by Marci Bolden
“You okay?” he asked, pulling her from her thoughts.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sighing.”
“Sighing?”
“Yeah. I’ve counted three in as many blocks. And you’re playing with your necklace. Both indicate increased stress. Wanna tell me why?”
She released the heart around her neck and tightened her hold on the steering wheel.
“Look,” he said after a moment. “If this is about keeping Gary’s concerns under wraps, I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it.”
“It’s not that.”
He glanced her way. “No? Then what is it?”
Holly forced her attention on the road so she didn’t have to see his reaction. “After my mother died, my father started drinking. A lot. He got into accidents. A lot. More than once I was in the car. We are both very lucky we survived his stupidity.”
“Wow. I’m sorry.”
She dismissed his sympathy. “I started driving him around long before I had a license. For both our sakes. So. I prefer to drive.”
Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else on the matter. Only, her appreciation for the silence didn’t last. After a few heartbeats, the quiet started to feel tense, and for reasons she couldn’t explain, the tension was uncomfortable.
She didn’t like anyone to feel sorry for her, but when he put his hand on her forearm and gently squeezed, part of her nearly cried out with relief. She was aware that she’d ignored the pain of her past for far too long—Rene and Alexa reminded her of that on a regular basis—but acknowledging how broken she still felt hurt too much. He pulled his hand away, and she nearly reached for his hand to pull it back to her. Just so she felt connected to someone, even if just for a moment.
“We weren’t close,” she said. “I didn’t want to be responsible for him, so I joined the Army right out of high school. I thought about re-enlisting after my second tour, but…”
“You’d seen enough?”
She nodded. “More than enough.”
“And the necklace?”
Holly swallowed. “It was my mother’s.”
He was silent just long enough for Holly to mentally kick herself for saying too much. Then he overshared, too.
“My dad split when Mom was pregnant with me. I’m sure you can imagine how difficult being a single pregnant woman in Egypt was back then. Her parents disowned her. She didn’t have a chance at making a decent life for us, so she moved to America before I was born. She had a cousin here who was more open-minded about her situation.”
“She likes being here? The Midwest is about as different from Egypt as a person can get.”
“She hates the winters, but not enough to leave.”
Holly smiled. “I hate the winters, too. Has she ever considered going back?”
“Nah, this is home now. She’s made a life for herself.”
“Good for her.” Holly pulled up to her favorite pub and parked near the door. Flicking her gaze toward his face as she reached to release her seat belt, she wondered why the hell she felt the need to make small talk with him. No, that hadn’t been small talk. She’d told him things about herself that some of her teammates didn’t even know.
They knew about her mom, but they didn’t know she’d enlisted in the Army to get away so she didn’t have to watch her father drink himself to death or that she’d left the Army because she couldn’t see one more person die on her watch. Or that she hated the winter.
“You sighed again.” Jack reached for the door handle.
Instead of responding, she climbed out of her car and led them into the dimly lit pub. The scents of grease and beer mixed in the air. Some people might find the smell offensive, but it soothed her in some way she couldn’t define as she led them to a corner table in the back. The booth was curved, made for a larger party than two, but allowed both of them to sit with their backs to a wall without sitting so close she could feel his heat sinking into her.
The waitress was on them before Holly even settled into the booth.
She ordered a soda and a double cheeseburger basket without even looking at the menu. Jack ordered the same, probably because she hadn’t given him a chance to see his options. Damn it, she really needed to learn to be more accommodating to other people. Her manners were atrocious, and she knew that, but she never actually remembered that until it was too late. “They have other stuff if you want more time to look at a menu—”
“I’m good.” He rested his forearms on the table. “Relax.”
She did. Or as much as she could. She scanned the bar, evaluating the environment, seeking out any signs of trouble before finally letting her full attention fall on Jack. He was doing the same, scanning the bar, taking assessment of the area before letting his eyes meet hers. She wasn’t one to swoon or gush, but his dark eyes had a mesmerizing quality she couldn’t deny. Staring into his dark irises was like getting caught in the crosshairs. Her heart tripped over itself, and a crazy mixture of fear, anticipation, and excitement rushed through her as she waited to see what was going to happen.
Frowning, Holly broke the eye contact and glanced around the dark room again. Who the fuck compared sexual attraction to getting shot? Holly Austin, that’s who. Christ, no wonder she couldn’t ever see herself settling down.
“Anything more you want to tell me about your coffee date today?” Jack asked.
She ignored her internal chastising and turned her focus on the reason they were sitting there in the first place. “Dallas Kirby attends the same church as Gary and Penelope. She started struggling with depression, and he was trying to help her through it. He said it was bad enough he wanted her to get professional help, but she was hesitant.”
“Do you think—”
“She hurt herself or ran off? I don’t know. Kirby said it wasn’t that bad. I reached out to Gary, but he hasn’t returned my call. How well do you know the Nelsons?”
“Not that well. Like I said, I was a teenager when Mom bought that house. Teenagers don’t really hang out with the neighbors. Anything new on the Fredrickson case today? Did you find out where Julia was going Tuesday mornings before the grocery store?”
