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"And get angry. And judge. And lecture me."
"No anger or judgment or lectures," he said, using his hand at my hip to turn me so I was against his chest, and wrapping me up tight. "Just an ear."
And, well, that just melted what was left of my puny defenses.
"My sister is missing," I said aloud for the first time ever.
Against me, I could feel him stiffen and his hold loosened slightly so he could push me back and look down at me. "Your sister is missing?"
I felt myself nod tightly. "Not officially seeing as there is no report of it."
"Why not?"
"Because my father is convinced she's not missing. She... was being off for a long time before she disappeared. She was secretive and distant. She and I used to be best friends, then suddenly, she was like a stranger. And then she was gone. But she cashed out her trust fund first. Everything else, though, was left. Her house, her car, all her jewelry and clothes and, God, even her freaking parrot..."
"Her parrot," he repeated when I trailed off.
"He's fine. Living large in a bird sanctuary in Florida thanks to a nice donation from my father. But she left him. In his cage. For God knew how long. There was no food or water left when I finally went over to check on her when she hadn't returned my calls for three days. She never would have just... left him to starve to death in her empty house. No way."
"So why haven't you filed a report if you're convinced she's missing?"
"The detective I talked to agreed with my father. He said to give it a few weeks to see if she just got a wild hair and took off to Boca with a new guy or something."
"Was she a big dater?"
I felt the side of my lips turn up. "I tried that angle. She wasn't exactly a relationship girl. She had men in and out of her life, but no one serious. I couldn't see her just taking off with a guy. Not by choice anyway."
He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead in an offhand way that made my belly flip flop with the casual intimacy of it all. "Why are you working the Third Street angle?"
My hands went up, squeezing his sides and pushing until he let me go. I moved out into the living room, clicking the hidden latch inside the fireplace that unlocked the picture beside it and pulled it open to reveal the safe.
"Ain't looking," he said as I turned to check, his words of caution definitely making me more cautious about my codes.
I punched in the code and pulled the safe open, reaching inside and pulling out the small jewel-encrusted jewelry box that belonged to my sister, and holding it out toward Paine.
His brows drew together as he took it, pulling off the top. His breath hissed out of his mouth as he grabbed one of the small baggies and pulled it out. There were at least a dozen of them inside, clear zip-lock drug bags with a large blue three printed on the front and a fluffy brownish powder inside it. "She was using heroin," he surmised, putting the baggie back, but not handing it back to me.
"Seems the most likely explanation. Why else would she have drugs hidden in her bedroom? It also explains her weird behavior for the weeks before she went missing. I've never really known anyone on drugs; I didn't know what to look for, so I didn't see it."
"It happens," he shrugged. "Can't beat yourself up about it. So you thought... what? She cashed in her trust to buy more drugs?"
"Maybe."
"Babygirl, H is cheap. I don't know, and don't need to know, what was in her trust, but no way did she need to cash it all out to fund her drug habit."
"Maybe she got herself... involved with one of the guys in the gang. Maybe he got her trust, conned her into giving him the money? I mean... why all of a sudden can a measly street gang afford a huge warehouse like the one on Kennedy?"
"Got a point," he said. When I reached for the jewelry box, he shook his head and pulled it back. "I have to get rid of this, Elsie. You can't keep drugs in your house. Or evidence like the baggies even if you flushed the H."
Well, that was true enough. I felt uncomfortable having it in my house, even locked up in the safe. "Okay."
"Are you worried your sister is dead?" he asked bluntly, making me start.
I reached up and ran a hand through my hair. "I don't know. Maybe. I guess I'm kind of hoping she's just holed up with some gang banger, too in love or too high, or both, to care about her old life."
