Then the police didn’t understand her. “Did you?”
“No.”
“Because you never do.” He would bet on it.
“You think it’s silly.”
He thought it was damn smart. Repetitive actions drummed them into the head. “I didn’t say that.”
She smoothed out the wrinkles she put in his shirt. Brushed her palm over his stomach then did it again. “After it happened . . .”
She had so much going on that he wasn’t sure where the next comment would take them. “What are we talking about?”
“Do you have any idea how many nights I slept on the floor of the closet because I was sure whoever took Tiffany would come back for me?” The color drained from her face as she talked. “Everywhere I went people would whisper. Some insisted I saw the kidnapper and wasn’t talking.”
Jesus. “Emery.”
“That’s just the tip, and it’s the part that’s about me, but this touched everyone. Detective Cryer pushed and pushed until it almost cost him his job. Uncle Gavin was never the same. My aunt drank herself into a stupor until she finally disappeared. Teachers were shell-shocked. Our best friend, Tyler, was questioned over and over again because Tiffany had written about him in her diary.” She blew out a long breath. “Everything was different in the space of one night.”
“Your trust in adults, in people in general, changed.” He knew the drill. He had lived through a version of it.
“And life never bounced back. I still assume the worst. God, if I had met you a few years ago and you came on with the heavy-handed approach I would have tasered you and called the police.”
If she knew some of the thoughts bombarding his brain she might do it now. “But you’re calm.”
She looked around the room then focused on him again. Those big eyes stared at him, as if willing him to believe her. “You can’t really understand what it’s like to live through something like that.”
The truth sat there, the words damming up in his throat and begging to come out. Of all the things he did not share, this was the biggest. Garrett knew. People from his old life knew. No one else.
He settled for an abbreviated version that he hoped sounded like just another comment that made her huff at him for being strange. “Don’t assume.”
She blinked. “What?”
“There was a time . . .” The rest of the comment stayed jammed up inside him. He couldn’t do it. The buzz of his phone helped derail him. He’d never been so grateful for the damn thing, even though he hated the subject of the text. “Someone is coming.”
She pulled away from him and headed toward the window. “Your men?”
He grabbed her arm before she could make herself an open target. “Wait here.”
The doorbell chimed, which meant the unexpected guests either made it to the door or his men did. Either way, he would be the one to open it.
He walked over and, after a glance out the peephole, unlocked the door. His men had a guy, probably about Emery’s age, pinned against the wall. Sandy blond hair with an athletic build. His gaze flew to Emery and stopped there.
Wren hated the younger man on sight.
He heard a gasp behind him. Emery rushed past, straight for the doorway. He stopped her again, but this time she struggled and pulled away.
“What’s happening?” She reached out for the guard holding his arm against the young man’s neck. “Stop!”
The yelling and thudding against the wall brought a neighbor into the hall. Much more of this and the police would get a second call. Wren had enough drama for one night.
“You know him?” he asked Emery.
She’d calmed down but tension still radiated off her. “Yes.”
He nodded to his men and they immediately released the guest. When they still lingered, looking ready to grab him again, Wren dismissed them. “You can go. We’re fine.”
The guy made a big show of jerking out of the hold that no longer existed. “I’m sure as hell not fine.”
It appeared the drama was not over. To at least stem it a bit, Wren talked to his men again. “I’ve got this.”
“You do?” The guy brushed past Wren, straight into Emery’s apartment, grumbling every second. “Then do you mind telling me what the hell that was about?”
“Wait here.” Wren ignored the question and closed the door, leaving his men as backup in the hallway. Once inside the apartment again, his position with his back to the door allowed him to watch Emery, to see the interaction. To get pissed off for no good reason.
“You’re back.” Emery wore a bright smile and she gave the man a big hug.
“That was quite a welcome,” he said, still bitching about the scene in the hallway. When he finally stepped back, he didn’t let go of Emery. Then he turned to Wren. “You are?”
Annoyed. But he still had the presence of mind to slip back into his fake persona. “Brian Jacobs.”
“This is Tyler Bern,” Emery said without letting go of the guy.
“The childhood friend.” Wren knew exactly who this guy was. He’d hung out with Tiffany and Emery. They’d been inseparable.
The detective’s notes suggested both girls had a crush on young Tyler and that Tyler had wanted to date Tiffany, but she said no, a fact that made him a suspect. Apparently the kid had a bit of an overactive ego back then and was the star of some team. Basically, not the type who took rejection well. The notes had actually said that.
And now he was touching Emery. It was all Wren could do to keep from punching the guy. The days of being moved to irrational anger should be behind him. Wren thought they were, but they seemed to flood through him now.
Tyler smiled as he looked at Emery. “You’ve been talking about me?”
“Sort of.” Emery dropped her arm from around Tyler’s back. “It’s hard to explain.”
The smiling, the ease between them—yeah, Wren couldn’t watch this. Didn’t want to. He did a quick look around for his jacket and grabbed it off the back of the family room chair. “I should go.”
