by Regan Black
“Will that do anything?”
“Yes.” It would get her out of this hallway and help her regain her professional perspective. She eyed his bomber jacket. “Do you have a heavier coat? Gloves?”
“No.”
“What about a car?”
“I walked from the campus,” he replied. “Don’t you have a car?”
“We walk as much as possible on shift,” she said, tipping her head toward Calvin. “It isn’t far.”
The three of them started for the front door, pausing at the kitchen where she introduced Mr. Butler to the manager, Rosie Marlowe. “She’s been a manager here for several years and she knows the regular customers and volunteers quite well.”
Rosie wiped her hands on her apron, kept a firm grip on the fabric while she gave Mr. Butler a long stare.
“Ms. Marlowe, I am very sorry for the disturbance I created,” he said.
“You’re distraught,” Rosie replied. She evidently hadn’t expected him to apologize so graciously. “Many people here have struggles.” She released her apron and beckoned with her hand. “Show me the picture of your sister again.”
The poor guy scrambled for his phone as if he was sure the offer would expire in ten seconds or less.
Rosie studied the picture closely. “She is quite pretty. You said her name is Lara?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
Aubrey watched the muscle in his jaw twitch. In his place, she’d want to point fingers and call Rosie a liar, too.
Rosie returned the phone. Her gaze darted from Aubrey, to Calvin and then settled on Mr. Butler. “She brought in several students to help us the week before Thanksgiving. Again at Christmastime, before her school closed for the winter break.”
“Why didn’t you say that earlier?” Aubrey queried.
“I don’t know this man,” Rosie replied. “What if he wanted to harass or harm Lara? She is a good girl.”
Aubrey exchanged a look with Calvin, but her partner only shrugged. She made a mental note to come back and speak with Rosie again after her shift.
“Have you seen her?” Mr. Butler stood a bit straighter, hope lighting his face.
Rosie shook her head and returned his phone. “I am sorry, no. Not since the new term began.”
All of the hope of a moment ago leached from Mr. Butler’s body. Aubrey half expected him to collapse in a puddle of misery on the floor.
Calvin spoke up. “Rosie, did Lara say anything the last time she was here that stands out now?”
“No.” Rosie’s eyes were full of sympathy and she patted Mr. Butler’s shoulder. “I am sorry I cannot be of more help.”
In a perfect world Aubrey would ask for Calvin to escort Mr. Butler out and give her a minute to question Rosie privately. She had the feeling that would only get Mr. Butler spun up again. She’d come back alone.
“Thank you for your time, Rosie.” She shot the other woman a meaningful glance over her shoulder as they guided Mr. Butler out.
“She did lie to me,” he said.
“Didn’t give her much choice,” Calvin pointed out.
Aubrey chose not to argue the obvious. “You might have noticed this isn’t the nicest street in the neighborhood,” she said. “The people here have learned to be cautious.”
Neither Calvin nor Mr. Butler spoke on the remainder of their walk to the precinct. Aubrey was grateful for the silence. Rosie might not know anything about Lara’s disappearance, but she suspected something. Like Aubrey, the soup kitchen manager knew most of the regular faces in their community.
Someone who’d been in frequently to lend a hand and brought others along would be valued and appreciated. That person would have Rosie’s loyalty. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Rosie hadn’t cooperated with Mr. Butler. She wouldn’t offer up answers about a trusted volunteer. In her shoes, Aubrey would have done the same thing.
Once they were finally back inside the precinct, the blast of heat was a welcome relief from the biting wind outside. Calvin went to write up a summary of their patrol, and Aubrey took Mr. Butler’s official missing person report.
He shrugged off the bomber jacket, revealing a plain blue oxford shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and sat down in the plastic chair next to the desk. Had he removed a tie or just never put one on today? That really wasn’t the point. He wasn’t dressed for the current cold snap. The man needed a thermal layer, warmer shoes and outerwear.
None of which fell in the category of her responsibilities.
She focused on the report, taking down the basics from Lara’s birthdate to her approximate height and weight. She retrieved the most recent photo of Lara from Mr. Butler’s cell phone and sent a request to the school for a copy of Lara’s student ID photo.
Mr. Butler struggled to explain when he’d last seen Lara. He obviously knew the facts, but the process of stating those facts tripped him up and made him emotional.
“Would you like a coffee or hot chocolate, Mr. Butler?” she offered. He needed a break.
“Please call me Leo,” he replied. “Lara would drink half and half,” he continued. “Half coffee and half hot chocolate. She’d put on this silly French accent when she called it ‘café and cocoa’. I can’t do it the way she did.”
“You’ll hear her say it again,” Aubrey assured him.
“Will I?”
An alarm clanged in her head, similar to the alarm when a delivery truck shifted into Reverse. “I can’t make any promises, of course. I’m just encouraging you to keep up a positive outlook.”
He cocked an eyebrow, that dark gold arch a clear challenge.
“We have no reason to believe anything untoward has happened,” Aubrey added in a hurry. She should’ve left this to Calvin. She pushed back from the desk and stood up. “What was your decision on the coffee?”
