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Investigating 101

Page 12

by Debra Webb

With that warning ringing in his ears, Todd left Victoria’s office. He had his reprieve. Another chance to prove himself.

  And the opportunity to break this case.

  “What did you find out?”

  Serena had jumped to her feet the instant he exited Victoria’s office.

  The anticipation in her expression made him wish he had news of her friend’s whereabouts. How could she look so damned innocent when he was certain she was keeping secrets from him?

  He produced a smile for Mildred Parker. He already knew that this was one lady on whose good side he needed to stay. Then he took Serena by the arm and guided her toward reception and the elevators. He stabbed the call button and waited impatiently for an elevator to arrive.

  “Where are we going?”

  A chime announced the elevator’s arrival and the doors instantly opened. New recruits Gabrielle Hanson and Michelle Robb breezed into the lobby. Todd smiled, his instincts immediately going on alert. Although they had all been hired as equals, he couldn’t help considering these two women his immediate competition. Michelle said hello to Serena, then to Todd, but Gabrielle didn’t bother. She rushed through the lobby, far too focused on her destination to bother with Todd or his guest. In his opinion, she was the one to watch. He considered the time, way past business hours. What were they doing here at this hour anyway? Research? Or an after-hours class on what not to do, using him as an example.

  When they’d boarded the elevator and the doors had slid closed, Todd shifted back to the business at hand and considered what his next move should be. He and Serena needed to talk further. Whatever she was holding back could make the difference between cracking this case and wishful thinking. All he had to do was convince her to come clean with him. For that, having the home-field advantage wouldn’t hurt.

  “My place.” He didn’t make eye contact, already knew what he’d see there.

  “Why are we going back to your place? I want to go home. I need to check my messages.”

  Dropping by her place wouldn’t be a bad idea. If she and Molly Landon were that close, she could attempt to call her if the opportunity presented itself. That was an extreme reach but not outside the bounds of plausibility.

  “We’ll check your messages and then we’ll go to my place,” he offered.

  “I’m not sure you understand, Mr. Thompson,” she snapped. “You work for me, remember?”

  He grappled for patience. Now why did she have to go and bring that up again? What did she want him to say? How could he do his job with her bossing him around?

  “Yes, ma’am, I remember.”

  Serena resisted the urge to grind her teeth. Why was it every time she got angry with his highhandedness he pulled out that Southern charm?

  She refused to look at him. She knew all too well what would happen. Getting caught up in his gorgeous exterior would only undermine her determination.

  Work was on her agenda for tomorrow. She needed to be in her own home. A long, hot bath and clean clothes. She needed to unwind. To put the day’s horrifying events behind her.

  Molly’s doctor was dead.

  Serena shuddered.

  Delia Neely was missing.

  There had to be a connection. As certain as Serena had been that maybe Molly’s disappearance was somehow related to Landon’s work, that might not be the case.

  She thought back to the few times she’d met Delia Neely. Could she be capable of kidnapping an expectant mother, or worse?

  It seemed so unbelievable.

  A new wave of fury washed over her. But even if Delia was responsible for all of this, that didn’t let Charles Landon off the hook. He should never have cheated on his wife. If he’d kept his pants on, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

  The elevator glided to a stop at the first-floor lobby level and Serena exited, Todd Thompson at her side. Security checked them off the after-hours log and Todd ushered her to his car. Her car was still back at the lab. She’d have no choice but to accept a ride to work from him tomorrow morning.

  She leaned her head back against the headrest and closed her eyes. Sleep would help, but first she had to have that bath. The hot water would help her relax. Tension had been strumming through her for hours. The memory of how he’d held her in that supply room, chastely…almost. Though she’d felt the changes in his body that he couldn’t deny, he never let the moment go beyond that point. He hadn’t taken advantage of her moment of weakness. She appreciated that.

  More than she should, maybe.

  She didn’t open her eyes again until he’d parked next to the curb in front of her town house. She hadn’t left on any lights so the place looked dark as pitch. But she was glad to be here. Finally.

  There were questions she wanted to ask but those would have to wait. Right now she needed some distance. A chance to catch her breath and shake off some of the silly notions loitering in her head.

  Todd Thompson had a job to do. He was no fairy-tale romance hero. When the Colby Agency had done all it could to help her learn what had happened to Molly, he’d be out of her life. She couldn’t let this get personal, had to maintain her perspective.

  She dug in her purse for her keys as they climbed the steps to her door.

  “Stay behind me.”

  Her head came up at his barked order. What on earth…

  He pushed the door inward.

  Her door was unlocked?

  There was suddenly a gun in his hand.

  He carried a gun?

  She told herself not to be surprised. It wasn’t unusual for private investigators to carry weapons…was it?

  He stopped abruptly and she bumped into his broad back. When he continued to stand there without saying anything, she presumed that he was listening. She did the same.

  Did he suspect whoever had broken into her house was still here?

  Her heart thumped. She hadn’t thought of that.

