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  “She was a kidnapping victim, Lieutenant. No need to dance around that, but I agree. He’s been sloppier tonight. His emotions are getting the better of him.”

  “Emotions? I didn’t think he had any,” Nick said.

  “Sure he does. All the dark ones—hate, anger, malice,” Gretchen replied.

  “Those and the need for revenge. Quinn is on the scent. We’re going to see what we can find.” Justin gave the command and Quinn darted forward, nearly flying down the center of the street.

  Justin raced after him.

  Leaving Nick and his K-9 to their work, Gretchen followed, adrenaline pumping through her, thoughts focused. All her worries about Justin were gone. There was nothing in her head right now but the mission and the goal: find Boyd Sullivan and take him into custody.

  They searched for hours, working their way from one street to the next. When Quinn lost the trail, they worked a grid pattern, covering several miles of the business district before heading into the residential area.

  But the trail had gone cold, and finally Justin called Quinn to heel.

  Gretchen didn’t plan to admit it, but she was glad. Her arm had been throbbing for hours, the pain intensifying as the night wore on.

  “We’d better call it,” Justin said wearily. “He’s slipped through our fingers again.”

  “Tomorrow is a new day,” she replied, too tired to think of anything profound or uplifting. She was disappointed, too. They’d been close to capturing Boyd in the cabin. Maybe closer than anyone had ever been.

  “It is tomorrow,” he responded. “The sun will be up in a couple of hours. How about we go back to headquarters, file our report and get a couple of hours’ sleep?”

  She nodded, then thought better of it. “Unless you think we missed something at the cabin or at your place. A clue that will lead us to his hiding place.”

  “The evidence team is exceptional. If there was something to find, they’d have found it.” They’d reached the street where Boyd had abandoned his car. It was quiet now. No sign of Nick and Annie. No sign of Boyd’s vehicle.

  “Looks like they’ve already impounded the Dodge,” she commented as they reached Justin’s SUV.

  “The team is trying to process evidence quickly and thoroughly. We’re all hoping something was missed during the initial search.”

  “Like what? A map with an X marking Boyd’s hideout?”

  Justin grinned, his face softening with amusement as he opened the hatch and let Quinn jump in. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

  “It would be,” she replied, sliding into the passenger seat, her cheeks hot for reasons she refused to acknowledge. It wasn’t a crime to notice Justin’s smile, how handsome it made him, and there was nothing criminal about thinking he should do it more often.

  “What’s the plan? Aside from both of us getting a few hours of sleep?” she asked, determined to keep the conversation flowing. No more awkward silences. No more unspoken thoughts. They’d been working together for months, and there’d never been any of that before.

  Nothing had changed.

  Nothing was going to change.

  She’d make sure of it.

  “Both of us staying alive.” He started the engine and pulled into the road.

  “Good plan, Captain. Now, how about we go into the details of how that’s going to happen?”

  “You could go back to Minot,” he suggested, and that was enough to chase any thought about his smile out of her head.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. I’m not,” he said.

  “I can’t cut my training short,” she replied.

  “I can speak to your commanding officer. I’m sure your safety is his priority.”

  “His priority is launching a K-9 MP team on base. My safety, like the safety of every airman under his command, is a matter of God’s grace and my ability to do my job well.” The words were stiff, but she managed to keep emotion from her voice.

  “You’re angry,” he guessed. “And that wasn’t my intention.”

  “Of course I am. You’ve seen me work. You know I’m good at my job. Yet, somehow, you don’t think I’m capable of helping you solve the Red Rose Killer case.”

  “We’re not solving anything.” He pulled into the parking lot at headquarters and parked his vehicle close to the front door. “We’re chasing a killer. One who would put a bullet in your head as quickly as he would mine.”

  “And?”

  “I want you out of here, Gretchen.” He turned off the engine and turned to face her. “Not because you’re not capable. Because Boyd will hurt anyone he thinks matters to me.”

  “We’re work partners. Not—”

  He raised his hand, cutting off the words.

  “The truth isn’t going to matter to Boyd, and I’m not willing to lose another partner. I want you to go back to your assignment in Minot. I’ll tell your commanding officer that I’ve taught you everything I can.”

  “Lose another partner? What does that mean?” she asked, and he tensed.

  “It’s not open for discussion.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up,” she pointed out.

  “And now I’m shutting it down.”

  “You know that I can find out, right? Easily.”

  “Why would you want to?”

  “Because you’re trying to send me back to Minot before I finish my assignment here, and I want to know why.”

  “I’m not trying to send you anywhere. I’m making a suggestion. For your safety.”

  “You mentioned speaking to my commanding officer,” she retorted, frustrated and unable to hide it. “I’m not Portia. I don’t need your protection.”

  “I am very aware of that,” he muttered.

  “Then stop trying to keep me from doing my job.”

  “Your only job here was to learn. You’ve done that.” He climbed out of the SUV and released Quinn from his crate.

