Aftermath

by Rachel Trautmiller

  “Watch out for those nerds.” A bit of sass lingered beneath words meant to come off as bored-with-this-conversation. Idiot that he was, a tendril of hope sprung in his chest. One he knew better than to let spread.

  Amanda still hadn’t stepped aside. Hadn’t offered to let him pass.

  Would he have to force his way inside? Maybe.

  Young life. In need of saving.

  A loud crash drew her attention to something inside the apartment. She twirled toward it, her movements quick and a little panicked. An expletive came from her mouth.

  What in the world? Robinson stepped inside and shut the door.

  “How did you get up there?” Amanda reached the counter, which separated the kitchen from the living room. A laptop was at her feet. Two barstools were pulled together, creating a ladder of sorts. A glass bowl balanced on the edge of the eating surface. She pushed it back and extended her arms toward the cabinets above her. One door was open as Riley Bening scrambled on top of the compartment.

  “Alright, sweetie. Let’s get you down before your mom kills me.”

  Riley had a grin on her face as she crawled forward on hands and knees, between the cabinets and the ceiling. Oblivious to the end of the structure. And the plunge to the island and hard floor beneath. The toddler scurried across the shelves as if this were a game. Two more inches...

  His heart launched into his throat.

  Amanda hoisted one leg on the Formica surface. Robinson stepped forward and half push-lifted her upward. If one hand on her waist, the other on the nicest backside he’d ever had the pleasure to touch, bothered her, she didn’t show it. Instead, she centered herself on the counter. Hunched below the ceiling. And reached for the child.

  Riley squashed herself into the corner of the wall. Shook her blonde head as if Amanda were messing up her groove.

  “Come on, honey. I want to live another day. So do you.” She placed one hand on the toddler’s arm, the other scooping under the opposite armpit. Pulled her off the perch and hugged her. A cry erupted from the little girl, who arched her back and squirmed toward her previous playhouse. Each movement threw Amanda’s balance off-kilter.

  “Careful.” The words left his mouth, full of worry.

  She flashed him a quick glare. Then her attention returned to the girl. “Hold still. We’ll get down and—”

  The toddler kicked out. Amanda’s hold loosened. Riley started to fall. The older woman retained a grip on her arm. Attempted to regain a hold around the child’s torso. The motion caused her to step to the left. Into the glass bowl she’d moved earlier.

  And then they were both going down.

  He moved into their path. Grabbed Amanda’s middle as she collided with his shoulder. The force unsteadied him and sent him backward. He shifted to avoid landing on both girls. His shoulder hit the corner of an end table, something sharp ripping into his skin. And then they met the floor. The impact stole most of the air from his lungs.

  Terror took the rest.

  Nobody stirred, the heavy pound of his heart lodged in his ears. And then the spit and vinegar version of both Jordan and McKenna sat up in Amanda’s arms and grinned. “Again!” The toddler stood, one fist in the air.

  “No.” Their voices melded into one.

  Amanda’s gaze connected with his and a puff of air left her lips. That awareness—a heightened sense of touch and smell combined with the heady rush of desire he only experienced with this woman—stretched between them. If he could grab ahold of it and reel her in forever, he would.

  Those gorgeous amber orbs scanned his head. Noted the table he’d crashed into. “You hurt?”

  Yes. Everywhere. Bleeding out. “What do you think I am? A wimpy girl?”

  A genuine smile lit her lips. The first one he’d seen since the wedding. And he owed it to a one-and-a-half-year-old. He’d have to thank the kid later. After he got his heart back into a normal rhythm. Made sure he hadn’t pissed himself.

  “How about you?” He asked.

  “A girl, but not wimpy.”

  Now, it was his turn to grin. The motion was foreign. Had he been without humor as long as Amanda?

  An image of New Year’s forced its way into his mind. Two months of broken communication and an official letter from the state of North Carolina had forced him to corner her inside the house of a friend, during a celebration they should have been enjoying together.

