by Dianna Love
“Oh, but that’s the curious thing. I didn’t.” She aimed a glare at Blake that he ignored as he studied the menu.
“I’m starving. Where’s our waitress?” asked Blake.
Magically, Catherine appeared and chastised, “Jennifer, you told me you were eating alone. I didn’t know you were expecting Mr. Hotness, here.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes as Catherine poured Blake’s coffee and took his order. She glanced at Blake. He was wearing his detective “uniform” of a starched white shirt, tie and dark pants. The shirt stretched across his chest and arms, revealing the hard muscles beneath. To most people, he was damned intimidating, but she’d never felt that way about him. She still remembered the day she saw him at the lake where his scuba team was searching for her car. Her first thought was that he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen with his hard-muscled body, dark hair and eyes the color of espresso. But it was his smile that impressed her the most; it was brilliant and filled with warmth. Jennifer was sure he melted a lot of hearts with that smile. But she’d pledged hers wouldn’t be one of them.
“Catherine, when do you start classes at the Police Academy?” Blake asked, and then sipped his coffee.
“January 10! Eleven more months and I can’t wait.” The young woman glowed with excitement.
Before Blake could respond, his cell phone vibrated on the table. He picked it up, looked at the display and said, “Excuse me, ladies, I need to take this.” Grabbing his jacket, he maneuvered through the breakfast crowd, so he could go outside to take the call.
“I don’t blame you for being excited about going to the academy. I loved it,” said Jennifer. “How’s your boyfriend going to feel about you being away all that time?”
“Nicholas is just going to have to get used to it.” Catherine paused for a moment then continued. “If I thought for a second that I had a chance with the hot Italian hunk you’re having breakfast with, Nicholas would be history. Are you dating him, Jennifer?”
“No. Of course not.” As soon as the words left her lips, she realized she had said them too loud and too empathically. A couple of deputies nearby turned to look at her. Damn it. The last thing she wanted to do was to add to the rumor mill.
Jennifer studied the young woman and wondered if Catherine and her boyfriend were getting along. She’d seen them together and they seemed so much in love. Of course, if anyone knows that looks are deceiving, it’s a detective. Jennifer knew from experience that things aren’t always what they seem.
“Just wondering,” Catherine said. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you when you’re not watching. I think he has a thing for you.”
“Nope. There’s no ‘thing,’ Catherine. Just co-workers. That’s all.”
Jennifer felt her face heat as Catherine headed back toward the kitchen. The waitress returned a short time later with a huge tray balanced on her shoulder with both breakfast orders. Blake followed her toward the table.
Starving, the two detectives dug into their food. Blake was shoveling it in like it was the first meal he’d had in days.
“Hungry?” she asked.
“Worked out this morning and ran three miles, then lifted weights,” Blake said as he stole a biscuit from her plate, even though there was a basket of them on the table.
“Hey!” She said, smacking his hand.
He grinned mischievously as he split the biscuit in two and put a dollop of apple butter on each slice. There was something intimate about the way he slid one half onto her plate and he took a bite out the other. “I heard you took down the kid who was robbing all the 7-Elevens.”
“He’s not a kid. You make it sound like he was an elementary school student. He’s a twenty-two-year-old brute.”
“I heard you flipped him on his stomach and had the cuffs on him before your partner could get out of the car.”
“So what? Dick was calling for backup.” Jennifer’s partner was an older man, in his late fifties, and she got defensive when anyone questioned Dick’s abilities. He was a damn good cop and she was lucky to have him as her partner.
“What’s up with Dick lately anyway? He seems distracted, like he’s got something on his mind.”
“He’s private. I guess if he wants me or anyone else to know what’s going on with him, he’ll tell us.”
***
He’d noticed her a week ago and had learned her name was Catherine Thomas. He’d visited the cafe every day since, purposely sitting at a table in her section. He watched her as she talked with another waitress at the coffee stand. She swiped a section of sun-lightened brown hair out of her eyes with the back of her hand and tightened her ponytail tie. She was young, in her twenties, and full of self-confidence, as was evident by the way she blatantly flirted with him and deliberately brushed against his body as she poured his coffee. His mama would have said the girl was a whore just asking for it.
Catherine Thomas was young, but not too young to be considered prey. Not too young for what he had in mind for her. He clenched his jaw at the thought. He was an idiot to think the urges would magically disappear just because he’d moved to a new town, new state. The impulses had returned so strong last week, when he noticed this girl, it nearly rocked him out of his chair. Shit! He could never resist the urges. Never.
Catherine headed toward him toting a full pot of hot coffee, her hips swaying seductively as she walked. His chest tightened as his blood pressure rose and a roiling heat filled his belly. Quickly wiped the sheen of sweat from his brow, he clenched his jaw as he fought for control. He moved his chair closer to the table in an effort to hide his burgeoning erection.
“Hi, handsome. Coffee?” asked Catherine.
When he nodded, she reached across him for his cup and brushed her breast against his arm, sending a fresh shot of lust shooting through his body like a bullet.
“Are you new to the area? You must be. With a face like yours, I’d have remembered you.” Catherine shot a wide grin at him.