She took a step in his general direction then stopped. “You don’t need to leave.”
“You have a friend here now.” Wren pulled his gaze away from her and looked at Tyler. “Someone tried to break into the house tonight.”
Tyler frowned. “So, those guys in the hallway are . . . ?”
“They’re with me.”
He snorted. “Nice friends you have.”
“Good night, Emery.” Wren nodded to her when he wanted to do much more. “Call if you need anything.”
He rarely said those words as anything more than a way to end a conversation with a work client. This time he meant them.
CHAPTER 13
Emery stared at the door as it closed behind Wren. Her emotions flipped around, nearly knocking her over. She didn’t know how to think about him.
Even as she stood there, listening to the mumble of his deep voice through the door as he talked to his men in the hallway, she rubbed her fingers together. Remembered the feel of the scruff around his cheek and the smooth flatness of his stomach.
One question kept flipping through her mind—why did she touch him? She’d slipped in close, ran her hands over him. Flirted. None of it fit with who she was or her initial response to him. But something about him lured her in. She found him compelling. Sensed that under the whiff of danger and all that brooding he was a decent man. And that didn’t even touch how hot he was. She’d always had a thing for blonds. Not anymore.
“I think I walked in on something,” Tyler said.
She’d almost forgotten about her friend and his poor timing. She plastered a smile on her face and turned around to face him. “No, it’s . . . actually, I don’t know what he is.”
She looked at Tyler, her first real crush. She loved him with all the intensity of a teen high on hormones. He sauntered around the school halls and hung out at his locker while the other kids practically lined up to talk to him. Everyone loved him.
&n
bsp; Living only a few streets apart, they’d grown up running around the neighborhood together. They joked and had fun and as they grew up he fell for Tiffany. That broke Emery’s heart, but it had long healed. The exaggerated teen angst over him washed away when Tiffany disappeared. What mattered to Emery changed that day.
So many people had pointed to Tyler as a suspect. He’d been questioned until his parents balked and refused one more interview. He switched schools, first to a private one then to a boarding school in Connecticut. After that, they saw each other during vacations and wrote now and then. He moved away and moved on.
Truth was, in a way, she never forgave him for not mourning enough for Tiffany. That sucked and it wasn’t fair, but it was how she felt.
There was talk about him being embarrassed about Tiffany insisting they only be friends. They fought the day before someone took her. Still, Emery refused to believe the guy with the dimple, the one who kissed her—really kissed her in her garage for the first time ever—would hurt Tiffany.
Tyler walked around, scanning the room as he went. “That guy’s not really your usual type.”
She used to think that. “There’s an understatement.”
The lanky boy had grown into a man. One with an MBA on the road to a big-time financial career. Emery realized despite the height and self-assurance, he didn’t compare to Wren. Not even close.
Tyler shot her a questioning look. “You’re being cryptic.”
She waved off the concern in his eyes and amped up her smile. “Sorry, it’s been a weird night.”
Tyler finally stopped checking around and leaned against the back of the love seat. “Because of the boyfriend?”
She didn’t bother to deny the relationship. Wren wasn’t that, but she really had no idea what he was or why she’d wanted to burrow against him and not let go. She’d never been the needy type and was not thrilled that she moved in that direction now, but she’d grown weary and more frustrated by the case than ever before. It was as if she’d journeyed this far and this was her last chance. Nothing in the evidence suggested that, but battling alone just wasn’t working. The idea that she might not be able to find the answer for her friend wrecked her.
“It’s about Tiffany.” Everything, most of her life, had been about Tiffany. Her father complained about it. Her boss, Caroline, worried about it. The detective warned her about it. Now she could add Wren to the list of people who looked at her differently when she talked about what happened back then.
Tyler stood up again. “What?”
“Never mind.” She couldn’t think of a good reason to inflict her madness on him.
“Emery, come on.” He stood in front of her. “Don’t blow me off. Not on that topic.”
The zing didn’t hit her. This close to Wren she’d been all but jumping on top of him, dying to move in. With Tyler all she wanted to do was find that leftover Chinese food and sit on the couch and eat it.
Before she could get there, she did owe him an explanation. She was talking about his friend and his childhood, too. “The investigation is stalled.”
His head shot back as he made a face. “I didn’t even know it was ongoing.”
His shock sent her temperature spiking. It was probably unfair to judge him, but come on. “She’s still missing.”
“Look, I know I haven’t been here, but . . .” He winced.
Her patience expired. It had been a long-ass day and it was getting longer by the second. “Just say it.”
“It’s been thirteen years.”
He acted as if she couldn’t count. Talked to her like she was a child. She didn’t appreciate either.
She walked around him to the couch. She had a feeling she’d need to be sitting down for the rest of this conversation. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
Instead of taking the chair perpendicular to the couch, he slumped down next to her. Stretched his arm out across the back of the cushions. “It’s a hell of a long time.”
And imagine if she’s alive how long it’s been for Tiffany. “Other kidnapped people have been found in that time.”