“Yes, please,” he replied. Leaning forward in the chair, he rested his elbows on his knees, hands hanging loose.
She was almost overcome with the need to soothe, to massage the tension from his neck and make him foolish promises about his finding his sister safe and happy. What a dumb reaction, considering she hadn’t even run a background check on him yet.
She deliberately turned away to find some coffee for him. Her compassionate streak would be the death of her career. Given the chance, her coworkers would put those rose-colored sunglasses on her face at her funeral.
She would take his statement and finish her shift and, most likely, they’d never see each other again.
Unless she found his sister.
Chapter 2
Leo appreciated Officer Rawlins’s effort and dedication. She seemed to be making an attempt to help. Still, Jones was right. He didn’t see how this report would do much good.
He found solutions on a daily basis, a job requirement that utilized his natural analytical tendencies. Translating those skills to his personal life was never as simple or effective as he hoped.
Here in the police station bustling with action, Lara’s disappearance and continued silence was too real. His behavior in the soup kitchen shamed him. The manager had been right not to cooperate based on the way he stormed in and lost his cool.
Leo sat up straight and let his one leg bounce. He needed to move, preferably in the right direction this time. Whatever they said about the general futility of missing person cases, maybe he could convince Officer Rawlins to help him search the area for some sign of Lara. She obviously knew her beat and the neighborhood well. And if the manager at the soup kitchen was any indicator, people trusted her.
With her bright blond hair and earnest, clear blue eyes, she was a ray of sunshine in a wintry gray landscape. She crossed the noisy room, a paper cup in each hand, an angel in a PPD uniform.
“How do you do that?” he asked, taking the cup she offered.
“Do what?” She peeled back the litt
le tab on the lid of her cup and the rich aroma of hot chocolate filled the space between them.
“You seem to just hover somewhere above all of this.” He circled his finger, indicating the room at large.
She watched him as she took a sip of her hot beverage. The heat must have stung her lips. She pressed them together and then her tongue slid across, soothing the burn. His pulse kicked. If he’d ever had a more inappropriate reaction, he couldn’t recall it.
“What’s your office like?” she asked.
“Busy,” he replied. “Not so noisy.” The constant flux of sharp sounds and voices running the gamut from deep to shrill made his ears ring.
She leaned in as if worried she might be overheard. “The noise in here is why I like walking the neighborhood in any weather.”
He could smell the sweet chocolate on her breath and he wanted a taste. What was wrong with him? He was here to track down his sister, not flirt with a cute cop who’d been nice to him when she probably should have arrested him.
He carefully opened the lid on his coffee. “Smart.”
Thankfully, she returned to the business at hand and though it pained him, he gave her everything he knew about Lara’s return to Philly and her subsequent withdrawal from the school.
When the report was in the system, Leo knew it was time to go, but he was rooted to the seat. He couldn’t walk out without some sort of action plan. Would the PPD do anything? “Being realistic, what do you expect to come from this report?” he asked. Please, let her opinion contradict Chief Jones’s.
“You’ve given us a lot to go on. The pictures are great and it helps that the timeline is tight.”
“But?” Leo prompted when she didn’t say more.
“Your sister is an adult. She has resources at her disposal and is capable of caring for herself.”
“Resources she isn’t using,” Leo reminded her.
Officer Rawlins nodded. “I understand. We will keep an eye out for her, I promise. Personally, I’ll be asking around whenever I’m on shift.” She pressed her lips into a hard line. “If you’re expecting an organized search, that won’t happen.”
The statement wasn’t a surprise and still a protest burned in his throat, unspoken. The coffee turned bitter in his stomach and the buzzing in his ears returned with a vengeance.
“Mr. Butler? Leo? Are you all right?”
“I’ll manage,” he lied. He’d never be all right again if something happened to Lara. The only goodness, the only happiness in his life after his tenth birthday, was because of his little sister. She’d been the warmth and acceptance his mother withheld. Even as a toddler she’d seemed to sense how much he needed her, showering him with laughter and unconditional love.
“She’s all I have.” He spoke carefully, determined not to shout just so he could hear himself. Everyone else could probably hear just fine.
“Where are you staying?” Officer Rawlins asked.
He gave her the name of his hotel.
“Breathe,” she ordered, kindly. “I’ll have a shuttle pick you up here. Just breathe through it.”
Breathe through what? He didn’t understand what was happening, why it felt as if the police station was shrinking around him and crushing him in the process.
It wasn’t as if she’d told him Lara was dead.
Except that was exactly his fear. She’d made a bizarre life change and no one had seen her since. She hadn’t accessed her money. What was he supposed to think? He rubbed a hand over the unbearable ache behind his sternum. “I promised to protect her,” he said.
Officer Rawlins tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and wrapped his free hand in both of hers. “Breathe,” she mouthed silently, making exaggerated movements to demonstrate the process.
His gaze locked on the tight circle of her lips as she mimed a slow exhale. Her smaller hands were strong and steady on his. Eventually, the pressure in his chest eased.
