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She shrugged. “I guess it comes with the territory when you’re a journalist. Sometimes it’s the little things that count the most.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” Reed gave her a quick smile before he began to rummage around in his police vest pockets, finally pulling out a zipper-lock bag. He’d taken his police cap off in the car and hadn’t bothered to put it back on. Now his head was lowered in front of her, his thick, black hair dark against his skull, a few tufts sticking out above his eyes, where he’d run a restless hand through it. She watched his shoulders move beneath his jacket, broad and strong. And she felt that tug again. The same one as on the ferry. A physical magnetism toward this man. As if something were drawing her slowly in.
Reed glanced up and caught her staring. He raised an eyebrow, and she knew he understood what she’d been doing. That she liked what she saw. Was drinking him in as if she was a woman dying of thirst. Heat rose up her neck and she was thankful he wouldn’t see the tell-tale red behind the high collar of her coat.
“What do we do now?” she asked, moving away to stare out over the green field, crossing her arms over her chest.
“We keep looking,” he said. “I think this area is still our best bet. I’ll get Tom to organize a team to come and search this open ground. You and I will skirt around to the left and search just inside the edge of the bushland.”
Sierra decided Reed’s instincts were right. This felt like it might well have been where the little girl had come to see her precious kangaroos. But his notion relied on the fact Jessica walked down here on her own, and was now lost or injured somewhere. It didn’t account for another theory.
That someone had seen Jessica walking down the road. Or found her standing in this very spot, looking for a way to get through the fence. And taken her.
