others. The bit of sparkle on her left hand caught his eye.
No. Way. He blinked. Brought her back into focus with no change.
His ring attached to a swollen and red looking finger.
What the…?
Her gaze followed his line of view, then bounced back to him. Panic blossomed in the depths. She used the appendage to tuck her hair behind one ear, and then kept it out of sight. “Do they share a bedroom?” As if there were no deeper issues between them, her voice was steady.
While it frustrated the heck out of him, he had to give her mad props. Fine. He could follow her lead.
He gave a slow shake of his head. Willed his heart to slow a fraction. They were talking, so he’d cling to that a moment. Give himself some time to figure out his next move.
“The younger two bunk together. They’re twelve and ten. Mom says the teen needed her own space.”
Amanda swallowed and turned her attention to the notepad. “Bedroom on the second floor?”
He blew out a breath. “Yup.”
She scribbled something in the margin of the notebook. “Where were the other children when this happened?”
“Outside. Playing in the family’s tree house. In the front yard.”
Her pen paused, mid-sentence. That warm gaze met his, again. Competent. Her eyebrows merged together. “Two young girls playing in the front yard and he goes after the harder target, in a bedroom?”
It didn’t make sense. “We already checked into the parents. They came back clean. Have lived in Boone since getting married. Model citizens. Active in community outreach and their children’s programs.”
“How does Jonas fit in?”
“Local law enforcement is limited. It’s a small town. The family knows him well. Requested his presence.”
CHAPTER FIVE
OF COURSE THE SBI agent’s presence had been requested.
The man was an enigma everybody wanted on their side. Pair Jonas with Robinson and you had a formidable team willing to disassemble even the trickiest puzzle, danger notwithstanding.
In the past, Amanda would have joined their ranks without a second thought. Found whatever evidence needed to form a task force or open a case. Forgone food and sleep to see that end.
Kept the two of them in line. And out of trouble. Or ridden into the thick of it, right alongside them.
She clenched her hand beneath the counter. Came in contact with tender flesh. The questions hadn’t disappeared from Robinson’s face. And, if she knew him at all, they wouldn’t stay hidden long. Not a chance.
Should have stayed in bed.
Everything was different. And taking what Robinson was offering—the closest to normal she’d seen in months she was tired of counting—wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring back lost lives. Fix skewed views. Forgive old hurts.
It certainly wouldn’t make her boss happy. The man had never come off his high risk analysis on the life of Amanda Nettles. Even toeing a tight line didn’t help. There was always something she’d done that wasn’t quite how he would’ve seen it accomplished.
With the government threatening cutbacks and the ever watchful eye of Internal Affairs, the man had more reason to keep a tight leash on his precinct. After the last few years, she couldn’t blame him. Didn’t mean she liked the studded collar he’d picked out.
Or the weekly accountability meetings. As if she were an alcoholic in danger of ditching sobriety.
“Homicide is a far cry from kidnapping. At least, at first glance and in most cases. And while our unit deals with missing persons cases, Kimberly’s disappearance isn’t even in my jurisdiction.”
The sentence coated her mouth in bitterness. Maybe she’d add this to her next meeting with her boss.
Told missing girl, out of jurisdiction, to screw off. Accountability. Check. Heartlessness. Gaining foothold.
Something hard glinted in Robinson’s blue eyes, the flecks of green forming intense bursts of the color. His lips pressed together a second. “I
T. K. F. Weisskopf Mark L. Van Name