Black Orchid Girls (Detective Amanda Steele) - Page 28

FIFTEEN

Amanda and Trent left the ME’s office at eight thirty. During the time she’d been in the morgue and watching the autopsy, she received a few phone calls. Someone in Tech had left a message to say there was no luck in tracking Chloe’s phone, and she shared that info with Trent. Her favorite caller had been Zoe.

Even standing at a distance watching Rideout take apart a beautiful young woman, Zoe’s voice was able to lift Amanda’s spirits. She’d certainly made the right decision to open her heart to the child.

She couldn’t wait to get home to her. It was horrible enough that she had to get Becky to step in and babysit Zoe tonight. Hopefully Zoe understood why Amanda was away so often.

There was something else Amanda should take care of tonight—making sure Jacob Briggs got the video from the park. Then there was this niggling fear that the killer they were after might have struck before. The experience, the restraint, the organization. She and Trent should be scouring the internet for past cases or even looping in the FBI with their Violent Criminal Apprehension Program, which allowed them to search unsolved crimes.

In short, there was a lot keeping her from home, but one small, precious thing pulling her there. She’d forgotten how tough it could be to balance family with the job. But maybe she didn’t need to carry everything on her shoulders. She did have Trent.

She looked over at him as he drove them back to Central. “I’m wondering if you’d be able to do something tonight before going home.”

“Name it.”

She had to admire his willingness to do whatever it took to solve a case. “I need to get home to Zoe. I want to,” she corrected.

Trent smiled. “I’m sure you do.”

It was like this unspoken conversation between them, but when Amanda had first met Zoe, she’d denied how much the girl meant to her. She had downplayed Zoe as merely an eyewitness in a case Amanda needed to solve, but Trent quickly saw through that false wall.

“Could you follow up with Briggs to make sure he got the video from the park?” Briggs worked nights and was always willing to help when he could.

“Of course. Guess we have our killer’s approximate height from Rideout, but we’re wanting to see if Briggs can gauge the height of the mystery figure?”

“That’s right. Let’s see if both Rideout and Briggs agree on height.”

“I’ll ask Briggs about that. Other than that, we’re hoping he can discern the license plate on the car that dropped off our mystery person, correct?”

“Yep.” Discussing what they needed from Briggs emphasized how long ago it was that they’d first had that conversation. It had been just that morning, though it felt like a day or two ago. She yawned and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Trent laughed. “Not easy being a mom again?”

She hesitated, not sure how to respond. It was absolutely glorious, though it definitely did upend her life. It had caused her to face some cold, hard truths she’d done her best to avoid for years. Namely that her husband and her daughter were never coming back, and it was time to allow herself to open her heart to new people and experiences. “It’s challenging, but one of the most rewarding jobs.”

Trent smiled. “I knew you two would wind up together.”

“Yeah, yeah, you told me so? Zoe was more than just an eyewitness.”

“She’s very lucky she has you.”

Lucky was relative. The only reason Zoe had Amanda was because she’d lost her parents—that hadn’t been lucky. “I’m going to do my best by her.”

“I know it.”

Her chest warmed at his expressed confidence, and her cheeks flushed. She didn’t know when she’d started caring so much about Trent’s opinion of her. “What about you?” The question slipped out, and she wanted to reel it back in.

“What about me, what?” He glanced over at her.

“Ah, do you ever want to be a dad?” She’d already started down this path, might as well keep going.

His mouth twitched, then he burst out a laugh that had her chuckling.

“Me…? A dad? Yeah, no thanks.”

“What? Really? You’ve never thought of it?”

“Oh, I’ve thought of it. It’s just not who I am.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right person.”

He moaned and took the exit ramp off the highway that led them toward the station. “I don’t know if that’s all it is.”

“What about Cassie, the CSI? You guys still hitting it off?” They’d met at the Parkers’ crime scene and gone out a few times.

“More off, but we’re taking things slow.” He looked over at her. “Why the sudden interest?”

She squirmed inside but concentrated on keeping herself perfectly still otherwise. “No interest really. Just making conversation.” Her tone was convincing, and really that’s all it was—making conversation. About kids. “I’m just going to call home, give them an ETA.” She called Becky’s cell phone. She answered in the middle of the first ring.

“I was just starting to wonder where you were.”

“Sorry. Things ran a little long. Zoe still up?”

“Depends on your definition. She’s not in bed, but she’s in her pj’s and zapped out on the couch.”

Amanda smiled. Just the thought of Zoe resting—her blond hair spilled around her head, her soft breathing that bordered on outright snores—warmed her. “I’ll be home in about twenty minutes, if that. I can put her to bed when I get there.”

“Okay. Good thing you called because I was just going to have Brandon carry her there.”

“Glad I called, then. See you soon.” With that, Amanda ended the call.

Trent’s mouth was set in a straight line, brows drawn downward. At the sight of him, her thoughts went dark. The lightness that had been there, infused merely by the thought of seeing Zoe, was squashed.

“Just a feeling you’re thinking this right now, but we need to consider that a serial killer may have done this to Chloe,” she said.

He looked over at her, his grip on the steering wheel tightening, his knuckles showing white as they drove under streetlights.

“The experience, the restraint, the organization,” she said, sharing her earlier thought. “We should see if we can find any similar cases to Chloe’s.”

“Probably a good idea.” Somber, reflective.

Trent parked at Central, and they went their separate ways.

They were going to meet at the station at eight in the morning and go from there. Time to shake the ugliness of the day, the nightmare of homicidal shadows lurking in the darkness. She was going home to the light of her existence, a reward at the end of a hellish hard day.

Tags: Carolyn Arnold Thriller
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