by Dani Pettrey
A delicate tattoo marked the hollow of her left shoulder blade. He couldn’t believe he’d never seen it before—a black feather that morphed partway up into colorful birds soaring free. It was delicate yet conveyed a powerful message. He longed to trail his finger along the curve of the feather.
“Thanks for coming, especially on such short notice.” Her sandy-blond hair was pulled up into a twisty knot, a loose strand grazing her bare shoulder. She slipped it behind her ear. “I hope I didn’t pull you from anything.”
Was she fishing for details about how he’d been spending his evening? Nah. He was being foolish—reading more into it than there was. Hoping for more. Hope. He hadn’t experienced any in a long time until Avery entered his life. “No problem at all,” he said, “especially if you suspect your friend is missing. You know the sooner the search starts, the higher the chances of locating her.”
She dipped her head. “Thank you.”
He smiled. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
She looked him in the eye, and his heart momentarily stopped. “You believed me,” she said, her green eyes mesmerizing.
His brow furrowed. “The police didn’t?”
She shook her head. “No. It didn’t help that the officer in charge knows Skylar.”
“Oh?”
“It was Kim Fuller. I didn’t mention it the times we worked with her, but the three of us hung out as teens. She knows Skylar hasn’t changed. I’d hoped . . .” She shook her head again. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, Skylar is flakey and takes off from time to time. Kim believes that’s the situation here.”
It was good Avery wasn’t trying to sugarcoat the situation or deny who Skylar was. But that wasn’t Avery’s style, and he adored her for it.
“Why do you believe differently?” he asked.
“Because she was so excited about tonight. This was a big opportunity, to have worked with a significant photographer.”
Maybe he was off base, but it seemed like Avery might have been excited about tonight too—like there was more involved than the show itself.
“And yet she posed for someone else?” No reason to dance around that fact. Skylar had to know that would stir an enormous commotion. Perhaps that’s what she wanted—how she thought she’d make a name for herself, but if so, she’d only shot herself in the foot.
“True,” Avery conceded, “but she’s not answering her cell, and when I came to check on her an intruder bowled me over.”
She cricked her neck to the side again; it was obviously still bothering her. “As you can see the place is a mess,” she continued. “But this”—she pointed to the clothes flung willy-nilly over furniture and in a mound on the eighties-style pile carpet—“is sadly Skylar’s norm. The cops said the place hasn’t been tossed, and after looking around, I agree.”
He tried to rein in his thoughts and gain some composure. “You also mentioned they found no sign of a break-in?” He set his kit down on the only open space on the otherwise magazine-and-mail-filled table. An empty pizza box sat discarded on the floor beside it, a handful of empty beer and soda cans on the shelf beneath the coffee table.
“No.”
“Okay. Did they file a missing persons report?”
“No, but they said if her boyfriend—who occasionally lives with her for all intents and purposes when they are ‘on’—reports her missing as well, then Kim said she’d file the report.”
“Did the police track Skylar’s cell?”
“Yes. Kim tracked it as a favor to me.”
“And?”
“It’s not showing up. Not tracking.”
“Did she have an iPhone or Android?”
“It’s an iPhone. She just messaged me a couple days ago all excited about the showing, which is why this makes no sense.” Her eyes narrowed. “Why does it make a difference which type of phone Skylar has?”
“Because an iPhone will still emit a signal even if it’s turned off, and since you can’t pull the battery out . . . if it’s not tracking, then it means it has been destroyed.”
She swallowed.
“Third,” he said, this question being most important to him, “did the police file a report about the assault on you?”
“Yes, on the assault report. No, on the break-in since . . .”
“There were no signs of a break-in, despite someone being inside. Any chance Skylar knew the intruder? Perhaps he had a key?”
“Then why the flashlight?”
Parker glanced at the tiki lamp beside them. The lights were clearly working.
“Don’t worry. I wore my gloves when I turned them on,” she said.
“You still carry them with you?” She now worked photographing vitamins and supplements for a major pharmaceutical company out of Baltimore. Gloves not required.
She shrugged with a sheepish smile. “Old habits . . .”
He smiled, glad to hear that, because the habit of working with her at his side wasn’t dying for him at all. The loss of her in his daily life still stung deep. He’d wondered if she felt the same, and the gloves were the first sign that might be the case. He glanced around before his hopes got too high. It could just be habit, like she said. “Any idea what the intruder was after?”
“Not a clue, but that’s why I called you. I thought we could run the place as if she’s a missing person. Find some clue to the circumstances under which she left, when she did so, and I pray some clarity as to where she was headed. Not to mention what the intruder was after. Also, I have the secondary photograph I told you about in my car. Wrapped as securely as I could manage with what I had on hand.”
“You removed evidence from the crime scene?”
“You sound just like Declan.”
“Declan?” He frowned.
“Crazy enough. Turns out he is the federal officer who responded to Gerard’s call about the art theft.”
“Art theft is not Declan’s area.”
“He’s doing a favor for a friend.”