He ignored her question, focused on the menu and said, “I’ll take the omelet with cheese, mushrooms and steak with an order of hash browns.” He closed the plastic menu and handed it to her as he reached for his coffee. As she moved back toward the kitchen, he noted her athletic build and firm ass. He became aroused anew as he thought of what he’d be doing to her soon — very soon.
***
Jennifer grabbed a pillow to put over her head. Damn it. It was Saturday, her day off, the only chance to sleep in. Who in the hell was hammering? The pounding stopped for a moment, then started back up again. Shit! She threw her pillow across the room, giving up on sleeping in, but determined to find out who was being so loud, so early. Slipping on her white terrycloth bathrobe, she opened her bedroom door. It was then she realized, it wasn’t hammering she had heard. Someone was pounding frantically on her front door. Jennifer ran down the stairs and whipped open the door.
Julie and Fred Thomas, who lived about four blocks from her, stood on her front porch, both looking as though they hadn’t slept all night.
“Where’s your dad?” Fred demanded, looking past her into the house.
“Why are you looking for my dad?”
“He’s the fucking sheriff, isn’t he?” Fred was wide-eyed and his face red with fear or anger or a mixture of the two. “He’s not answering his door.”
Jennifer knew her parents had gone away for a fishing trip, but said nothing. It was none of Fred Thomas’s business. Besides, she was a freaking detective. Why had it not occurred to Fred that she might be able help him?
“Fred, stop it. Calm down,” Julie pleaded. She gently pulled on her husband’s arm.
“What’s going on? Why are you two so upset?” Jennifer had known the couple for years and they were two of the happiest people she knew. Whatever had them this upset had to be serious. “Come in.” She showed them to the living room where they sat on her sofa. Jennifer sat on an easy chair close by.
Fred scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s Catherin
e. She didn’t come home last night.”
“Well, maybe she had a good reason. Maybe...” Jennifer began. She almost suggested that Catherine had probably stayed the night with Nicholas. They’d been seeing each other for at least a year. She stopped herself. Fred and Julie Thomas were pillars in the Methodist Church. Catherine may have hidden their relationship from them.
“No, it’s not like that. She calls. She always calls. That damn cell phone is plastered to her like super glue.”
“Could she be with Nicholas?”
“Jennifer, we know when she stays the night with Nicholas. She calls so we don’t worry. Something is wrong, I tell you. I can feel it. A mother knows.” Julie sank further into the sofa, giving up on composure, and sobbed into her hands. Fred slipped his arms around her shoulders.
“Okay, let’s stay calm and talk about when you last saw Catherine.”
“I saw her early last evening. She was going for a run.” Fred began. “I remember seeing her standing by the small table we have near the front door. She was putting her keys and cell phone into her pocket. She turned and smiled at me, and then she left. I should have stopped her.”
“Honey, how could you have known to do that? Stop beating yourself up.” Julie scooted closer to Fred and held his hand. They both looked small and frightened. “We’re both thinking worst case scenario and we need to stop.”
“We want to report Catherine missing,” stated Fred. “What do we need to do?”
Jennifer grabbed her coat and keys. “You need to complete an official missing person document at the sheriff’s office. Come with me.”
***
Later, at the sheriff’s office, Jennifer peered through the one-way glass as Blake Stone talked with Fred and Julie Thomas in the interview room. Blake was lead detective on call, so if this turned into a missing person case, it was his.
“When was the last time you saw Catherine?” Blake looked directly at Fred when he asked the question. Fred seemed angry and hostile as he sat in the chair across the table from him.
“Damn it all, I just gave Jennifer Brennan that information. We’re wasting valuable time!” Fred shouted, pounding his fist on the table.
“Fred, I need for you to answer the question so that we can file an official missing person report so we can find your daughter.” Blake’s voice was low in an effort to calm Fred.
Julie put her hand over Fred’s and squeezed. “Honey, answer Detective Stone’s questions.”
Tiredly, Fred sighed and said, “I saw Catherine around dinner time last night, so it must have been around five o’clock. That’s the time my wife always has dinner ready. I was coming down the stairs when I saw Catherine standing near a small table we have near the front door. We have a bowl on the table where we put our keys when we come in the house. Anyway, I noticed Catherine, dressed in running clothes, so I surmised she was going for a run. She ran whenever she could to stay in shape.”
Blake held up his index finger to interrupt and asked, “What did the clothes look like?”
“I’m sure she was wearing a red zipped hoodie, white sweatpants and her white Nikes.”
“Okay, now continue. Tell me what you saw Catherine doing.”
“She already had her cell phone in her hand when she pulled her keys out of the basket and put them both in her pocket. She noticed me and smiled, and then she left out the front door. That’s the last time I saw her.”
“You mentioned a cell phone and keys. What about her purse? Did she carry a purse? If so, where is it?”
“No, she didn’t have her purse. I found it in her bedroom this morning.”
“Mr. Thomas, we’re going to need Catherine’s purse for any bank or credit cards. We can use those to determine if there’s been any activity since she was last seen.”
“Oh, sure. You can have the purse. No problem.”