  She thought the conversation was over, that her frustration would continue to simmer. Good. She shouldn’t like Justin as much as he did. She needed to start viewing him in the light of his flaws rather than his strengths. But that went against the grain. She liked to find the good in people and focus on that, but it was for the best.

  “This isn’t something I talk about often,” he said as he hooked Quinn to his leash, “but you have a right to know since it’s impacting our relationship.”

  We don’t have a relationship, she almost said, because she wanted to remind them both of that.

  She kept her mouth shut. Something any of her four brothers would have been surprised by. She wasn’t known for keeping her thoughts to herself. She’d been raised to speak the truth, and she’d found her bluntness to be an asset in the military where she seemed to be in a constant battle to prove herself to her male counterparts.

  “My first partner was killed in the line of duty,” Justin continued. “We’d been working together for four years. Corbin trained me. He mentored me. I spent holidays at his place, and his family became mine. His wife was like the sister I never had. His kids were like nieces and nephews. And Corbin was my brother. In every way that mattered.”

  “Justin, you really don’t have to tell me this,” she said, because she knew where this was going. She knew how the story would end, and she could already feel her heart breaking for Justin and for the family Corbin had left behind.

  “You asked, Gretchen, so I’m going to tell you. Corbin and I responded to a domestic violence call. The airman who was involved had a son who played football with Corbin’s oldest son. He and Corbin had seen each other at sporting events. They’d talked a few times.”

  “Corbin thought he wasn’t violent?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never figured it out. He got out of the car and was heading for the front door before we’d discuss
ed any kind of strategy. He rang the doorbell, and the suspect fired on him through the door.”

  “I’m sorry, Justin,” she said, her voice breaking on his name.

  She hated that sound of weakness, hated that he’d heard it.

  The last thing she wanted him to do was view her as weak or emotional. She’d worked hard to attain a reputation for being tough, reasonable and strong.

  He studied her face, his light-colored eyes nearly glowing in the exterior building lights. He had chiseled features and a strong physique, but she’d seen the softness in his face when he looked at his daughter. And when he smiled.

  “I’m not going to cry, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she managed to say in her best annoyed-younger-sister voice.

  She didn’t feel like his younger sister, though, and maybe that was the problem. She’d begun to see him as a man rather than an air force captain.

  “Everyone cries, Gretchen. Even the most hardened soldier. But I didn’t give you the information to make you sad. I didn’t give it to you to make you sorry. I gave it to you because I want you to understand my position. I spent years after Corbin’s death asking myself if I could have saved him, wondering if I could have prevented his death by walking to the door ahead of him or insisting that we go around the back of the property.”

  “You couldn’t have,” she said.

  “At this point, it doesn’t matter. What matters is making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

  “I’m not Corbin, Justin. And I’m not planning on dying. If I do, it won’t be your fault. I’m glad you shared the story. It does help me understand, but it doesn’t change anything. I still plan to stay for the entirety of my temporary orders. I’m going to start our report. See you inside.”

  She strode across the parking lot, telling herself that nothing had changed between them. She knew it was a lie.

  Personal stories were great. She’d shared lots of them with coworkers, but the story Justin had told was one that defined him. It had been a catalyst that had shaped and changed the airman he’d been into the captain he’d become.

  He didn’t have to say that for her to understand it. She’d heard the pain and regret in his voice, and she’d understood just how deeply the grief and guilt had gone. She’d struggled with the same since Henry’s death. She’d gone to a therapist, who’d told her that holding on to guilt wouldn’t bring Henry back and would only stunt her ability to be in other fulfilling relationships. Gretchen still hadn’t been able to let go.

  Deep in her heart, she believed that a person should always be able to save the people she loved. Even knowing in her head that it wasn’t true couldn’t change the way she felt.

  She opened the door and stepped into headquarters, her heart heavy. She’d wanted to do more than tell Justin she was sorry. She’d wanted to explain that she understood. That she lived with the same guilt and the same regret, but they were getting dangerously close to crossing boundaries they shouldn’t.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

  She liked Justin. A lot. She respected him.

  And hearing his story? It had made her feel close to him in a way she hadn’t before.

  “Gretchen!” someone called.

  She turned and was surprised to see the base nutritionist, Yvette Crenville, standing in the cafeteria doorway.

  “Yvette! What are you doing here?” she asked.

  Yvette smiled. Tall, with blond hair and delicate features, she was as pretty as she was sweet.

  “I work here.”

  “Not at this time of day.”

  “I heard there’d been another Boyd sighting, and I figured you’d all be out working. I wanted to make sure you had nutritious snacks when you returned. I made dark chocolate oatmeal bars. Interested?”

  “You said the word chocolate, so I’m definitely in.”

  Yvette giggled. “Good. Great. I set up a table. There are a few different types of juices, too. Coffee, if you must. Decaf if you want to sleep.”

  “It sounds like you thought of everything.”

  “I try.” She glanced toward the exterior door. “Did you find him?” she whispered.

  “Boyd?”

  “Who else?”

  “Not yet.”

  Yvette’s face fell, and she rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s too bad. I was really hopeful that this nightmare was finally going to end.”