  He shifted, moved his face close to hers. “Stay right behind me,” he murmured. “I don’t think there’s anyone in here, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  She nodded, then muttered, “Okay,” just in case he hadn’t noticed.

  Why would anyone break into her home? She had a TV and a DVD player, but no jewelry or cash. Undoubtedly her thief had left more than a little disappointed. She knew that later she would be angry that her home had been violated. But right now she just wanted to make sure it was safe to stay.

  He didn’t turn on the living-room light until they’d moved across the room, near the small hall that connected it to the kitchen. She blinked to adjust to the sudden brightness as the lamps on either side of the sofa illuminated.

  “See anything out of place?”

  She scanned the room and shook her head. “Looks just the way we left it.” Including the blanket and pillow she’d given him last night, reminding her that he’d slept on her couch not so very long ago.

  The kitchen and her office were clear. Thank God. By the time they topped the stairs together, her heart threatened to burst from her chest. The last place a person looked was always the place where trouble waited…at least in the movies.

  She grabbed him by the shirt when he would have moved toward the guest bedroom. “Maybe we should call the police.”

  “Shh.”

  When he’d checked the guest room he turned on the light in the hall. “So far so good.”

  Enough. She couldn’t stand the anticipation. She was ready for that bath and bed. Alone.

  She stormed past him and flung open the door to her bedroom, simultaneously clicking on the overhead light.

  It took several seconds for her mind to assimilate what her eyes saw.

  Unlike the rest of the house, which was exactly as she’d left it that morning, her bedroom had been…ransacked. Totally destroyed.

  “Oh, my.”

  He pushed past her and checked the closet then under the bed. When he stopped in the middle of the chaos, she felt her knees go abruptly weak.

&nbs
p; Who would do this?

  Wouldn’t a thief have wanted to look for anything worth taking downstairs, as well?

  “Whoa, there.”

  She hadn’t realized she’d swayed until she felt his arms around her.

  “Take a breath,” he prompted. “It’ll be okay. May not be as bad as it looks.”

  No, she thought, it was worse.

  Someone had come into her home…touched her things.

  He led her to her bed and ushered her onto the edge. “Stay right here while I check outside.”

  If he’d expected a response, he didn’t get one. She couldn’t manage verbal skills during the time it took for her eyes to take in the full extent of the situation.

  Dresser and bureau drawers had been dragged out and their contents dumped. Her jewelry box, full of costume jewelry, sat upside down. Her closet looked as if it had exploded into the room.

  She had to do something. She couldn’t just sit here.

  Summoning her courage, she pushed to her feet and started the insurmountable task of sorting through her belongings.

  Putting things back into their proper place would be rather pointless if it wasn’t for the need to determine if anything was missing. Maybe she should bag it all up and drag it down to the laundry room.

  How could she wear anything a stranger had touched without laundering it first?

  She couldn’t.

  “Let me help you.”

  Todd had returned. She didn’t ask if he’d found anything. He’d likely tell her if he had. Right now she just wanted to make sure her stuff was all here.

  He knelt next to her and helped her put the drawers back into place and then her things. She should have been embarrassed that he got a good look at her lingerie but she didn’t have the emotion to spare right now.

  When she could walk around the room without stepping on something, she felt a little better.

  They tackled the closet next. She straightened her clothes on their hangers, then he hung them up. His help made things go a lot more quickly. Even though she didn’t say so, she appreciated his being here.

  “Missing anything?”

  She shoved a handful of hair behind her ear and tried to think. Unless some article of clothing she couldn’t readily think of was missing, all appeared to be here.

  That made the whole situation even more bizarre than it already was. Who would care what kind of panties she wore?

  “I don’t think so.”

  “How about we walk through downstairs again just to be sure.”

  And then she knew.

  Fear grabbed hold of her heart and squeezed like a vise.

  The box.

  She went through her room again. Checked the drawers, the closet, under the bed.

  It wasn’t here.

  Panic welled inside her so fast she couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Why would anyone take that box?

  “Serena, what did they take?”

  She stared up at him. Uncertain she could explain. “The only connection I had to my past.”

  The box. An old shoe box she’d decorated as a child. Inside it was the only picture she’d had of her and her sister before. She’d been maybe two, dressed in nothing but a diaper. Molly had been about four. She wore a little ruffled pink dress. At first glance one would have thought they were two perfectly normal children. But upon closer inspection you would see the marks on Serena’s legs and the sad, tattered state of Molly’s dress.

  But it was all Serena had from that time.

  A few other items from her childhood had been inside. The only four-leaf clover she’d ever found and the cutout yearbook picture of the first boy she’d ever had a crush on. He hadn’t known she existed, but she’d loved him desperately. The pink ribbon her father, the only father she’d ever known, Howard Blake, had tied in her hair for the father-daughter dance her sophomore year of high school. Serena had never worn a ribbon in her hair in her entire life. She’d started to argue but when she’d seen the emotion in his eyes, she couldn’t say no.

  Who would take those things?

