by Liz Johnson
Miranda’s search for an escape route intensified, so Ashley slid forward until she could reach the other woman’s arm with a comforting touch that might just keep her grounded.
“Is there anything else that you remember about Joy? Did she say anything to you about where she’s from or how she got those bruises?”
Miranda continued staring at the ground, refusing to look up even when she answered. “Like I told you then, Joy found me in the office at the plant. She said one of the other women had told her I could get her help. End of story.”
“And did she say who recommended you?”
Matt’s question caught Miranda off guard, and she studied the gloves in her hands, looking for an answer that wasn’t there. “I can’t remember. No, I don’t think she did.”
A muscle in Ashley’s back jumped, pulling her from Miranda’s story. “You said she found you in the office. Did she work at the plant? Had you ever seen her before?”
Now Miranda met her gaze as she twisted the pink gloves beyond recognition. “Look, I want to help you, but I really don’t have time to answer all of your questions. I have to get to work.”
Matt relaxed his stance, suddenly appearing more like a casual San Diego surfer than a highly trained warrior. The muscles beneath his loose jacket were less intimidating with his hands tucked in the pockets of his cargo pants. “Do you usually have to work on Saturdays?”
“Sometimes.”
He nodded, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “I know what you mean. I’m on duty some Saturdays, too.” The way he said it, Ashley pictured him sitting behind the counter of a convenience store, reading a magazine during a slow afternoon shift. Miranda probably thought the same thing.
“I guess we all do what we have to so we can take care of our families.”
Matt’s whole body swayed as he nodded. “Do you have kids, Miranda?”
“A daughter in college.”
“I bet that’s not cheap.”
A flicker of a smile crossed her face and disappeared before Miranda responded; the wall she’d held in place since their arrival was beginning to tip. “It’s not. And I can’t afford to lose my job at the plant.”
Matt rubbed his chin, his fingers rasping over stubble. “I heard the plant is having a hard time. Chief Donal—” Miranda wrinkled her nose “—said it’s been a rough year.”
Had Miranda and the chief had a falling-out? He’d been a friend of her ex-husband, and Miranda and Donal had been linked socially once or twice in the last few years. She didn’t seem too pleased with him now though.
“That’s no secret. A third of the county has been laid off in the last eighteen months. So when my boss tells me to be in on Saturday, that’s where I’ll be.”
“Sounds fair enough.”
“Have a good weekend.” With a curt nod Miranda stalked toward her home and stomped up the steps.
“You get the feeling she’s not telling us everything she knows?”
Ashley pressed her hands to her hips and heaved a sigh that could have carried all the way into the house. “I’m not sure how much she knows, but I’m sure she was lying to us. There’s no way Joy could have gotten into the office at the plant if she didn’t work there. One of the women who stayed with us last year worked at the plant and I went with her to pick up some paperwork for a position transfer. I wasn’t allowed past the front door.”
“And?”
“And I can’t believe I didn’t realize it when she dropped Joy off. I must have been so consumed with getting Joy taken care of. I didn’t ask very many questions. But I think she was making up that story.”
The corner of his mouth rose in a lopsided grin that was becoming more and more familiar. “Pretty smart, Sawyer.” His right eyelid twitched when he said her name, but there wasn’t time to dwell on that. Or the way he’d leaned in to maybe almost kiss her earlier that morning.
First, they had to figure out their next step now that they knew Miranda wouldn’t or couldn’t share anything more about Joy. Her forearms burst out in goose bumps. The weight of someone watching her was almost tangible.
She twisted and turned, searching for any glimpse of someone hiding in the bushes or around a tree, but there was no one else in the yard—at least, no one she could see.
Matt frowned and spun around just like she had. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. It just felt like...” She was just being paranoid. There was no one here. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
He tugged on the passenger door of his truck until it popped and motioned for her to climb in. Just as she grasped the seat to hoist herself into the cab, a slamming door made her jump back to the ground.
“Wait!” Miranda scurried toward them, brushing dirt off her gardening jeans as she arrived. Matt’s face didn’t change, but his posture turned to steel, every nerve on full-alert. But Miranda didn’t notice. She wasn’t looking at him. “Did anything happen to Joy? I mean, is she still safe?”
Ashley squeezed the other woman’s upper arm. “I’m sure she’s fine. I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”
“But she’s not here, right? She’s not in Charity Way?”
Matt shook his head so subtly that she almost missed it. He was right. She couldn’t tell anyone, let alone someone who wasn’t telling all her secrets, where Joy had been placed. If the notes were really because of Joy, then it stood to reason that they might affect Miranda, too. Someone who thought of Joy as his property would use any means necessary to get at her.
Maybe even forcing Miranda to tell what she knew.
It was better for everyone if she didn’t know that Joy had moved into a long-term house two counties over.
“She’s safe. We’ll protect her.”