She was about to reel off a list of names, but stopped herself. She worked in this field. She saw the miracles but nowhere as often as she saw the tragic endings. Lobbying Tyler, or anyone else, to believe Tiffany could be one of those rare cases was a lost cause.
He just kept wincing. “Yeah, but—”
“I thought you were in New York City.” There. A nice, safe topic that didn’t make her want to lecture or fear her head might explode in rage. She knew he got the hint when he smiled.
“So, we’re done having a rational conversation about Tiffany and your ongoing—”
“If you use the word obsession I will be pissed.” That was her breaking point. Wanting closure and answers didn’t mean there was something wrong with her. Worse, using that word shifted the focus from where it should be—Tiffany.
“Okay, how about we call it your drive for answers.”
She shrugged. “It’s my job.”
“Tiffany is not your job.”
She wished Wren were here. He might annoy her and say odd things, but he didn’t condescend to her or write her off or hint that she’d crossed some sort of line. “Cousin or not, I help bring people home.”
“Emery.”
“About New York?” She sank back into the cushions and tucked her feet under her.
Tyler sat there for a second, not saying a word. The silence lengthened, but she didn’t do a thing to fill it. If talking about Tiffany made him upset then he’d get mundane conversation, but he needed to join in. Talking about nothing important was safer, and right now she welcomed the mindlessness of it.
After another second of hesitation, his big smile returned and he started talking. “I’ve been back for a few days. I should have called first before just stopping by.”
“Nonsense. You’re always welcome here.” That wasn’t completely true. Tonight she wished he were somewhere else, but Wren had already gone. Having company wasn’t a bad thing after the night she’d had.
“Then fill me in on what happened here and the men who threw me into a wall.”
Ah, that. How in the world did she explain anything about tonight? “Did they?”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “When did this become a bad neighborhood?”
“We’re going to need wine.”
CHAPTER 14
Wren’s eyes were about to cross as he sat at the conference table across from Detective Cryer and Garrett. He’d spent half the night and most of the morning studying files, followed by the last hour meeting with these two for some in-person questioning and more in-depth analysis of the case. The idea had been to test the notes and hear directly from a source close to the case about any stray thoughts that didn’t make it into the official file.
The meeting likely would have been more effective if he didn’t keep yawning. Not one to need much sleep as a general rule, Wren didn’t know why the limited two hours last night had made such a big impact.
So much for being in control of the room.
“I still can’t believe you’re Wren.” Rick shook his head. “That he’s you. That you kept that secret.”
“Some of us can’t believe he spilled it,” Garrett mumbled.
“He’s not going to tell anyone.” Wren looked at the detective. “Are you?”
“Never.”
In the past week he’d expanded his circle to include two more. That wasn’t like him. He blamed Emery for his sudden openness. For the lowering of walls. He hated giving up any control, but he did trust the detective. And for whatever reason he wanted Emery to know.
But that was enough people and secret spilling for the rest of the year.
With that issue over and resolved, Wren pushed forward in an effort to wipe out the memory of how Emery felt in his arms and that stupid grin on that guy Tyler’s face when he breezed in her front door. The familiarity between them plagued Wren all night. He didn’t share tha
t sort of history, common nostalgia, with anyone.
Wren didn’t see an obvious answer to the mess in front of him now either. They’d gone through everything. The case was as cold as a case could be. He ticked off his mental list. “You had the usual neighborhood pedophiles checked out.”
Rick closed the last file and stacked it on the pile in front of him. “Yes and any case with a similar MO within three states, plus tried to match the facts to other cases nationwide.”
“Nothing panned out. Right.” Wren had been hoping for a clear hole, one he could point out and keep from getting dragged in deeper. He didn’t see one.
He’d done some behind-the-scenes work for the department, but it came years after, and was unrelated to, Tiffany’s disappearance. His job centered on a too-close relationship between a detective and someone in the governor’s office that ended up with political capital being used to influence cases. Wren tracked the connections and put the pieces together.
At Wren’s suggestion, the governor left office for “personal reasons” and Wren helped clean up the rest of the mess he left behind. All quiet, but the case helped forge a bond between him and Rick, the one who noticed the problem in the first place.
“It’s a thorough list. Tiffany’s father. A teacher at school. A guy at the church two streets over who had been on the wrong end of some nasty rumors.” Garrett lowered the pages gathered in his fist and stared up at the detective. “Why is Tiffany’s father all over the files and questioned several times?”
“The usual ‘look at the males closest to her’ protocol. Plus, he waited to report her and had some excuse about wanting her to sweat it out wherever she was as some form of punishment.” When Garrett started to talk, the detective held up his hand and kept going. “A stupid way to deal with a teen girl he had no idea how to handle. Pushing his wife away then losing her the way he did. The guilt ate at him until the day he died.”
“And Emery.” Wren knew he’d see her name in the file, but he wanted to see the detective’s reaction now. “She was a suspect, too?”
“There was a love triangle thing, and she was supposed to meet Tiffany.” Rick shook his head. “She was cleared.”
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