  He’d seen the shadows under her eyes. The way her smile never added a sparkle. Watched her almost passionless work ethic. In that moment, the woman he loved was gone. Stripped away by an event neither of them could control.

  He’d meant to hold her. Let her know he understood all those emotions, because they lurked beneath his skin. He didn’t have the luxury of embodying them. Not with his sister and niece to care for.

  Instead of careful words, ones that would let her know she wasn’t alone, he’d drawn her into a darkened spare bedroom.

  The bond they had was special, right down to her sassy quips and his jerk-like qualities. Losing that was a crime. It was a sin.

  The rest was his own doing.

  Riley appeared with an orange book. Plopped it on his chest, right in front of Amanda’s head. “Peas.” The child’s face lit up as she drew out the word. Neither adult moved. Excitement quickly changed to frustration. “Peas.”

  Amanda let out a bark of laughter that sent vibrations into his side. Poor schmuck that he was, the sound filled his head and landed in the organ in his chest. The one that didn’t operate well without this woman.

  He’d do more than thank the kid. He’d buy her a pony. Or a car. A drum set.

  “Very bossy. Just like your mommy.” Amanda sat up. “Do you want to read?”

  The child nodded once. “’Kay.” She ran to the couch, hoisted herself on it and sat. Little legs kicked to some inaudible tune. Then she wiggled from the space and swiped another book. Started reading in complete toddler gibberish.

  “I’m getting too old for this.” He sat up. Brought a hand to the sting in one shoulder blade. His other moved the reading material aside.

  She stood. Offered a hand. “Rescuing me or lying on the hard floor?”

  “Both.” He clasped her fingers, a charge of electricity traveling up his arm as he stood. Did she still feel it, too?

  “So, I should find a new hero?” A hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. She didn’t drop his hand.

  Heck, no. “Every hero must retire. I’m a hard act to follow, so I’d start the interview process ASAP.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the advice.”

  If he’d known championing over a short fall with precious cargo was what it took to break the ice between them, he’d have hired Miss Riley Bening to act as liaison much sooner.

  Figures. The little urchin was bound to be a meddling guru by age two. He was surprised she wasn’t wielding a gun and shouting orders already.

  As if Amanda realized they were touching and talking, she pulled her hand from his. Picked up the laptop at her feet. Set it on the counter. Then she tucked a lock of hair behind one ear. And fiddled with the device in front of her. Avoided eye contact with him.

  Baby steps.

  She hadn’t kicked him out. That was a plus. “Where’s McKenna, anyway?”

  “She ran to the store. She might have mentioned her daughter possessed crazy, death-defying skills.” Amanda turned in his direction, then, and every fleck of brown in her irises zeroed in on him.

  An instant hum traveled through his bloodstream. He hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be on the other end of her full attention. He’d merely been going through a severe Amanda drought and it had frazzled his brain to the point of no return.

  Not to mention other organs.

  As if she knew the way of his thoughts, she tucked her bottom lip inward for a second. “Thanks for breaking our fall.”

  “Anytime, A.J.” He’d spent the better part of his career stuck in less than stellar situations with this
woman. Been injured. Rescued victims. Arrested criminals. Trading moments wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t change a thing.

  Except...

  “So, you need a favor? Official or unofficial?” She shifted one of the stools and then sat at the island. As if the last two years hadn’t happened. And he was still one pesky G-man she couldn’t shake. Not the love of her life she’d found during a stressful and life-altering period in time.

  He sucked in a slow breath.

  Sudden nervousness had him fumbling for words. And a place to put his hands. So, he trudged to her side and sat next to her. Close enough to touch her. Breathe in a hint of wild flowers. Press his lips to hers.

  He cleared his throat.

  When it came to Amanda, he was insane. He’d proved that on several occasions and kept trying to outdo himself. One of these days he’d get it right.

  Or fail in the most miserable way possible.