“I see, but why did you remove evidence? I can only imagine how Declan flipped out.”
“I had a call waiting from Tanner when I came to. When I called her back, I got Declan. That was fun. But as I explained to him, Gerard was going to throw the portrait in the trash. I did what I had to do to keep it protected. It’s in my car. Declan wants you to process it when we get to your lab.”
“Okay. We’ll finish here and then head for the lab, but one thing first.”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t allow the paramedics to check you out, did you?”
“I’m—”
“Fine.” He cocked his head. “You said he knocked you down and out.”
“Yes.”
“So you hit your head?”
She bit her bottom lip.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He wiggled two fingers in her direction. “Come here, lass. Let me check you out.”
6
Nice try.” She smirked, holding her ground. “You’ve been trying to check me out since we met.” It was hard enough being in the same room as Parker, but his hands on her . . .
Heat rushed into her cheeks.
“See . . .” He smirked. “This is precisely why I miss working together. My new photographer has no sense of witty banter, but he’s a him, so on second thought, I’m rather thankful we don’t have the same chemistry.”
“You hired someone new?” Of course he had, but she hadn’t anticipated it stinging quite so sharply, and it was easier to respond to that than the chemistry comment.
“Trust me, I didn’t want to, but since you insisted on leaving . . .”
She swallowed. She’d had no choice. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The choice was to stay and get her heart pummeled or to leave and have it break anyway.
Despite her greatest resistance, he tugged her to sit in front of him, her head angled so the light illuminated her hair. His fingers wove through it, the tips of them moving tenderly across her scalp, feeling f
or bumps.
She gnawed her bottom lip, trying to ignore how good his simple touch felt. This is a terrible idea.
“Cold, love?” he asked, his Irish lilt resonating deep inside her.
He skimmed his fingers along the length of her forearm. “Gooseflesh,” he whispered.
Mortified. She was absolutely mortified. He was checking her head for injury, and his touch had rippled goose bumps along her skin. “I’m fine,” she eked out. More like, I’m a mess. A thoroughly ridiculous mess.
She wasn’t some simpering female, going weak in the knees at the sight of a handsome man. She was a strong, independent woman, but Parker . . . He’d reached her on an up-to-then-unknown level. His gorgeous looks aside, he was captivating—intelligent, innately curious, loving, protective, and loyal. Loyal to his friends, his family, and his first love. She swallowed. She admired him for it, but at the same time the latter sheared her heart.
“You’ve got a decent wallop,” he said, the spot his fingers hovered over tender even to his soft touch. “Stay awake for a while, and I’ll keep my eye on you. You should be fine.”
“Thanks.” She swooped to her feet, away from his touch, and smoothed out her dress. “It’ll take us quite a while to run the trailer, and then the photo, so no problems there.”
He nodded, a soulful longing lingering in his eyes. Had he felt the current coursing through him too? Did she intrigue him as he did her? Admire her? That would be funny given her past, which, unfortunately, he was standing smack in the middle of.
Hours passed, and Parker reveled in the comfort and peace Avery’s presence always brought him. It’d been so long since he’d felt peace. It was addictive. She was addictive. But she was off tonight.
Naturally, she was concerned about her friend, but something else lingered there. Unease. Tension. Restlessness.
Was being in Skylar’s place, back in her old neighborhood, the cause?
He longed to ask, but now was not the right time. Instead, he focused on the task at hand, running the next set of fingerprints, which he’d found on the nightstand, and within a moment he got a hit.
“Connor Davis,” he said, showing Avery the DUI mug shot of the twenty-one-year-old on his scanner’s screen. “Recognize him?”
She shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Not familiar.”
“Skylar date younger guys?” Close to eight years.
“Skylar ‘dated’ whomever she felt like, despite the fact she had a boyfriend.”
“That couldn’t have gone over well with her boyfriend.”
“It didn’t.”
“Any chance her boyfriend could have played a role in her disappearance? We found his fingerprints all over the place.”
“What exactly are you accusing me of?”
Parker turned to find a broad-shouldered, brawny man looming in the doorframe, a metal bat poised to swing in his thick-fingered grip.
His angry gaze pinned on Avery. “What are you doing here? And who’s this guy?”
7
Avery’s heart plunged at the dangerous bite in Gary’s voice. He wasn’t going to make this easy. Then again, he never did.
He cocked his head, and an obnoxious grin spread across his face. “Knew it wouldn’t be long before you came back.” He slithered to her side and leaned in, his breath thick on her neck. “Playing a part only lasts so long, darling.”
Every inch of her skin crawled.
Parker stepped toward them, intensity flaring in his green eyes. “Why don’t you take a step back, mate?”
“Mate?” Gary chuckled and looked at Avery. “Who is this guy? Don’t tell me you two . . . ?”
Please let this all go away.
“Let me guess,” Gary said. “You haven’t told him about us, have you, kitten?” He cupped her neck, running his fingers along her hairline.
Parker lunged forward, but before he could reach her, she took Gary’s hand, twisted, and dropped him to his knees, holding his fingers tenuously at the breaking point.
