Maybe then.
He trudged up the stairs to Felix’s room and took another look around. The drawer on the floor, the unmade bed, an unfinished 3-D puzzle of the capitol building. He sighed and picked up Felix’s favorite sweatshirt and tossed it across the footboard of the bed. A pair of jeans and a hoodie joined the sweatshirt.
His eyes caught on the picture on his son’s nightstand. Felix had been about two years old. He was laughing up at Shannon, his mother and Jonas’s ex-wife. It had been a happy time in his young life, Jonas’s life, too. Neither Felix nor Jonas had known the trouble that would come just a few short years away. Trouble brought on by Shannon and her commitment-phobic ways.
Jonas sighed, flipped off the light and headed to his own room. He crawled between the sheets, forcing his muscles to relax, his mind to drift into prayer. Until he remembered the crash he heard. The drawer to Felix’s nightstand had been yanked out and dumped. His heart thudded. The officers had come to the same conclusion he had. The intruder had already been in his house when he’d arrived home. Either the man hadn’t heard him come in and drop into the recliner—or he hadn’t cared and just continued his search.
Jonas debated whether to get up and clean up the drawer or wait until later.
It would wait. He drifted. Sleep beckoned.
At least until the strange beeping jerked him awake again.
Jonas sat straight up, his adrenaline spiking once more. Heart thundering in his chest, he grabbed the baseball bat he’d placed on the floor near his bed and swung his legs over the side. He stood and padded on bare feet to the door.
The faint beeping sounded again. Then all was silent.
Jonas’s fingers flexed around the bat. He grabbed his cell phone with his left hand and shoved it into the waistband of his knit shorts.
More beeping.
Jonas followed the sound into his son’s bedroom two doors down from his. He stood in the doorway and listened.
Nothing.
And then he heard it again. Louder this time. He was definitely closer.
Jonas flipped the light on and blinked against the sudden brightness. When his eyes adjusted, he dropped to his knees on the hardwood floors and scanned the area under Felix’s dresser. Finding nothing, he rose and moved to his son’s bedside table. The drawer still lay on its side. He grabbed the small flashlight and went to his knees once again.
Jonas flashed the light under the bed. The beeping sounded right next to his ear. He lifted the mattress, separating it from the box springs, and froze, puzzled. A cell phone? He snagged it and dropped the mattress back into place. Fingers curled around the phone, he lifted it up to study it. “Who does this belong to?” he muttered. One of Felix’s friends? But why would Felix have it hidden under his mattress? Had he stolen it?
Jonas snapped the light off and carried the phone into his bedroom. He flipped on the lamp and sank onto the bed, his eyes still on the device. Low battery. Hence the beeping.
He touched the screen to bring the phone to life. A picture stared back at him. A woman holding a baby. He frowned as recognition hit him. He knew that woman. He’d seen her on the news, hadn’t he? And in the papers. He got up and strode into the kitchen to grab the newspaper from the counter.
There. Right on the front page. Housekeeper for Congressman Harland Jeffries, Rosa Gomez had been found at the bottom of the cliffs in President’s Park approximately two months ago and the investigation continued to make front-page news as new evidence came to light. The Capitol K-9 Unit had been working the case and the story had stayed hot, the media constantly reminding everyone that this case hadn’t been solved yet.
And someone had just broken into his house looking for a phone. He stared at the device. Could he have been looking for this one?
His thoughts went immediately to Brooke Clark, a Capitol K-9 Unit team member who was working the case.
An officer and a beautiful woman. He pushed aside the personal thoughts and focused on what to do about this phone. Right now, he couldn’t worry about how Felix had gotten ahold of it, he had to turn it in.
And he knew just the person he wanted to give it to.
* * *
Brooke jerked out of the light sleep she’d managed to fall into sometime between her last sip of warm tea and a prayer for divine help in solving her case. She rolled to grab her phone from the end table. “’Lo?”
“I woke you up. I’m sorry.”
Sleep fled. She sat up. “Jonas Parker?” Her heart stuttered. Just saying his name brought back a flood of memories. Both wonderful and...painful. Along with boatloads of regret. The same feelings that rushed through her every time she saw or spoke to him. Which hadn’t been too long ago. Maybe a month? Amazing that she had no trouble pulling the memory of his voice from the depths of her tired mind. But then why would she? She often dreamed of him, their past times together. And they hadn’t even dated. Not once. She blinked. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re working the case about the congressman’s son’s death, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Michael Jeffries.” She cleared her throat. “You called me at four o’clock in the morning to ask that?”
“No, I called to tell you that I think I found something that you might need for your investigation.”
“What?”
“A phone with a picture of Rosa Gomez and her two-year-old son as the wallpaper.”
Fully awake now, Brooke swung her legs over the edge of the bed. At the foot of the bed, Mercy lifted her head and perked her ears. “Where did you find the phone?” she asked.
The fact that Rosa’s wallet and phone hadn’t been found with her body had raised a lot of questions. Like had her fall from the cliffs been an accident or murder? And if it had been an accident, where were the items? And if it had been murder, had the murderer stolen them?
Another question: Was Rosa’s death connected to the shooting of her boss, Congressman Jeffries, and the murder of his son? So far, they had few suspects, one being a senator’s daughter, Erin Eagleton. She’d disappeared the night of the murder and her starfish charm, engraved with her initials, had been found at the scene. Brooke was glad that Rosa’s child was now in the custody of his aunt, but so many questions remained. Maybe the phone Jonas had would answer some of them.
“Ah... Well, that’s the problem. And one of the reasons I called you.”
“Come on, Jonas, tell me.”
“I found the phone under my son’s mattress.”
Brooke threw the covers back, wide awake now. “You found it where?” Surely he hadn’t said—
“Under his mattress.”
He had said it.
“And that’s not all,” he continued. “Someone broke into my house tonight and demanded I give him ‘the phone.’ Of course I didn’t know what he was talking about at the time, but now I’m feeling quite sure he meant the one I’m holding.”
Brooke struggled to process everything. “Are you all right? Is Felix okay?” Pain shafted through her. She pushed it away. When she’d met him, Jonas was working as a vet at the K-9 dog training facility. He’d been divorced, with a young son. And he hadn’t made any secret of the fact that he found her attractive. She’d felt the same spark but had smothered it as best she could. Jonas had also never made any secret of the fact that he wanted a houseful of children.
Children she could never give him thanks to a hysterectomy at the age of eighteen. The car