  “Official.” Once upon a time he could have expected her to leap at either chance. Saving a life trumped everything for this woman. “Or it will be soon.”

  Thanks to Internal Affairs, she was already shaking her head. Didn’t matter that she’d come out of the ordeal squeaky-clean. That there’d never been a solid reason to move forward with it, but rules were there for a reason. And as a formality, the state had elected to cross-check Amanda ten ways to Sunday.

  For all the world to see.

  The well of frustration was back in his gut as fresh as when the investigation into a string of bombings had started. While she’d aided them in catching the serial bomber two Christmases ago, she hadn’t been the same since.

  He hadn’t been the same either.

  There was absolutely nothing he could do about it. Couldn’t hit a magical revert button, talk sense into the government or even his—Amanda. It scared the spit out of him. Had served as a giant monster in the room between them, at times.

  “Three little girls need our help. All I need is an extra set of hands. Detective Brink is useless. And Jonas seems to think—”

  “Jonas?” At the mention of the SBI agent who’d helped them with several cases, her eyebrows slammed together. “I thought he went back to Boone.”

  “He did. A fourteen-year-old went missing from her home in broad daylight. One minute she was in her room, the next vanished. Local law enforcement brought in search teams. The family has a creek in their backyard. They scoured it with no results. None of the girl’s friends report talking to or seeing her in the twenty-four hours prior to her disappearance.”

  Amanda flicked a glance at Riley, still jabbering into a colorful depiction of a cat. “Let me guess. This happened in Boone.”

  He nodded.

  “What’s her name?”

  Every other investigator he’d presented with the details asked a million questions about the facts. Rapid fire. Forced entry. Internet contacts. Club interests. It was the only way to figure out if what Robinson and Jonas had was worthy of more attention.

  Connected to the letter, in his jacket that only two people knew about.

  They were all important. Every face.

  Besides himself, Amanda was the only one who’d asked for a name before everything else. Like him, she wanted more than bland facts. A picture of who this girl was, beyond her victimized status.

  And, like every time they’d ever worked together, he couldn’t help the swell of pride.

  “Kimberly Rose. Red hair. Five-six. One-hundred-twenty pounds. Likes horses, gymnastics and dance. Honor roll student. Never been in any trouble. She’s the oldest of three girls.”

  Amanda grabbed a notepad and pen from the other end of the counter. Jotted something in the neat script he’d seen innumerous times over the years. In case notes, amongst others. The bit of sparkle on her left hand caught his eye.

  No. Way. He blinked. Brought her back into focus with no change.

  His ring attached to a swollen and red looking finger.

  What the…?

  Her gaze followed his line of view, then bounced back to him. Panic blossomed in the depths. She used the appendage to tuck her hair behind one ear, and then kept it out of sight. “Do they share a bedroom?” As if there were no deeper issues between them, her voice was steady.

  While it frustrated the heck out of him, he had to give her mad props. Fine. He could follow her lead.

  He gave a slow shake of his head. Willed his heart to slow a fraction. They were talking, so he’d cling to that a moment. Give himself some time to figure out his next move.

  “The younger two bunk together. They’re twelve and ten. Mom says the teen needed her own space.”

  Amanda swallowed and turned her attention to the notepad. “Bedroom on the second floor?”

  He blew out a breath. “Yup.”

  She scribbled something in the margin of the notebook. “Where were the other children when this happened?”

  “Outside. Playing in the family’s tree house. In the front yard.”

  Her pen paused, mid-sentence. That warm gaze met his, again. Competent. Her eyebrows merged together. “Two young girls playing in the front yard and he goes after the harder target, in a bedroom?”

  It didn’t make sense. “We already checked into the parents. They came back clean. Have lived in Boone since getting married. Model citizens. Active in community outreach and their children’s programs.”

  “How does Jonas fit in?”

  “Local law enforcement is limited. It’s a small town. The family knows him well. Requested his presence.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  OF COURSE THE SBI agent’s presence had been requested.

