randomly. Not meeting Sabrina. Not being called to the site in Peavine Canyon, when the USFS could have tapped a dozen or more SAR teams.
Not this feeling that he was at the edge of something spectacular whenever he locked gazes with this woman.
“I covered a case in Colorado a few years back,” he said, his mind warming up, testing out underused muscles as it started spinning connections. “Young woman found in hiking territory wearing city clothes. It was ruled accidental death, but something never sat right about the scene.”
“Similar to our Jane Doe?” Sabrina’s focus sharpened, and he liked that look on her way too much.
“Too similar, maybe. I started digging, found other cases in Utah and Wyoming with the same pattern.” He ran a hand through his hair as the circumstances rushed back, reminding him why he’d never written that article. “But I had to drop the investigation.”
“You think our Jane’s death could be connected?”
“The staging is similar. Deliberate placement in outdoor recreation areas, victims in street clothes rather than hiking gear.” The pieces were starting to align in his head, and he welcomed the opportunity to move on from why he hadn’t finished the investigation—and the fact that she hadn’t asked. “I still have my research files. And contacts in law enforcement across three states.”
“While I have access to Forest Service incident reports.” She nodded, clearly following his train of thought. “We could cross-reference similar cases, look for patterns.”
This. This was exactly why he’d broached the subject with her. She would be a fantastic partner; he could already tell. “My journalism background plus your insider knowledge of the area and department resources? We’d make a great investigative team.”
“You were a journalist?” Her confusion cleared instantly. “That’s why you seem so sharp and detail-oriented. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but you don’t miss much.”
Noah had never felt so flattered in his life. “Guilty.”
She snapped her fingers. “That’s why you wanted to team up—to solve this case. So you can write about it.”
“Yeah. In a nutshell. How does that work for you?”
“I’m in. Completely. As long as we keep it quiet.”
It was only after she agreed that he realized how much he’d wanted her to say yes. To everything. Sweet relief eased the tight set of his shoulders.
Her expression turned thoughtful. “The police won’t appreciate unofficial interference in an active investigation.”
“I’m good at working behind the scenes.” The thrill of the hunt was already humming in his veins. “And you know how to work the system from the inside.”
