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“Starting now, these women cannot be out on their own. They need a chaperone or a pageant official with them at all times. Talk to those in charge and tell them that’s how it will be for the rest of the week. I can’t compromise my cover, so you two and the FBI will need to address this with them.” Anderson and Sean agreed, then left.

I kept hoping Lindsey might turn up on her own, but I knew it was unlikely.

It was close to midnight before I got home, but when I walked in the door, Craig was reading a book on the sofa. His glasses were perched low on his nose as he glanced up at me with a gentle smile.

“Hi,” was all he said. He didn’t ask questions, and I knew he’d wait for me to fill him in with details.

“Hi,” I answered softly as I sat next to him. “Yup, we have another contestant missing. It was all hands-on deck tonight. Several officers and the FBI will be up through the night trying to locate her. As of now, there’s no sign.”

“Shit,” he replied, almost under his breath. “Since you’ve been undercover, did anyone see you tonight?”

“No. I stayed in the surveillance van and the guys came to me to coordinate efforts.”

It had been a long, crazy day, and I was exhausted. I leaned into him and put my head in his lap. His fingers sought my scalp, and he massaged it as best he could with one good hand.

“That feels nice,” I praised. “Why are you still up?”

“I had a long nap today, remember? I’m not sleepy. I thought maybe reading a book might help. But nope.”

The silence, apart from the rhythm of his breathing, was welcome. I knew I could easily drift off.

“I’ll be able to do more tomorrow when I go back backstage. I’m sure the rumors around her disappearance are being passed around like a bowl of chips.”

“Who went missing?” he asked.

I let out a deep sigh. “Her name is Lindsey Thomas. She’s from Stockton. What really chaps my hide is that I touched up her makeup and chatted with her backstage yesterday. She told me all about her plans. She was in my chair last night, getting ready for her first round of interviews. She’s a lovely woman, and it pisses me off that she might be a victim.”

“Well, we know who most of the culprits are, right? Perhaps putting tails on them will give you more answers. They may make a mistake this time, which could be helpful.”

“I thought of that. I’m going to have Sean coordinate with Lieutenant Anderson first thing in the morning.” I slowly brought my head up and leaned in for a kiss. He cupped my face as he returned it. “I need to get some sleep. I gotta get up in five hours to get ready.”

“I’ll follow you,” he said when I stood up.

I reached out to grip his good wrist and helped him to his feet. As we headed to the bedroom, he said, “Did I tell you about the concierge at Bally’s I had drinks with?”

I stopped mid-stride, my shoulders tensing. “No, you didn’t. Did you say you had drinks with him?”

He chuckled and touched my arm. “Baby, I was playing reporter, remember? I only got friendly with him to get information. He was a little flirtatious. And before the green-eyed monster raises its ugly head, I told him I was already taken.”

“O-kaaay. And what did you get out of him?”

“Nothing your gutter brain is thinking,” he snarked as he went into the bedroom, me on his heels. “His name is Simon, and he couldn’t tell me much. Anyway, I called him today while Chloe was here. I wanted to speak with his boss, Mr. Sheffield, but he said Sheffield had left suddenly for vacation. And guess where he was headed? Here…in San Francisco.”

“Alright, so what does that have to do with what’s going on in the pageants?”

“I don’t know, but he’s been very evasive and hasn’t returned my messages. I just think it’s weird, and my gut is telling me something is up with him.”

“Craig, people come to the city on vacation all the time. Maybe he was just trying to get everything done before he left on his trip and didn’t have time to call you back. I don’t think his priority was to call a reporter, especially one who’s snooping around for a story that’s probably embarrassing for him if he’s in a management position.”

“Maybe,” he replied, scrunching up his face. “I’d still like to check him out. Get some background information.”

“You’re refusing to just relax and heal, aren’t you?”

“I’m feeling better. And I’m bored as hell. Doing those breathing exercises doesn’t fill my day.”

I dropped my head in exasperation. “At least you’re doing them. Okay, but have Chloe help you out. I don’t want you to over-extend yourself. Your noggin is still recovering.”

“Can she come over here and help me?”