Her eyes on his, she finished her brief call. At least he thought it was brief. Everything around him felt disjointed and slightly out of sync.
“Better?” she asked, her blue eyes filled with worry. “The shuttle will be here in ten minutes.”
He couldn’t sit still that long. Not here where people were working, coming and going with purpose while he didn’t even have a plan. Drawing back, he missed her touch immediately. He was losing any semblance of common sense or logic. He pushed to his feet, grateful his knees held. “I’ll walk.” Or better yet, run like a madman.
“All right. I’ll walk with you.”
That was ridiculous. They’d both freeze out there in the wind and slush. “Are you afraid I’ll go stir up more trouble?”
“It’s crossed my mind,” she said.
“You aren’t a normal cop,” he observed.
“Probably not,” she agreed. “But I don’t plan on changing.”
He admired that self-awareness and confidence. Hopefully, the job wouldn’t alter her, harden her.
She grabbed her coat, and his, falling into step as he walked toward the front door.
“Don’t leave without this.” She held his jacket out for him.
He grabbed it and shoved his arms into the sleeves, zipped it up. “I can’t stand here and wait on a shuttle,” he blurted.
“Why not?”
He stared down at her, searching for an answer. The woman looked far too innocent, too untested, to protect and serve a rough urban neighborhood. What was the department thinking, putting her here?
“Because.” Oh, strong start, man. He quickly launched into a second attempt. “Because someone should be out there looking for a lead on my sister.”
“Where do you plan on looking?” Officer Rawlins asked.
“The school,” he blurted. Campus security wouldn’t be happy with that choice, but Amy had been helpful. Maybe he could track down one of Lara’s friends and pick up another piece of this dreadful puzzle.
“Someone there led you to the soup kitchen?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I don’t plan to go off on anyone again. Rookie mistake.”
Clouds rolled into her clear blue gaze. “We all make them,” she said.
“How long have you been on the force?”
“Almost four years. Take my card.” Her smile radiated pride as she handed it to him. “Here in this precinct from day one.”
And she still looked fresh and friendly. Impressive. “I know you’ve done all you can and I appreciate it.” Had he said that already? Didn’t matter. As a cop she probably didn’t get compliments often enough. “I’m just—” He couldn’t explain this persistent urge to move. Sitting still had been a problem for him since he was a kid. At nearly thirty, he remained the king of fidgeting. He could think better on the move, and standing still when Lara was who-knew-where wasn’t working for him.
He pushed through the front door of the precinct just as the hotel shuttle pulled to a stop. Guess he wouldn’t walk after all.
Leo looked back over his shoulder to see Officer Rawlins watching him. Her arms were folded, her hands bare. She should put her gloves on. He could feel the sympathy rolling off her and see it in the gentle curve of her mouth.
“I’ll be in touch, Leo.”
“Thanks,” he repeated, boosting himself into the shuttle and closing the door.
How had she done that? No one kept him in one place when he needed to move. As the shuttle pulled away from the police station, the view passing by the windows settled his frazzled nerves. Watching the buildings glide by and people hurrying along on sidewalks hemmed by slushy, gray-tinged snow loosened the knots in his neck.
Was he doing all he could to find Lara? On the surface, his answer would be a resounding “yes.” He’d filed a police report and followed a lead and created a spectacle, scaring good people in the process.
He co
uldn’t be expected to maintain any cool detachment when his sister was missing. Leo closed his eyes, ashamed all over again. If one of his subordinates at work offered a similar excuse for poor behavior, Leo wouldn’t let it slide. He would do something, make some kind of gesture to earn the manager’s forgiveness.
At the hotel, he gave the driver a tip and headed upstairs to his room. Locking the door, he set his phone on the top of the dresser near the television. He set the business cards from Officer Rawlins and Chief Jones side by side, adding the Escape Club matchbook to the row.
The PPD, or Officer Rawlins at least, would keep an eye out for Lara in the neighborhood. What else could he do?
Leo retrieved the paperwork Jones had given him, pacing in front of the window as he read each page over and over. This disappearing act was unlike Lara, but apparently typical enough that the school and police weren’t troubled. The only ray of hope was that nothing pointed to foul play. He was just getting started, but no one had mentioned an aggravated boyfriend or infatuated student. Financially, his sister was sound. What else could have prompted this stunt?
Officer Rawlins seemed sincere enough, but what could one cop really do? Sympathetic to his worries, she hadn’t rallied the other officers and organized a search. Had he really expected that?
He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window, recalling the day he’d chaperoned Lara’s fifth grade field trip to the zoo. He’d been the cool brother and most of her classmates seemed determined to hang on to his group rather than stay with their own chaperones.
Preparing for lunch, they discovered one boy—not in Leo’s group, thankfully—was missing. Teachers, chaperones and zoo security dropped everything, searching until they’d found that kid. Silly as it sounded even in his head, that was the response Leo had expected today.
If being a certain age meant no one had to care about your whereabouts, someone needed to implement a better plan. He hadn’t stopped caring for Lara when she turned eighteen or twenty-one any more than she’d written off his support and love at those same milestones.