Gary hollered an expletive and moved to swing the bat with his free hand.
Parker kicked it out of his hold and tugged Avery into his arms. “Nice move,” he whispered.
“Thanks.” Kickboxing and self-defense had paid off, and yet she still felt that horrible sickness in the pit of her belly. That pet name slipping from Gary’s lips . . . the life she’d been part of . . . so many painful memories mingled here, taunting her.
She glanced over to see Gary shaking out his hand and bending over to pick up his bat.
Parker pulled his Wilson .45. “I don’t think so.”
“You brought a cop with you?” Gary roared as he straightened without the bat.
No sense clarifying his misperception. Parker was a crime-scene investigator—one of the best in the country—who contracted with the local police departments and federal agencies on a regular basis, but letting Gary think he was a sworn officer worked fine.
Gary pointed at Avery, his entire body taut like a cord about to snap. “You’re lucky you got backup with you.”
Parker cocked his head, his gun aimed at Gary’s center mass. “Was that a threat?”
Gary’s gaze bored into her.
Just like old times. Trying to intimidate her. Only back then it worked. Now, not a chance.
“Yeah, it was a threat, so you better watch your back, Av.”
“No worries,” Parker said with a salty smile. “I’ve got her back.”
“And you don’t intimidate me anymore,” she said. Gary was nothing but a bully, and she no longer played those stupid games.
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.” He winked.
“I think it’s time you left,” Parker said, his finger caressing the trigger.
“Wait.” Avery rested her hand on Parker’s tattooed forearm. “I need to ask him a few questions.”
Gary chuckled. “You seriously think I’m going to help you in any way after this little stunt?”
“I’m trying to find Skylar.”
“Yeah, aren’t we all.”
“We?”
“You, me, a couple chicks, couple dudes.” He swiped his finger under his nose. “Suddenly Sky’s quite popular.”
“You know who they were? What they wanted?”
“I can guess what the dudes wanted.”
Avery shook that off. “When was the last time you saw Skylar?”
He shrugged. “The other night.”
“Which night?”
“Thursday.”
“So last night? What time?”
“I dunno. Maybe nine or ten. I was headed for McDougal’s.”
“She say where she was going?”
“No, and you know Sky. She never said. I never asked.”
That wasn’t true. At least not in Avery’s case. Gary had been like a warden when they were together. Keeping tabs on everywhere she went. She’d never allow herself to be in a position of vulnerability like that again. Hence why she left the one-sided relationship with Parker. One-sided in the sense Parker could never give as fully as she.
“She have luggage with her?” she asked.
Gary swiped his nose again. “You mean that ratty duffel she always carried around?”
“Yeah.”
“Not that I saw.”
“Why are you looking for her now?” He’d never chased after Skylar before. Just let her do her thing and hooked back up with her when she returned. Sadly, she always returned.
“Why do you think?” A gross, leering smile curled on Gary’s lips.
Fearing she might hurl, Avery quickly let that thread of conversation drop. “The other people you mentioned . . . Anything you can tell me about them?”
“I dunno. The one dude was talking with Sky at her door a few days ago, but she didn’t let him in.”
“Any idea what they were talking about?”
“Nah. Like I said she didn’t let him in. Just talked to him through the screen door.”
“Can you describe hi
m?”
“Average height, lightweight, brown hair. Never really got a good look at his face.”
“You said there were a couple girls?” That was odd. Sky didn’t play well with other women. Only reason she and Sky were friends was because their moms were besties until Avery’s took off.
“Yeah. Saw the one chick banging on Sky’s door once, but Sky wasn’t home that day.”
“What day?”
“I don’t know. Last weekend, maybe.”
“Can you describe her?”
“Yeah. She was hot.”
“We’re looking for a bit more than that.”
“I don’t know. Little thing. Blond ponytail. Would’ve introduced myself but she left pretty quick.”
Lovely. Gary hit on anything that walked.
“And the other lady?”
“Came sometime last week. Saw her also banging on the door as I was heading out to McDougal’s.”
His nightly ritual.
“So around nine or ten?”
“Probably.”
“What’d she look like?”
“It was dark, and I was driving past. Really couldn’t say.”
“Was Sky home?”
He shrugged. “Saw the porch light flick on in my rearview mirror.”
“Did you see Skylar answer?”
“I was already out on the main road by then.” He frowned. “What’s this all about?”
Avery quickly explained everything that had occurred at the gallery and about the intruder.
“Some dude broke into Sky’s place? He’s lucky I wasn’t here. I would have taken care of ’im.”
She didn’t need Gary going all vigilante on anyone, but she did need his help. “Will you call the police and file a missing persons report?”
Gary frowned. “What?”
“I think something’s happened to Skylar, but with her rep for taking off and no family to report her missing, the officer said since you lived off and on with Skylar, she’d file a report if you also said she was missing.”
“You know I’m not a fan of talking to the cops.”
“But aren’t you worried about Skylar?”