“Uh, no. Eric hasn’t called me back.” She opened the file and spread her notes on the scratched tabletop, covering a set of initials carved in the wood. “I compared Julia’s and Penelope’s schedules, their shopping places, their exercise habits—everything I could find. If Julia wasn’t volunteering at the shelter, I don’t see any other place where their paths could have crossed the same man. Maybe this is a guy looking for a woman, any woman, who fits his criteria. These two just happened to.”
It was his turn to sigh. “I hope you’re wrong. If this was opportunistic, the odds of finding this guy become infinitely slimmer.”
She nodded. “I know, but if there’s a connection, I’m not finding it.”
He flipped through the pages. “Maybe we need to go back further. Did their kids go to the same schools? Husbands ever work at the same firm? Did they ever use the same electrician or Internet service?”
Holly grimaced as she thought how long it would take to make those comparisons. “It could take months to dig that deep. I really doubt these women have months for us to find them.”
“You have a better idea?”
She leaned back as a basket of food and a soda were set in front of her. Jack’s dinner hadn’t even been put on the table when she finally grasped how famished she was. The burger wasn’t just calling out to her; the damn thing was screaming, demanding to be eaten now. She picked up the overstuffed sandwich and shoved the bun, melted-cheese-covered patties, onions, tomatoes, pickles, and oozing condiments into her mouth, taking the biggest bite she could.
She moaned as the combination of flavors exploded on her tongue. Damn, she loved a good cheeseburger. After she chewed and swallowed, she licked a glob of mustard from the side of her hand before stuffing a fry into her mouth. She was about to take another bite when she caught Jack watching
her.
His lips were curved up in that annoying smirk of his.
“What?” she asked.
He chuckled and returned his focus to his sandwich. “Nothing.”
“Am I not dainty enough for you?”
He stopped before sinking his slightly crooked teeth into his dinner. “Actually, I like my women a little butch, Austin.”
She tried to glare at him, but she couldn’t stop the grin spreading across her lips. “Really? You seem like the type who would be intimidated by a strong woman.”
While she took another huge bite, he set down his sandwich and sat forward, obviously challenging her assessment. She held his gaze as she chewed. He was waiting for her to look away as women tended to do when stared at for too long. She didn’t even blink. She was going to wait him out, stare him down, and win.
Finally he smirked and shook his head as he lost the contest. “So when you aren’t chasing your tail on a case, what are you doing?”
She dropped her sandwich and yanked a few napkins from the dispenser. “Turning around to chase my tail the other way.”
He nodded, clearly understanding. “This line of work can consume you, huh?”
She wiped her hands and tossed her trash on the table in front of her. “I was determined not to let it, but this case…” She squeezed the bottle of ketchup over her basket, coating her fries.
Jack widened his eyes as he watched. “What are you doing?”
She looked up at him, down at her food, and then to him again. “Putting ketchup on my fries.”
“That…” He exhaled heavily. “That is sacrilegious, Austin.”
“You don’t like ketchup?”
“You don’t coat the fries. You dip the fries.” He took the bottle from her and squirted a glob in the corner of his basket. “Like so.” He immersed a greasy, golden-fried potato into the condiment to show her how it was done.
She watched his display intently. Mostly because she was really enjoying looking at his lips. “I’d heard there were ketchup elitists in the world, but this is the first time I’ve actually met one. You should write an essay on this. I’m sure the culinary world has been dying to be enlightened on the coat versus dip element of french-fry consumption.”
The way he gestured toward her basket implied he was unaffected by her sarcasm. “If you squirt the fries, they get soggy. You have to dip the fries so they stay crisp.”
“Maybe I like my fries soggy, Tarek.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his face. “Man. You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
She chuckled at his theatrics. “If how I eat my fries is enough to do you in, you’d never last anyway.”
He lifted his gaze to her and quirked his brows. “I don’t mind the challenge. I’ll turn you into a dipper before this case is over.”
Reality stole the smile from her face. “I hope we’re not working this case long enough for anyone to change bad habits. For their sakes.” She nodded toward the files, and his smile faded as well.
A cloud—something like guilt—moved over the table. Holly had no right doing whatever it was she was doing with this man when two women were missing. She wasn’t exactly flirting—she’d never been good at that—but she was enjoying his company more than she should have, given the circumstances.
Dropping her ketchup-coated fry back into her basket, she pushed her dinner away and wiped her hands, her appetite gone. “I’ll drop in on Fredrickson in the morning. I suspect he’s avoiding my calls after our last visit. I want to know if he knew Julia wasn’t at the dog shelter. I’ll also ask what services they’ve used in the last six months.”
“I’ll do the same with Nelson’s husband. Let’s plan to cross references tomorrow afternoon. I’ll swing by your office when I get a chance.”
