no one will find them, without some experienced help anyway. I'm fairly confident they'll be safe there."
"Excellent." She liked the sound of "remote cabin." It wasn't a guarantee, but the folks pursuing James might not want to work that hard to get to the family.
He shifted from foot to foot, his intent gaze on her face. "Now what?"
Good question. She wanted to know more about the dead girlfriend, but there was little chance she'd get anything tonight unless she wanted to tell the police about her pre-911 visit. She didn't, which left her not much in the way of choices. She might still have friends on the job, but if they knew she'd been at a murder scene and left, it wouldn't go over well. Even friendship had limits when murder entered into the mix. The best choice, the only choice, was to go home, get some sleep, and hit it hard tomorrow.
"We go home," she told him with a shrug as she let her hand fall away from his arm.
The expression on his face could only be described as horror. "How can we do that? I mean, look what happened to that poor girl. If they're so quick to put a bullet in her, what's going to stop them from killing Jamie?"
She could sugar coat it, but why? Louie gave it to him straight. "Nothing."
"Then we've got to keep looking." He reached for the handle of the driver's door.
She put a hand on his arm again. "Not tonight. Right now, we're working blind and that's not good considering the stakes have gone up way beyond the bond money."
He shook his head. "No, I can't just go home. You do whatever you want. I'll keep looking."
She took both of his hands in hers. They were cold. "Paul. Go home. Get some sleep and I'll call you in the morning."
"I can't."
"Please."
He let out a big sigh, his green eyes intent on her face. "It just doesn't feel right. I need to be doing something."
She did understand. She also understood how futile the effort would be right at the moment. "I promise to call you first thing. We'll find him together."
Crap! Why had she said that? She worked alone. It was one of the beautiful things about her kind of work. She not only worked alone, she reported to no one. Not like when she was on the job where there were partners, superiors, and lest she forget, the politicians. For the last five years, she'd worked beautifully. Alone. Now all of a sudden one look into the fabulous green eyes of tall, red-haired, and handsome, and she made him a partner. So what if he was all those things and made her body buzz the second she touched him? Didn't mean she needed to invite him to hang around all the time. It was wrong on so many levels.
"You promise?" The hope in both his voice and his eyes made any thought of backing out impossible.
Louie sighed, let go of his hands and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. She flipped it open and looked up at him. "What's your home number?"
He told her and she programmed it in. "There." She showed him the display on her phone. "Now all I have to do is hit speed-dial and voila, we'll be connected in seconds."
He nodded. "All right, I'll go home. I expect to hear from you bright and early."
"It's a deal."
She opened the car door for him and he slipped in behind the wheel. Almost without conscious thought, she reached over and touched him on the shoulder. "I'll call you in the morning."
She watched him drive away. She'd have expected him to own a flashy car, a Jag perhaps or maybe a BMW. Instead he drove what she'd describe as a soccer-mom vehicle: a late model SUV. It made her smile. She liked this guy better by the minute.
No soccer-mom rig for her either. She opened the door to her 1970 Chevelle convertible and slid in. Before long she'd have to put the muscle car into storage for the winter. For now, she was enjoying the last vestiges of good weather. The raw horsepower of the machine and the way men drooled over the Black Cherry American muscle was hard to resist. Soon enough, she'd be in her foul weather ride, a four-by-four
"Excellent." She liked the sound of "remote cabin." It wasn't a guarantee, but the folks pursuing James might not want to work that hard to get to the family.
He shifted from foot to foot, his intent gaze on her face. "Now what?"
Good question. She wanted to know more about the dead girlfriend, but there was little chance she'd get anything tonight unless she wanted to tell the police about her pre-911 visit. She didn't, which left her not much in the way of choices. She might still have friends on the job, but if they knew she'd been at a murder scene and left, it wouldn't go over well. Even friendship had limits when murder entered into the mix. The best choice, the only choice, was to go home, get some sleep, and hit it hard tomorrow.
"We go home," she told him with a shrug as she let her hand fall away from his arm.
The expression on his face could only be described as horror. "How can we do that? I mean, look what happened to that poor girl. If they're so quick to put a bullet in her, what's going to stop them from killing Jamie?"
She could sugar coat it, but why? Louie gave it to him straight. "Nothing."
"Then we've got to keep looking." He reached for the handle of the driver's door.
She put a hand on his arm again. "Not tonight. Right now, we're working blind and that's not good considering the stakes have gone up way beyond the bond money."
He shook his head. "No, I can't just go home. You do whatever you want. I'll keep looking."
She took both of his hands in hers. They were cold. "Paul. Go home. Get some sleep and I'll call you in the morning."
"I can't."
"Please."
He let out a big sigh, his green eyes intent on her face. "It just doesn't feel right. I need to be doing something."
She did understand. She also understood how futile the effort would be right at the moment. "I promise to call you first thing. We'll find him together."
Crap! Why had she said that? She worked alone. It was one of the beautiful things about her kind of work. She not only worked alone, she reported to no one. Not like when she was on the job where there were partners, superiors, and lest she forget, the politicians. For the last five years, she'd worked beautifully. Alone. Now all of a sudden one look into the fabulous green eyes of tall, red-haired, and handsome, and she made him a partner. So what if he was all those things and made her body buzz the second she touched him? Didn't mean she needed to invite him to hang around all the time. It was wrong on so many levels.
"You promise?" The hope in both his voice and his eyes made any thought of backing out impossible.
Louie sighed, let go of his hands and pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket. She flipped it open and looked up at him. "What's your home number?"
He told her and she programmed it in. "There." She showed him the display on her phone. "Now all I have to do is hit speed-dial and voila, we'll be connected in seconds."
He nodded. "All right, I'll go home. I expect to hear from you bright and early."
"It's a deal."
She opened the car door for him and he slipped in behind the wheel. Almost without conscious thought, she reached over and touched him on the shoulder. "I'll call you in the morning."
She watched him drive away. She'd have expected him to own a flashy car, a Jag perhaps or maybe a BMW. Instead he drove what she'd describe as a soccer-mom vehicle: a late model SUV. It made her smile. She liked this guy better by the minute.
No soccer-mom rig for her either. She opened the door to her 1970 Chevelle convertible and slid in. Before long she'd have to put the muscle car into storage for the winter. For now, she was enjoying the last vestiges of good weather. The raw horsepower of the machine and the way men drooled over the Black Cherry American muscle was hard to resist. Soon enough, she'd be in her foul weather ride, a four-by-four
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