“Dramamine and Oxycodone for the back injury that would explain yer early retirement,” Aidan said as he leaned back against the window.
“Dramamine and Oxycodone for my back injury,” Shayne said, only to add, “I don’t handle motion sickness well, lass. My back started acting up on the plane, I took the pills too close together on the way ta see my brother and had a bad reaction. I don’t remember much before ye found me in the ER.”
“You really expect me to believe that?” Ashlyn asked, never taking her eyes off him as she reached over and helped herself to another sugar packet.
“Believe what ye want, lass,” Shayne said, shrugging it off as he watched her think it over for a minute.
“Is Tristan really your brother?” Ashlyn asked, ripping the sugar packet open and slowly poured it in her coffee, all while she watched him, looking for any sign that he was lying to her.
“Aye, and I have the DNA test ta prove it,” Shayne said, still wondering how they’d managed to pull that off. He-
“We didn’t swap out the results,” Aidan said, taking him by surprise.
“I’m not crazy, lass, and I’m not here ta cause ye problems. I’m trying ta help my brother on a case that doesn’t make sense, but one that I know ye shouldn’t be anywhere near alone,” Shayne explained as their food was placed in front of them.
“Then, tell me what you know so that we can figure it out together,” Ashlyn said with a murmured, “Thank you,” to the waitress.
“I tell ye what, lass, we’ll take a look into this other case tomorrow, and if I’m still no closer ta figuring out who’s behind it, I’ll tell ye everything I know,” Shayne said, knowing that he’d find another way to protect her from the curse.
“Even if it means that I’m no longer forced to work with you?”
“Even if, lass,” he said, watching her slowly nod and-
“Then, we have a deal.”
CHAPTER 12
“What the hell am I missing?” Ashlyn mumbled as she sat there, staring down at the files that she’d spread across her coffee table as a werewolf movie played in the background to help her think.
Out of eighty-nine files, they’d eliminated one of them today and she had no idea how they did it, Ashlyn thought as her gaze flickered to the file in front of her. She went over everything she’d learned today, trying to figure out what set it apart from the others. Jillian Mathers went missing twenty-five years ago and was reported missing on Saturday evening after she didn’t show up for dinner. The family immediately called the Winter Falls Tavern, where she worked as a hostess, to find out that she never showed up for her shift.
Within the hour, the family called the police and were searching for her around the Winter Falls Tavern, the surrounding woods, the fire lane that led to the old stone quarry, and the path that led from the tavern to the boat ramp that was less than a half-mile from Jillian’s house. They found her body a few hours later, and by morning, they had Patrick in custody. It was the only case where a suspect was not only found, but also convicted, so that begged the question, what did it have incommon with the cases that Detective Black and Shayne were looking into?
It was obvious that it was one of the extra cases that she’d been given by mistake, which meant that it somehow fit the criteria they’d set. The question was, what did it have in common with the eighty-seven cases that he’d requested? Ashlyn wondered as she ran her eyes over the files covering her coffee table and-
Jillian’s body was found, which meant that she could immediately eliminate eight more cases, Ashlyn realized as she went through the cases and pulled the ones where a body had been found and placed them in a box.
“What else?” Ashlyn asked as she glanced back at the files and immediately removed the files for the women who were eventually found alive.
That brought her down to seventy-eight missing women, who had absolutely nothing in common, Ashlyn thought, slowly exhaling as she reached over and grabbed the file that they were supposed to look into tomorrow.
Megan Jorgenson.
She was twenty-two years old when she went missing from King Williams’ Faire in North Stonewall, New Hampshire, where she worked on the weekends. During the week, she was a full-time student at Ashmount College. She was single, had two brothers, lived on campus, and was last seen heading to the back of her tent to grab something for a customer. When she didn’t return, the customer made her way to the guest services and filed a complaint, which prompted one of the organizers to look for her and-
She had no idea why this case was flagged.
She was missing something, but what? Ashlyn wondered as she stared at the folders, hoping that something would jump out at her only to decide to call it a night when she startedseeing double. Decision made, she got up and made her way to the kitchen and grabbed a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough and peanut butter cup ice cream, deciding that she’d more than earned it before grabbing a spoon and made her way to the bathroom.
Maybe she was going about this the wrong way, Ashlyn thought as she placed the ice cream down on the small table she kept by the bathtub. Then again, maybe it was time to admit defeat, but before the thought had a chance to play out in her head, she immediately dismissed it, knowing that she couldn’t do that to Julia’s family.
Which meant that she was going to have to spend more time with the man that she once again found herself thinking about. God, she was pathetic, Ashlyn thought, shaking her head in disgust as she leaned over and closed the drain before turning on the hot water and dropping a handful of lemongrass-scented bath salt in the tub.
As she pulled off her clothes, she found herself thinking about everything that she’d learned about him today and-
“There’s definitely something wrong with me,” Ashlyn muttered with a heavy sigh as she settled in the tub, grabbed the pint of ice cream and took a large bite, all while wondering when exactly she became gullible.
There really was no other explanation for why she was buying into his bullshit story. Granted, there had been no doubt in her mind that he had a problem with motion sickness after he’d muttered, “Kill. Me,” during the entire drive to the tavern. The slumping, groaning, and the two attempts he made to jump out of a moving car went a long way to back that story up, but it was the rest of his story that she was having a hard time wrapping her mind around.
