the woman and the man, Dean thought.
It was a cop thing, that weird little burn in the gut, a click in the back of the
brain. Something that made a cop a cop, really.
They’d both known, even before they’d seen the plates, whom they’d found.
“You okay, Jensen?” Burt said as she reached him.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Her voice was steady, level. Steel, Dean thought again.
“You did a hell of a job on that Pruitt case last week.”
Her mouth twisted. “Yeah, well. I was hoping to see that fucker in court, but hey.
We’ve already got a few more sons of bitches we’ll be locking up, sounds like.”
Loughland nodded, then looked over at Dean. “West.”
Dean nodded.
“I called my family,” she said softly. “Tate … well. Don’t be surprised if your guys
have to deal with him. He’s already chomping at the bit. But I couldn’t not tell him,
either.”
“Can’t see as how you could avoid it.” Burt nodded. He opened his mouth to say something
else, but before he could, one of the men closest to the car called out, “Looks like
a key is still in the ignition.”
A soft sound escaped Jensen’s throat.
Dean felt his heart break, jagged little pieces. Baby …
As much as he wanted to reach for her, he knew that was the last thing she wanted
or needed just then.
Chapter Five
It was oddly silent as the techs went over the car.
Jensen’s phone had rang three times and on the fourth, she’d pulled it from her pocket,
muted it, and then put it on the nearby table. Now she stood, staring at the car with
her arms wrapped around her midsection and her gaze locked almost blindly on the mud-caked
vehicle.
She barely moved.
She barely seemed to breathe.
Her skin was pale and her knuckles all but bloodless as she gripped her elbows, like
she had to have something to hold onto, otherwise, she’d fly apart.
One of the techs dropped a whisk brush and the sound of it clattered through the surreal
silence. Jensen jumped, the sound of her gasp striking him in the heart.
From two feet away, he couldn’t reach out and touch her the way he wanted to, the
way he needed to. He tried to catch her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to look at anything
but the car.
Dean wasn’t really surprised. But he hated the silence, the almost oppressive atmosphere
that had fallen across the area. He suspected Burt had spoken with the team. Little
wonder they were showing respect for Jensen and the work itself was grim, even though
there was little more than mud and a lot of debris in the car.
A whole hell of a lot of water. Damn. It was still leaking from the car, even now.
From inside the car, from the trunk, under the hood. Everywhere, puddling all over
the floor. It was a mess he was glad he wouldn’t have to clean up.
The crime scene techs were careful and thorough, he couldn’t fault them on anything
and he was watching, watching them damn close.
Jensen’s gaze kept traveling over the car and he knew she wanted to be the one searching
over it, even though she had to realize the same thing he already knew.
The chances of finding much of anything were slim to none.
That car had been in the river a good long time. It had disappeared the same night
her mother had and if the car had gone into the river the night she went missing …
Hell.
“It’s time to open the trunk,” Burt said, his voice echoing, too loudly, in the strained,
silent air.
Burt cut Jensen a look, almost like he was asking permission.
Dean knew that wasn’t the case.
He was asking if she was ready.
She stood there, her slim fingers going up to toy with the necklace she always wore.
The charm that hung from it was silver, a slim little bar, set with a ruby in the
center.
Her index finger rubbed over the ruby, again and again and after almost thirty seconds
had passed, she finally dragged her gaze away from the car and looked at Burt.
A single nod and then she went back to staring at
It was a cop thing, that weird little burn in the gut, a click in the back of the
brain. Something that made a cop a cop, really.
They’d both known, even before they’d seen the plates, whom they’d found.
“You okay, Jensen?” Burt said as she reached him.
“I’m fine,” she said.
Her voice was steady, level. Steel, Dean thought again.
“You did a hell of a job on that Pruitt case last week.”
Her mouth twisted. “Yeah, well. I was hoping to see that fucker in court, but hey.
We’ve already got a few more sons of bitches we’ll be locking up, sounds like.”
Loughland nodded, then looked over at Dean. “West.”
Dean nodded.
“I called my family,” she said softly. “Tate … well. Don’t be surprised if your guys
have to deal with him. He’s already chomping at the bit. But I couldn’t not tell him,
either.”
“Can’t see as how you could avoid it.” Burt nodded. He opened his mouth to say something
else, but before he could, one of the men closest to the car called out, “Looks like
a key is still in the ignition.”
A soft sound escaped Jensen’s throat.
Dean felt his heart break, jagged little pieces. Baby …
As much as he wanted to reach for her, he knew that was the last thing she wanted
or needed just then.
Chapter Five
It was oddly silent as the techs went over the car.
Jensen’s phone had rang three times and on the fourth, she’d pulled it from her pocket,
muted it, and then put it on the nearby table. Now she stood, staring at the car with
her arms wrapped around her midsection and her gaze locked almost blindly on the mud-caked
vehicle.
She barely moved.
She barely seemed to breathe.
Her skin was pale and her knuckles all but bloodless as she gripped her elbows, like
she had to have something to hold onto, otherwise, she’d fly apart.
One of the techs dropped a whisk brush and the sound of it clattered through the surreal
silence. Jensen jumped, the sound of her gasp striking him in the heart.
From two feet away, he couldn’t reach out and touch her the way he wanted to, the
way he needed to. He tried to catch her eyes, but she couldn’t seem to look at anything
but the car.
Dean wasn’t really surprised. But he hated the silence, the almost oppressive atmosphere
that had fallen across the area. He suspected Burt had spoken with the team. Little
wonder they were showing respect for Jensen and the work itself was grim, even though
there was little more than mud and a lot of debris in the car.
A whole hell of a lot of water. Damn. It was still leaking from the car, even now.
From inside the car, from the trunk, under the hood. Everywhere, puddling all over
the floor. It was a mess he was glad he wouldn’t have to clean up.
The crime scene techs were careful and thorough, he couldn’t fault them on anything
and he was watching, watching them damn close.
Jensen’s gaze kept traveling over the car and he knew she wanted to be the one searching
over it, even though she had to realize the same thing he already knew.
The chances of finding much of anything were slim to none.
That car had been in the river a good long time. It had disappeared the same night
her mother had and if the car had gone into the river the night she went missing …
Hell.
“It’s time to open the trunk,” Burt said, his voice echoing, too loudly, in the strained,
silent air.
Burt cut Jensen a look, almost like he was asking permission.
Dean knew that wasn’t the case.
He was asking if she was ready.
She stood there, her slim fingers going up to toy with the necklace she always wore.
The charm that hung from it was silver, a slim little bar, set with a ruby in the
center.
Her index finger rubbed over the ruby, again and again and after almost thirty seconds
had passed, she finally dragged her gaze away from the car and looked at Burt.
A single nod and then she went back to staring at
Similar Books