  “I think we all were.”

  “Captain Blackwood more than any of us, I’m sure. I heard Boyd kidnapped his daughter.”

  “He did,” Gretchen responded. Yvette worked at headquarters, creating and prepping nutritional meals. She wasn’t part of the team that had been going after Boyd, but she was apparently one of his targets. She’d dated him during basic training and publicly broken up with him. Months ago, she’d received a red rose. Since then, she’d been cautious and nervous.

  “Wow! That poor girl. She’s just a kid. You’d think Boyd would find it in his heart to leave her alone.”

  “I’m not sure Boyd has a heart,” Gretchen said.

  Yvette tensed, her angelic features suddenly pinched and tight. “Everyone has a heart.”

  “It was a joke, Yvette. Not meant to be taken literally.”

  “Right. Sorry.” Yvette rubbed the back of her neck again and smiled sheepishly. “My parents always told me I was much too literal. I do understand what you’re saying. Boyd is rotten to the core. I can’t believe I dated him during basic training. He was a total dud. The kind of guy that only wants to be with someone he can use.” There was a hint of venom in her voice.

  She didn’t look angry, though.

  She looked sweet and placid and eager to please.

  Gretchen wasn’t buying the facade. She’d met people who really were as sweet and kind as they seemed, but something about Yvette rubbed her the wrong way. Maybe it was how she seemed to show up every time the Red Rose Killer case heated up. Maybe it was the subtle changes in her facial expression when she was talking about Boyd.

  The two had dated.

  According to people who’d been there, Yvette had made a show of breaking up, but that didn’t mean her feelings for Boyd had died. A couple of months ago, Gretchen and another team member, nurse Vanessa Gomez, had followed Yvette, watching her every move, trying to see if she and Boyd were together.

  They’d found nothing out of the ordinary.

  Yvette did what everyone did—shopped, went to work, went to the gym, went to church. No secret side trips into the woods. No suspicious excursions off base. No packages delivered to her house or tossed into Dumpsters. Nothing that would indicate she was aiding and abetting a criminal.

  But looks could be deceiving, and Gretchen wasn’t convinced Yvette was as innocent as she appeared to be. Since she had nothing but her gut to go on, she’d been keeping quiet and staying alert. Eventually, every criminal made a mistake. If Yvette were somehow aiding Boyd, she’d be found out.

  “What?” Yvette asked, smoothing her hair and swiping at her cheek. “You’re staring at me like I have something on my face.”

  “No. I was just thinking about your relationship with Boyd.”

  “That was a long time ago.” Yvette laughed nervously. “It was destined to fail from the beginning. He loved fast food.” She shuddered. “Who would put junk like that into his body?”

  “I might,” Gretchen responded honestly.

  “Oh! I hope not. I know you’re not thirty yet, but you know what happens to women when they reach that age, right? The metabolism slows, fat starts to build up, the thyroid begins to struggle. What you want to be doing is detoxing every first week of the month. Follow that with the eighty-twenty approach to eating. You remember that, right?”

  How could she forget? Yvette mentioned it every time she saw Gretchen with anything that smacked of unhealthy
. “Yes. I do.”

  “I can go over it with you again, Gretchen. What we put into our bodies is so important to our health.”

  The exterior door opened, and Justin entered the building with Quinn.

  “There’s Justin... I mean, Captain Blackwood. I’d better run,” Gretchen said, turning on her heel and nearly flying back down the hall.

  Justin saw her coming and offered a quick smile that made her heart skip a beat.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, his gaze shifting to Yvette and then back to Gretchen.

  “We were talking about the eighty-twenty eating plan and detox,” she whispered.

  “Poor you,” he said in a rumble of laughter.

  “You don’t know the half of it. I seem to be her favorite target. Last week, she cornered me two times to tell me that healthy eating was imperative as I reach middle age.”

  “Middle age? You’re nowhere near middle age!”

  “Maybe you should tell her that,” she murmured, glancing over her shoulder. Yvette was still at the cafeteria door, smiling in their direction.

  “I made dark chocolate oatmeal squares, Captain Blackwood,” she called. “I’ve set up a nice snack table for your officers. Make sure you get something to eat. It looks like you’ve had a long night.”

  “Thanks, Yvette. I’ll do that,” he said.

  He touched Gretchen’s shoulder. “Ready?”

  “Sure,” she replied, allowing him to steer her back toward Yvette.

  She could feel the warmth of his fingers through her shirt. Could feel the way her heart responded to his light touch. She could have moved away. Maybe she should have, but it had been a long day, a long few months. Really, it had been a long few years, and it felt nice to have Justin’s hand on her shoulder.

  She let it stay while they walked past Yvette and entered the cafeteria. A few MPs were there, milling around a table set with trays of cookie bars and pitchers of juice.

  One of the MPs glanced their way, his gaze going to Justin’s hand before shifting to Gretchen’s bandaged arm. Finally, his attention drifted away, and he grabbed a cookie, munching it while he talked to one of his buddies.