The we popped out before she even thought about it. When had she started thinking about Matt as her partner in all this? It was fine to have him around. He was handy with the security at the house, and he seemed concerned about her welfare. But partnership had never been something she’d intended to offer.
She’d fought to protect the women at Lil’s by herself for years. Lil was more den mother than mother bear. More listening ear than bared teeth. Ashley was the one who stood up for the shelter and its residents.
The threats. The angry, midnight calls from abusers. The graffiti on her home. The sneers from local business owners more interested in appearances than grace.
She’d dealt with them all on her own. And she’d deal with them on her own when Matt went back to San Diego. No point in thinking they were a long-term team.
Best just to be thankful for his help on this case and prepare to handle the next alone.
No problem.
Miranda’s sigh seemed to come from her entire body, her shoulders relaxing and chin falling in one motion. Her hand slipped into her pocket, and she bent her elbow out from her body. “I wish I could give you something, anything, to help Joy.”
“It’s all right if you don’t know anything.” Ashley bit her lip.
Miranda kept her gaze trained on her once-white sneakers and shook her head. “I can’t tell you anything.” Suddenly her gaze shot up, her eyes filled with the same gray storm clouds as the sky. “I have to go to work. I’m sorry I can’t say more.”
She dashed back toward the house as though a starting pistol had fired.
Ashley hung her head. “Why can’t she say more? She obviously cares about Joy. Why won’t she just tell us who’s looking for her?”
Matt stooped in front of her, then rose with an outstretched hand. “She dropped this. I don’t think it was an accident.”
She snatched the white scrap of paper from between his fingers, turning it over and over. It was thicker than regular paper, but not quite cardboard, with bent corners and a frayed edge along one of the shorter sides
.
“Part of a matchbook?” Matt suggested.
“I think so.” She flipped it over again for good measure. “I can’t remember the last time I saw one of these.”
“What is Miranda not saying with this?” Matt took his turn analyzing the scrap. “And what’s this gold logo?” His callused finger traced the embossed infinity sign on the front.
“I know where that is.”
* * *
Matt placed his arm on the back of the bench seat to look over his shoulder as he backed out of Miranda’s driveway. “So what exactly is this place?”
“It was a bar.” He raised an eyebrow at Ashley, who shrugged. “There was a woman staying at Lil’s more than a year ago, and her ex-boyfriend worked there as a bouncer. It’s about three blocks from your hotel.”
As she turned to face him, her shoulder brushed his fingers, and his breath caught for an instant. Just like it had when he’d helped her down from the truck. When he’d stood close enough to smell her citrus shampoo. When he’d leaned toward her just to feel connected.
When he’d nearly kissed her.
Just before he remembered that she was Tristan’s kid sister.
What had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been. A complete and utter lapse in brain activity was the only explanation for letting her smile twist his gut like that.
Hadn’t Tristan told him time and again that no guy was good enough for Ashley? Especially a guy like Matt, with his string of foster fathers who had taught him plenty about fighting back and fighting hard, but nothing about relationships without bad tempers and heavy fists. No, Tristan would hit the roof if he knew Matt felt anything more than protective instincts for Ashley. Hadn’t he said that he’d shoot first and ask questions later if a man even looked at her with anything less than respect?
But a lack of respect wasn’t really the problem here. He’d never met a woman he respected more than Ashley. What she did with the women at Lil’s was nothing short of incredible. The way she dealt with thugs and losers put his first foster mothers to shame. He’d known only three other women in his life that served others with such grace and grit—his pastor’s wife, his last foster mom and Mrs. Sawyer.
That was probably where Ashley learned it.
None of this meant he needed to act on any impulses. Especially those that involved kissing her.
“Turn right here.” Ashley had turned away from him as he drove through town, her features growing tighter as they passed dilapidated buildings with neon signs and taped-up windows. “It’s at the end of the next block, up there.”
The very last building on the right looked like it should have been condemned. The gray, shuttered walls bowed like a grenade had exploded inside, and the roof sagged along the ridgepole from end to end. Weeds had taken up residence around the front door, obscuring the already tenuous wooden steps.
But the infinity symbol above the door clearly marked this as their target.
“Was it like this when it was open?”
Ashley twisted to look up at the tattered shingles as she worried on her bottom lip. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe you should stay in the truck.” He pulled up to the curb, eyeing the two men drinking from brown paper bags outside the store next door. “I’ll just duck inside the Infinity, and you can stay in here. With the doors locked.”
“Not likely.”
He chuckled as he stepped out of his car. Ashley was on his heels in a moment. She didn’t touch him, but he could feel her body heat on his back through his jacket. If she insisted on joining him, at least she had the good sense to stick close.
He offered her a hand as they approached the steps, and she clung to his forearm when she wobbled on a loose board.
“It’s not too late to go back to the truck.”
“I’m just fine.” Her wrinkled nose and pursed lips weren’t in agreement with her words, but she refused to leave his side.
The front door handle jiggled but stuck and refused to give in when he applied pressure. “Somebody wants you to think he doesn’t give a rip about this place, but that lock is solid.”