Blake looked toward Jennifer on the other side of the one-way glass as if he could see her and nodded. That was his way of assigning her the task of getting the purse, then running any credit or bank accounts to see if either had been used recently.
“Thanks. After we finish talking, detective Brennan will drive you and your wife back home. We appreciate you giving the purse to the detective, so she can start tracking any transactions that may have occurred.”
“If it will help you find Catherine, you can have anything in the house.”
“Would you mind if Detective Brennan does a walk-through of Catherine’s room?” asked Blake.
“No, of course not.”
“Where does Catherine usually go when she runs?”
Fred thought for a second, then said, “I think she usually runs at the high school track. Though sometimes she does run in the neighborhood.”
“Has Catherine ever run away or disappeared before? Even for just a day or so?” Blake doubted that Catherine had run away, but it was a question he had to ask so he could rule it out.
“No. Absolutely not. Catherine is a good kid. She calls us if she is running late or going somewhere. Always. Without fail.” Julie responded emphatically.
“Does Catherine have a drug problem?”
Fred exploded. “You can’t be serious! Hasn’t Catherine been waiting on your table at the cafe for a couple of years? Does she look like a druggie to you?!”
“Okay, Mr. Thomas. Calm down. I have to ask the question.”
Blake directed his next question to Julie, who was infinitely calmer than her husband.
“How has Catherine seemed emotionally lately? Upset about anything? Any problems with her friends?”
“No, not really. Most of her college friends are away for the summer, so the only one she really hangs out with is Nicholas Connor. I think the two are getting along. Catherine hasn’t said anything about being upset with anyone.” Julie replied.
“So Nicolas Connor is Catherine’s boyfriend?”
“Yes, they’ve been going together since they met in college. Fred and I think they’ll eventually marry. He’s a nice young man.”
“Who else might have seen her yesterday?”
“Well, she worked her shift at the Sugar Creek Cafe, so her co-workers and anyone eating there would have seen her. I think she worked until three o’clock. She didn’t come home until around five o’clock.”
“What about Nicholas? Have you talked to him about Catherine’s whereabouts?”
“I called him this morning, as soon as Fred told me that Catherine’s bed hadn’t been slept in. Nicholas said he talked to her at the cafe, after he got out of school around four o’clock. He’s a kindergarten teacher at the elementary school. He said that was the last time he saw Catherine.”
“Okay. We’ll talk to Nicholas. I need you to fill out some paperwork that will ask you for very specific information that will help us find Catherine. We need her cell phone company and number; and the make, model, color and year of her car. I also need for you two to think carefully and list anyone that may know where Catherine is, because we need to talk to those people.” Blake paused and looked toward Jennifer through the one-way glass again. “Jennifer Brennan will take you home as soon as you complete the paperwork.”
“Please find her. Catherine is our only child. She’s all we have.” Julie begged, tears dripping down her cheeks.
“I assure you both we’ll do our best to find her.”
***
Jennifer emptied Catherine’s purse on her desk, neatly organizing and inventorying each item. There was a J.C. Penney credit card, VISA card, and a bank debit card. Armed with each account number, Jennifer’s fingers flew over her computer keyboard. She didn’t notice Blake standing in her cubicle until he cleared his throat. He startled her, and she jumped in her seat.
“Damn it, Blake. Can’t you make a little more noise?”
He just shrugged and stared at her computer screen. “So you’re running Catherine’s cards?”
“Yes, I ran the J.C. Penney account first. No changes since last December 23rd when Cathe
rine was probably shopping for Christmas presents. The VISA card was used last month at a Starbucks store in the mall. The bank debit card was used to fill her car with gas yesterday at 3:10 p.m. at a Shell Gas Station on Third Street. That was the last time it was used.”
“I got the cell phone history,” said Blake. “Her last call was at five thirty from Nicholas Connor and lasted less than one minute. The last ping from her phone to a cell tower was near Deer Run State Park one minute later. Nothing since then. It looks like she may have turned her cell off after the call from Nicholas,” said Blake.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Jennifer asked.
“Let’s go have a talk with Nicholas.”
In the parking lot, Blake opened the passenger door of their unmarked car for Jennifer. “Let’s head over to the high school track first. Her dad said she was going running.”
Blake drove and Jennifer scouted the area on the way to the high school. It was Saturday and the March weather was warmer than usual, so there were a lot of young people about. When they reached the track, there were a number people running, but mostly jocks. No sign of Catherine.
Though they’d work together for a couple of years, it was the first time Jennifer had been alone in a car with Blake. She usually rode with her partner, Dick Mason, who was on vacation. Jennifer didn’t know if it was the subtle scent of musk and man, or the way he kept glancing at her that made her senses alert and her heart beat against her ribs. When she didn’t think he was looking, she checked Blake out. His massive shoulders filled the jacket he wore, his thigh muscles strained against his khakis.
Blake had a ruggedly handsome face and dark features that spoke volumes about his Italian heritage. The man was hot. She’d give him that. Actually, she’d give him more than that. He was the first man in five years that she was remotely attracted to. Not that she was going to do anything about it. He was a member of the same investigative team she was. No relationships allowed. Period. It was career suicide for a female in law enforcement, and there was no other job she’d rather do.