She met his gaze, and that same mix of emotions rushed through her, settling low in her stomach. Their comparisons could be done over the phone or through e-mail. They didn’t have to meet up for that, and she was tempted to point that out to him. However, she didn’t doubt he knew that as well as she did. He had an ulterior motive to want to see her. She suspected she knew exactly what that was and just how dangerous this little game of temptation was going to get before this case came to a close.
“Yeah,” she said, “let’s do that.”
She wasn’t going to go out of her way to find reasons to see Jack. But she wasn’t going to turn away from an opportunity, either.
The first thing Jack had done with the list of shelter volunteers was to verify that none of the women listed—other than Penelope—had gone missing. The second thing was to check the police records of all the men who had been named. None had records that made him think they would be capable of kidnapping two women.
The list for Tuesdays, however, only had the names of businesses that offered employees to volunteer. There were no individuals for him to look into. That left him feeling uneasy.
He glanced at his watch. The time was closing in on eleven thirty, but he would bet his badge that Holly was still awake and doing the exact same thing he was. Instead of calling her, he texted, asking if she was still up. His phone rang within seconds of sending.
“Did you find something?” Holly asked.
“No, but one of the businesses listed on the volunteer rotation stuck out to me and I can’t figure out why. Bailey just has it listed as Appleseed.”
“That’s the landscaping company Eric and Julia use.”
The lightbulb went off in Jack’s head. “Right. We should look into—”
“Gary uses a neighbor for his landscaping. I already asked.”
Jack smirked. He should have known.
She continued. “He had junk mail from Appleseed sitting on his table. I recognized the name.”
“Gotcha,” Jack said thoughtfully. “So there’s nothing to that. Any word on where Julia really was spending her Tuesday mornings?”
“Not yet. I’m meeting with Eric tomorrow.”
“Alone?” Jack asked before he could censor himself. He still didn’t trust Eric Fredrickson.
Holly laughed softly in his ear. “I’m really glad you came along, Tarek. It’s been a while since someone has been so insecure about my ability to take care of myself.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Of course not.”
“Holly,” he called, fearing she’d hang up.
“Hmm?”
The low hum of her response sent a shot to his groin. “I’m this close to making an arrest in this other case I’ve been working on. If you can wait to see Fredrickson until tomorrow afternoon—”
“I don’t need a babysitter, Tarek.”
“I know that.”
“Do you?”
“I can’t explain it,” he said. “But you know that feeling. I know you do. My gut is telling me something is off with that man. Don’t be too trusting of him.”
She was quiet for a moment. He guessed she was processing his warning. “I do know that feeling. I’ll keep my guard up.”
“Thank you.”
“Anything else?” she asked when he heaved out a breath.
“No. I guess not. I’ll see you at your office tomorrow.”
“Jack,” she said in the soft, soothing tone she used while interviewing witnesses. Hearing his name in that low voice made his heart skip a beat. “I know I don’t show it well, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”
“I’ll always look out for you,” he said in a gentle voice that matched hers. Closing his eyes tightly, he mentally kicked himself in the ass. That wasn’t what he’d meant to say or the voice he should have used to say it. “I just mean…”
Opening his eyes, he focused on the silence on the line. Pulling the phone from his ear, he breathed a sigh of relief when the screen showed that the call had ended. If he was lucky, she hadn’t heard that last little bit of their conversation. Something told him she’d never let him live that moment of sentimentality down if she had.
7
Holly trusted her instinct, but damned if Jack’s constant worrying about Eric Fredrickson hadn’t taken root in her mind. She knocked on the door and stepped to the side. Not out of view if he opened the door, but if he had malicious intent, he’d have to step onto the porch to grab her. That was a safety measure she hadn’t consciously taken with Fredrickson in weeks.
This morning, her adrenaline pumped a bit higher as she waited for him to answer. When he did, she skimmed over him, looking for signs that he was on edge. She found none.
“Ms. Austin,” he said, gesturing for her to enter.
She kept her right hand close to her hip, ready to draw her gun if needed. He took his usual seat on the other side of the coffee table, but instead of sitting, she stood behind the couch. “I just need a minute of your time,” she said to justify not sitting on the couch. “First, I wanted to apologize again about how things went with Detective Tarek yesterday. He’s a bit rough around the edges.”
“Fucking cops,” he muttered. “They don’t care. They just want to pin this on her having an affair so they can be done with it.”
“We did look into the county animal shelter, Mr. Fredrickson. After leaving here, we went to the shelter, and…Julia isn’t listed as a volunteer.”
He sat taller, narrowing his eyes a bit. Not angrily but with obvious confusion. “What does that mean?”
“We spoke with the woman who organizes volunteers. She didn’t know Julia. Is it possible Julia was going to a different shelter? One outside of the city?”
“No. They gave her a sticker when she started a few months ago. I was pissed when I saw it on her bumper. I didn’t want her ruining the paint.”
Holly bit her lip, trying to make sense of the two conflicting stories. Eric jumped to his feet, startling her, and as she’d done the day before, Holly lifted her left hand as she moved her right closer to her gun. Eric didn’t notice; he was looking at his phone.