On the way to the car, she asked, “What are your plans tonight?”
“I’m going to stop at my parents’ house, then head home. I need to go over some notes.”
She cocked her head. “Do you work all the time?”
Jordan flashed her a tight smile. “Of course. Don’t you?”
She blew out a short laugh. “Yeah. Pretty much.” She paused and bit her lip.
“What is it?”
Katie sighed. “Are you going to tell your parents we’re working together?”
Jordan pressed his lips together as he pondered that question. “I don’t know.”
She nodded, her eyes troubled. Jordan found himself wanting to soothe the agitation there. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her that it would be all right. He swallowed hard and resisted the desire to act on those feelings.
He pictured that day in the morgue. Looking down at his brother’s face. Surrounded by his parents’ grief and Katie’s guilt-ridden eyes.
He shuddered. Yeah. Better to turn those feelings off now before they developed into something that would break both of their hearts.
THREE
Wednesday morning Katie woke to the sun streaming through the blinds and a headache she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy. Except maybe her uncooperative intruder from yesterday. Yeah. He could have it.
She squinted against the light and held a hand to her throbbing head, wondering who’d stabbed her just above her right eye. She glanced at the clock. Eight-fifteen. Where was she?
Oh, right, Grandma Jean’s. And today was Wednesday. Grandma Jean would be at her weekly Bible study and Mariah, a crime-lab technician, would have left for work about thirty minutes ago.
Katie moved and the room tilted. She groaned and decided the pain felt like little men with ice picks were assaulting her head.
Medicine first.
Call in sick second.
Once she’d ticked both items off her list, she closed the curtains over the blinds and crawled back under the covers. Bracing her head against the headboard, she kept her eyes shut and let her mind spin.
Time passed in a blur. It seemed like mere minutes when her cell phone rang, jarring her from her twilight sleep. A quick glance at the clock told her it was lunchtime. Her stomach growled in agreement.
She answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Katie? You all right?” Jordan asked.
She supposed her froglike voice might have clued him in that something might be wrong. “Yeah. Had a bad headache.”
“Had? As in it’s gone now?”
She considered the question. “Not entirely, but it’s better. Manageable.”
“Manageable enough to meet me for lunch?”
Did she want to? Not really, because she had a feeling what the topic of conversation would be. But she’d made this decision to pursue her sister’s case. A case that wouldn’t even exist if Katie hadn’t turned her back on Lucy for just a little too long. Lucy had been seven years old when fourteen-year-old Katie had helped a neighbor with her groceries. When she’d returned to the yard, Lucy had been gone. And Katie had been blamed by her parents ever since. Especially her mother.
It wasn’t too late to back out, but she knew deep down she didn’t want to do that. She needed to know what had happened to Lucy, needed somehow to absolve herself of this raging guilt she’d carried for the last fourteen years. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”
“I think I remember you like pizza?”
“Of course.”
“How about Gino’s?”
The little pizza place about three minutes from Grandma Jean’s house. She swiped a hand through her hair. “Give me about thirty minutes.”
“Deal.”
“And I’m paying for mine, okay? I mean, this isn’t like a date, right?” she blurted. Silence from the other end. She fought the mortification at her silly assumption that he had even thought about paying for her lunch.
She opened her mouth to apologize only to hear him say on a choked laugh, “Well, if I’d been thinking along those lines, I’m not now.”
“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward. Was actually trying to avoid that by clearing that up before we met.”
He gave another low chuckle and she knew if she looked in the mirror, she’d be beet red. “You can pay for yours. See you soon, Katie.” His silky goodbye sent shivers dancing up her spine. Oh, no. She had not just done that, had she? Why, oh why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut?
And yet she couldn’t extinguish the spark of excitement that flared at the thought of being with him again. “It’s not a date,” she reminded herself as she flew through her routine, her headache all but gone.
Twenty-six minutes later, she walked through the door of the popular pizza café and spotted Jordan seated at a back table with a large pizza at the center. Christmas music played in the background, and a toasty fire added to the warmth of the atmosphere.
Katie slid into the chair opposite him. A glass of iced tea sat in front of her and she took a swig. He handed her a plate and a napkin. “Pepperoni all right?”
“More than all right. It’s my favorite.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
He had, huh? Erica?
She waited for him to mention her embarrassing moment on the phone, but he seemed to have let it go. She relaxed and for the next few minutes they ate while Katie wondered about the man across from her.
“What’s your story, Jordan?”
He stilled, glanced up at her then back to his pizza. “What do you mean?”
“You used to be with the FBI full time. Why did you leave to come work for Erica?”
“Partly because Brandon asked me to.” Brandon Hayes was Erica’s brother and partner with Finding the Lost. And Jordan’s roommate. He chewed his food and swallowed. “It’s a long story.”
He obviously didn’t want to talk about it, but she decided not to let him off the hook that easily. “I’ve got time.” He knew her entire sordid mess of a story. Would he trust her enough to share his background?
He stared at her then looked down at his food. “I was working with the Crimes Against Children division. Fighting online predators. I messed up and a kid died. End of story.”
Katie gasped. “Jordan, I’m so sorry.”
He continued to eat in silence, but Katie knew there was more. She decided to go for broke. “How did you mess up?”
He paused, set the uneaten piece of pizza on his plate and sighed. “I was outsmarted.”
She stared at him, skeptical. “I can’t see that happening.”
For a moment his eyes thawed and the grief that had been there faded a fraction. “Thanks for that.” He shook his head. “The guy on the other end of the computer had routed his IP address through so many different places, I was having a hard time tracking him. When I finally got a lock on him, it was too late. He’d killed the young girl and taken off.”
“Was he ever found?”
“Yes. The next day, when he tried to snatch another kid.”
She considered