Page 21 of Ultimate Justice

Gently, he tugged her into his arms. Her body shook as she sobbed against his chest. People passing on the sidewalk eyed them with concern. The woman Marlie had lit into had wisely taken her daughter and walked in the opposite direction.

She continued trembling like a shaky tree limb in a windstorm. Fragile, subject to breaking, yet stronger than it looked. Her sobs finally subsided, and she fisted her hands against his chest.

“C’mon,” he said, urging her to the Expedition. He opened the passenger door and waited for her to get in. After loading Blue into the kennel, he rounded the hood and got behind the wheel.

Marlie stared straight ahead through the windshield. His heart went out to her. For her loss, her strength, and her courage.

Blue stuck his head through the opening between the kennel and passenger compartment. He nuzzled Marlie’s hair until she sifted her fingers into his thick ruff. Dr. Blue was taking his shrink duties to heart, a sure sign he liked her.

Her complexion was pale as she swiped at the last of her tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” If anything, he did. For putting her through this.

When she turned to look at him, all he could think was how beautiful she was. Some people really did ugly-cry. Not her. Wisps of blond hair framed her face, emphasizing the delicate cheek bones. Watery blue eyes reminded him of Caribbean shallows, and that sweet, warm, rose scent filled his nose.

Her lips trembled. “You know, don’t you.” She dug her fingers deeper into Blue’s coat.

He nodded. “Yes.” If she wanted to talk about it, he’d be her sounding board. If not, he’d respect her privacy.

She let her hands drop to her lap, staring at them. “It’s been three years, but sometimes it seems like it happened only yesterday. I can still remember the exact moment when I couldn’t find him. It was my fault. I glanced down at my phone, and when I looked up, he was gone. I thought it was only for a few seconds, but maybe it was more.” She swallowed, then slowly began shaking her head. “When I saw that woman texting and completely ignoring her child, I just…lost it.”

“It’s understandable.” He reached out to take her hand, then thought better of it. “Maybe what you said got through to her.”

“I hope so. No mother should have to go through what I did.” She turned to face him. “That’s why I didn’t want to work with you. After what happened, who am I to take care of a child again?”

“You may not agree, but that makes you the perfect guardian for Noah. Because you’ll never let anything happen to him.”

“Your faith in me may be misguided. I hope I don’t disappoint you. Or Noah.”

“You won’t,” he reassured her. “You’re great with children.”

“Used to be. A lifetime ago. At least it seems like a lifetime.” She made a self-deprecating laugh. “Working with kids, helping them through life’s difficult moments, was why I became a counselor.”

Now he knew something else about Marlie Foxe. She was modest and humble. She could easily have thrown her psychology doctorate in his face.

“You were good with Noah,” she said. “Do you have any kids?”

“No.” The way his life was going, he probably never would. “The FBI sends me to a lot of training.”

She nodded. “CARD-team training.”

He wasn’t surprised she knew about the FBI’s CARD teams. Although it hadn’t been assigned to him, he remembered the case involving her son and how it had ended. When they’d found Aiden’s body in the woods.

“Why did you join the CARD teams? I can’t imagine dealing with parents’ grief every day of my life.”

He shrugged. “It’s not easy.” It tore at his guts every time.

“Then why do you do it?”

They were working together now. If she wanted the truth, he’d give it to her. Part of it, anyway. He tugged the picture of Gracie from his wallet and handed it to her. “My twin sister, Grace. I do this because I never got closure. My parents never got closure. We probably never will.” Closure wouldn’t bring a child back, but it was one of the things that helped families move on. To a degree, at least.

Her jaw dropped, and she gasped. “Oh my God. How long ago?”

“Twenty-four years.” And counting. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her about the Polaroid. Not only was it evidence, there was no need for her to know his own sister might be at the camp.

She handed him back the photo. “I guess we’re both stuck in the past.”

True that. He’d spent his entire adult life fixated on solving his sister’s disappearance. Since the tragedy in Marlie’s life, it was obvious she’d been living yet not living. Hypocrite that he was. Wasn’t he doing the same thing? Sometimes, in a moment of absolute clarity, he wondered how much longer he could go on like this. Alone and with no one to share his life with. But this was the life he’d chosen, and he was stuck with it.