  The man was an enigma everybody wanted on their side. Pair Jonas with Robinson and you had a formidable team willing to disassemble even the trickiest puzzle, danger notwithstanding.

  In the past, Amanda would have joined their ranks without a second thought. Found whatever evidence needed to form a task force or open a case. Forgone food and sleep to see that end.

  Kept the two of them in line. And out of trouble. Or ridden into the thick of it, right alongside them.

  She clenched her hand beneath the counter. Came in contact with tender flesh. The questions hadn’t disappeared from Robinson’s face. And, if she knew him at all, they wouldn’t stay hidden long. Not a chance.

  Should have stayed in bed.

  Everything was different. And taking what Robinson was offering—the closest to normal she’d seen in months she was tired of counting—wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t bring back lost lives. Fix skewed views. Forgive old hurts.

  It certainly wouldn’t make her boss happy. The man had never come off his high risk analysis on the life of Amanda Nettles. Even toeing a tight line didn’t help. There was always something she’d done that wasn’t quite how he would’ve seen it accomplished.

  With the government threatening cutbacks and the ever watchful eye of Internal Affairs, the man had more reason to keep a tight leash on his precinct. After the last few years, she couldn’t blame him. Didn’t mean she liked the studded collar he’d picked out.

  Or the weekly accountability meetings. As if she were an alcoholic in danger of ditching sobriety.

  “Homicide is a far cry from kidnapping. At least, at first glance and in most cases. And while our unit deals with missing persons cases, Kimberly’s disappearance isn’t even in my jurisdiction.”

  The sentence coated her mouth in bitterness. Maybe she’d add this to her next meeting with her boss.

  Told missing girl, out of jurisdiction, to screw off. Accountability. Check. Heartlessness. Gaining foothold.

  Something hard glinted in Robinson’s blue eyes, the flecks of green forming intense bursts of the color. His lips pressed together a second. “I gotta tell you, those words sound like pure bull. Especially, coming from you.”

  She straightened. Held back a burst of words bordering on this side of the truth. He was right. And, right now, there wasn’t much she could do about it. Not without mak
ing everything worse. Personally. Professionally. Mentally.

  “Death is just a knife or bullet away.”

  After torture, human trafficking or any number of scenarios. She wouldn’t wish that on her enemy, much less a teenager. Couldn’t hurt to hear him out. Worst case scenario, he left angry. Best case, she gave him ideas he could use to get a head start on this thing.

  But she couldn’t, under any circumstances, help him find these girls incognito. There was too much at stake.

  Wasn’t a life worth it? A teenage life. An image of Ariana popped into her mind, scared, alone and believing someone would find her. She took a deep breath as she envisioned herself shrugging and shaking her head.

  Sorry, honey. You’re not my problem.

  Never gonna happen. “You said there were three.”

  MCKENNA BENING APPROACHING.

  Crap. Amanda glanced at the door. Her best friend wouldn’t knock. Wouldn’t hold back questions when she saw Robinson perched on the stool next to her. Like old times.

  It shouted the makings of a disaster she might not survive. Not if McKenna got some obnoxious, mega-plan in her brain. Operation Amanda-Robinson had already failed, but this moment was...nice.

  He wasn’t pushing her for answers she didn’t have. And she wasn’t retaliating with actions that had consequences far beyond herself.

  They didn’t need a well-meaning friend to turn it into a high-school-set-up escapade.

  “You go, ’Kay.” Riley had Amanda’s cordless phone shoved against her ear, a full-fledged conversation in progress.

  Hadn’t she left it on the counter before McKenna had arrived?

  “That thing is creepy.” Robinson’s gaze flicked from the toddler to AtEase.

  Amanda shrugged. “You get used to it. If you used Addie the way you should...”

  “Yeah, yeah.” He held up a hand. “I assume we are withholding the cabinet incident?” That soft drawl tugged on her senses. Nice didn’t sum this up. Casual conversation mixed with collaboration was a pretty good aphrodisiac.