Page 27 of Traces of Kara

Mimi gave him a stern look. Kara hadn’t had a group of real friends since they’d moved. After that, Kara had become cautious. Fallout from Mimi’s divorce and the sudden relocation had left her scarred. In an effort to help Kara move past the events and forget them, Mimi had never spoken of them again. Within a few short weeks, Kara seemed to have forgotten why they’d moved and what they’d left behind, but she’d never fully outgrown her newfound shyness or tendency toward solitude. Mimi had never shared the details with Ted; she simply hadn’t seen the need. Ted had assumed that Kara was just a loner, someone who preferred solitude over friendships.

“Maybe we should ask someone at her apartment complex? Maybe someone saw her? Or maybe she went out after work with Joe and Paige. I can call them,” Ted offered.

“I already called Paige. She said she and Joe didn’t see Kara at all during their shift or after, but they knew she was there. She’d punched in and out.”

“Isn’t that unusual?”

“Paige said it’s not. She said with the new skeleton crew there are only four of them, and they rarely see each other. They take care of their own areas and Kara’s always studying.”

“Maybe we should take a ride over, check things out. That’s the last time anyone saw her?”

“That we know of.”

“Well, let’s drop by her apartment first. Maybe we’ll see Dean or someone who’s seen her.”

Mimi didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you think we’re overreacting? The last thing I need is for Kara to get upset at me for meddling.”

“We’re not going to the police or anything. We’re just checking things out.”

“I…um…”

“Oh, Mimi. Really?” His eyes hardened. “You went to see Mitchell Grant?”

Mimi knew there’d be a price to pay. The alpha male struggle between Ted and Mitch had been there since Mimi had gotten together with Ted. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“A grown woman is missing for a few hours and your first thought is to go to him, and not me?”

“No! It was my second or third thought, and I didn’t go to see Mitch, specifically. I went to the police, in general. I don’t know. I just went, but I left before reporting it.”

Ted shook his head. “You’re a prize, Mim. No one can say you don’t love your daughter.”

She’d take that compliment, even if it was said with more than a hint of sarcasm.

Chapter Twenty

Mark sat in his car, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup and watching cars filter into the parking lot of the Woodsbury Apartments. Roland’s truck had yet to appear. He checked his watch: five p.m. Where is that bastard? He’d stopped by Henry’s office earlier—still no word from Roland. He picked up his cell phone and dialed the courthouse. Marci answered on the third ring.

“Hello, darlin’,” he said.

“Mark. Hi, hon. How’s your day?”

“Not bad. What’s Judge Weister up to? Busy?” Maybe he could get a search warrant for Roland’s apartment. His gut told him something wasn’t right.

“What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, just wondering,” he lied.

“I have a feeling you’re about to tell me you can’t make our date tonight.”

Mark pictured the smirk on Marci’s face, the glint in her eye. Ten years younger than his thirty-eight, she loved when Mark played cop. A tingle ran up Mark’s thighs just thinking about how hot she’d be when he finally showed up. He’d embellish, as he always did—it was worth the extra energy she’d put forth.

“Now, I didn’t say that, did I?”

“How long have we been together? Two years? And how many times have I heard this same thing in your voice?” She laughed.