“Can you break it down?”
“What do you think I am?”
“Well, excuse me.” She pulled her hand away from his and glowered up at him. She looked tough, but she couldn’t keep her smirk at bay for long. “I thought you were strong enough.”
“Oh, I can break the door in. I’m just not going to.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m okay with entering. Just not with breaking and entering.” Taking caution to avoid the rotted boards on his way down to the curb, he reached out to help her again. This time, instead of taking his arm, she slipped her hand into his. Soft like a flower and warm like sun-drenched sand, it was a perfect fit.
She pulled away as soon as they reached the sidewalk, and he forced himself to focus his thoughts on what might be inside the old bar that Miranda wanted them to see.
He led her through the knee-high grass around the corner of the building and onto another nearly deserted street. All of the buildings along the road seemed to have been forgotten, and there wasn’t a car parked in any of the gravel lots or shrub-filled alleys except for a rusted-out old Buick up on blocks. Signs identifying the businesses had vanished a long time before.
“How long ago did this bar close?”
“Maybe a year?”
He kicked a piece of wood paneling that had fallen from the wall. “It must have been in bad shape even when it was open.”
Ashley shrugged. “This isn’t exactly the best neighborhood.”
That was a serious understatement.
A small window at the back of the building probably led to what had been a second-story stockroom, or maybe an employee break room. After all, bars weren’t known for their natural light in the main areas. At fourteen, he’d dragged his foster dad out of more than one seedy club, and they all had the same thing in common: neon lights and no windows. But when he’d sneak in through the alley doors, he’d often see employees catching fresh air through the break room’s open window.
Maybe that’s how this one had been used.
The bottom of the window frame was at least three feet above his head, and he looked around the ground for something to stand on. “Do you see a cinder block or piece of wood around here? I just need a little lift and I’ll be able to get to the window.”
“Nope. But I’ll do it.”
His eyebrows pinched together, despite her innocent smile. “You’ll do what?”
“Just give me a boost. I’ll see if it’s open, and if it is, I’ll run around and unlock the back door.”
“I’m not sending you in alone before we know who or what’s in there.” He pointed a single finger at the other buildings on the street. “You have no idea who could have taken over this property. Anyway, this is all tied to Joy, which is the reason that someone tried to run you over.” His last word ended in a growl, and she jumped.
Pressing her hands to her hips, she leaned forward like she was talking to a kid. Except she had to tilt her head all the way back to look right into his eyes. “You don’t have to remind me. I know Joy’s in trouble—”
“You, too.”
“—and we’re here to figure out why. Let’s find what Miranda couldn’t tell us. We don’t have time to waste arguing.”
He began to spit back a definitive no, but he stopped short. She was right.
And he hated it.
The driver of the car, the author of the notes and their late-night visitor would be back. They had to figure out who he was before he returned. And this was their only lead.
“Tell you what.” Ashley’s voice had never risen, but her tone turned firm, and it was clear that she expected no argument. “If you’ll
give me a boost, I’ll look around inside. If there’s anything that looks like someone might have moved in, we’ll find another way in. I’ll be careful. I promise.”
He shook his head as he crossed his fingers and bent over to let her step into the cradle. Her fingernails pinched into his shoulders as he cupped her shoe and slowly stood. “You okay?”
“Just fine. Can you get me closer to the wall?”
He stepped toward the building as she walked her hands up the siding. The top of her head just reached the bottom of the glass. She gave it a shove, but nothing happened.
“Can you get me a little higher?” When he boosted her to his shoulder level, she pushed on the glass again, and it creaked open about three inches. She ducked to peer through the opening. “Empty shelves. Dust everywhere, even on the floor. No one’s been walking through here anytime in the last several months.”
The window groaned as she lifted it open farther. “I’m going in.”
SIX
Matt knew he should go around to the back door to meet her, but he couldn’t walk away until he knew she was safe in the room. If she screamed or called out for him, then he’d find a way to get to her.
As he paced the width of the window, Ashley shrieked, just seconds after landing in the room. She sounded more startled than scared, but it was more than enough to galvanize him into action. Without another thought, he flew at the open window.
Matt cracked the window frame when his elbow slammed against it, but he didn’t feel a thing as he wedged through the narrow opening. Instinct and years of training took over as he curled into a ball and rolled across the floor.
As he spun, he made out Ashley’s form to his left, sitting on the floor and backed up against the battered shelves. Her knees were tucked up nearly to her chin. Eyes bigger and bluer than ever as she trembled.
Taking his gaze off her for a moment, he scanned the rest of the room. The rest of the empty room.
“What...” he started to ask, his voice trailing off.
“That,” Ashley answered.
He followed the line of her finger to the wall next to the door and saw a rat that looked like it would be more at home in the New York City sewer system than little Charity Way. Its ears turned toward them as its hind end swayed back and forth on squat legs.