  “Come here.”

  Before she could comprehend his intent he’d taken her into his arms the same way he had in that dark supply room. The move confused her at first and then she realized she was crying.

  She never cried so much.

  As a kid she’d lost count of the number of times she’d cried before realizing that the tears never got her anywhere; then she’d stopped being so vulnerable. What was the point?

  The emotional bouts she’d experienced the past few days were so unlike her…so difficult to endure.

  She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. Let herself sag against him. She felt so tired. So damned exhausted.

  Nothing made sense anymore.

  Charles Landon was suddenly acting like a caring husband.

  Delia Neely had disappeared.

  The missing files…

  What did it all mean?

  Surely none of that had anything to do with the sentimental mementos someone had taken from her house.

  He pulled back far enough to look into her eyes. “Would you like coffee? Tea?”

  She took a step back. She had to pull herself together again. She felt like Humpty Dumpty, in too many pieces this time to put back together.

  “I just want a long, hot bath.” She tried to smile but couldn’t manage the feat. “I’ll be fine. It wasn’t…important. Just sentimental value.” The idea that she’d lost the only picture of her and her sister together as children ripped at her heart.

  He wiped a tear from her cheek and managed a smile that should have taken her breath. She really was in shock. “You take your time with the bath,” he said softly. “I’ll see what I can find in the kitchen for dinner.”

  She didn’t remember saying yes, but he walked away so she must have.

  When he’d closed the door, she searched her room again.

  The box wasn’t here.

  She couldn’t think about it anymore.

  While the tub filled she rounded up her favorite pj’s and clean underwear. She groaned as she considered that whoever had riffled through her drawers had just as likely touched this pair of underwear as not. She didn’t care.

  She was too tired.

  After adding a few drops of bubble bath, she stripped off her clothes and slid into the deep, welcoming water. Heavenly.

  She closed her eyes and relaxed, let the water do its work.

  No one knew about the box or the picture.

  No one but Molly.

  Had she told her husband?

  Had he told his lover?

  Why in the world would anyone take that box?

  It just didn’t make sense.

  Would it do any good for the police to search her home for strange fingerprints?

  Would they even come, considering nothing of monetary value was missing?

  She couldn’t worry about that. What she had to do was to go downstairs and get some answers from Todd. He hadn’t told her what had come out of the meeting with Victoria. Or what he thought they should do next.

  It seemed as though she had more unanswered questions now than before she’d hired the Colby Agency.

  If he was keeping anything from her…

  There was only one way to find out: demand answers.

  She rushed through the bathing ritual, dragged on her pj’s and ran a brush through her damp hair.

  Whatever Victoria had told him, Serena had a right to know. They needed to strategize about their next move.

  Renewed bravado propping her emotions, she jerked the bathroom door open and marched out with the intention of going downstairs and demanding a powwow.

  But that wouldn’t be necessary. At least not the part about going downstairs.

  Her on-again-off-again hero stood next to her bed with a tray in his hands. Whatever he’d thrown together for dinner, he’d brought it to her.

  “I found vegetable soup. Hope that’s okay.”

&nb
sp; He sat the tray, with its steaming bowl of soup, crackers, glass of milk and what looked like hot cocoa, on her bedside table.

  “Let me know if I can get you anything else.”

  And then he strode back to the door, hesitated only long enough to say, “Good night,” and was gone.

  She just stood there, uncertain what to say or to do.

  The tempting aroma of the soup finally penetrated her haze of confusion and she realized exactly what she had to do.

  Eat. Get some sleep. And then, in the morning, when she was refreshed and rested, demand some answers.

  In that order.

  With her luck, it would never be that simple.

  She would dream.

  About him.

  This plan to seek help from a professional had seemed so simple at first.

  How had it gotten so complicated?

  Chapter Eleven

  Serena dropped her purse to the floor to keep her fingers from twisting repeatedly in the strap.

  There was no reason for her to be so nervous.

  She glanced around the studio apartment once more. It was just an apartment, not a lair. And yet, it felt exactly like that.

  She’d overslept this morning so she’d had to rush to get ready in time to have that conversation with Todd she’d promised herself. To her utter dismay he’d insisted that the talk would have to wait until after they’d stopped by his place. Not that she could deny him a shower and a change of clothes, but it felt as if he were putting off her questions.

  Maybe she’d imagined that part, but she wanted answers, and he’d didn’t appear in any hurry to give them to her.

  She couldn’t sit here a second longer.

  Pushing up from her chair, she decided she’d be nosy. Why not? He’d certainly had a good look at her most private items. The memory of her undergarments tossed all around her room made her cringe.

  And then she remembered the one thing the thief had taken. A wistful feeling went through her as her missing memory box bobbed to the surface of her scattered thoughts. She just couldn’t imagine why anyone would take it.

  Forcing her attention away from those painful feelings, she prowled along the bookcases lining part of the far wall. Lots of volumes on forensics and criminology. And literally dozens on psychology and the human psyche.

 

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