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Sierra shook her head slowly, but he could see understanding growing in her eyes.
“Right where you found that candy wrapper.”
“Oh, God,” she said on a breath. The silence hung heavy between them. “What do they think it means?”
“No one wanted to say it, they wouldn’t even speculate, just kept talking about how there were lots of reasons for a dog to lose a scent and how they’re going to try again tomorrow morning. So, in the end I threw it out there. I asked the question. Was it possible she was abducted? Don went ballistic, said this was an island of good, law-abiding people and things like that just didn’t happen out here.”
Sierra sat completely still as she took in this new development. He could see her mind turning it over. He liked her sharp wit, her intelligence. It was stimulating. And she didn’t try and hide it, either. He wanted to get to know this woman better. The thought appeared in his head, startling him. It wasn’t just her body he found attractive, although that was pretty darn smokin’ hot. It was the way she saw the world, her direct manner. There was no artifice about her.
“They’re not even considering the idea of an abduction?”
“Yes, they are, but only because I forced the issue. Once I brought it up, one of the mainland detectives, Stanly Moman, agreed with me and said he was already writing that up as an option in his report to his Senior Sergeant.”
“Have they come up with a list of suspects, yet?” She tapped her chin as she spoke, and again, it was as if he could see the cogs of her mind turning, and he almost knew what she was going to say next. “Have they checked the sex offender registry?”
“Yes, Olivia is doing that tonight. She’ll let us know if there’s anyone we need to look at tomorrow.”
“Jesus, I can see why the Sarge doesn’t even want to admit the possibility. This is a fairly small community. It would certainly put a rip in the fabric of island society if people thought there was a monster living in our midst.” Her eyes glazed over, and she seemed to drift off into thoughts of her own. Dark thoughts, if her heavy frown was anything to go by.
Reed wondered how much she knew about this particular topic. How far had she delved into the depths of human depravity, into the soul of a pedophile, to write her exposé on the missing girls so long ago? She definitely knew her stuff. Had it affected her, that knowledge? Was that one of the reasons she’d moved to KI? To get away from corruption and viciousness found in normal society? Don had mentioned she’d fled Adelaide to get away from the effects of an accident, but that didn’t feel like it was the whole story. There was more to this woman, much more. And he wanted to find out what emotions, fears and joys ran in the deep waters of Sierra’s mind.
“Are you going to hold a press conference tomorrow morning?” she asked, interrupting his musings again. “Is that why you need my input?” When he nodded, she said, “That’s good, you need to keep them informed. I’ll help you draft some answers to the questions I know they’re going to throw at you. If they get a sniff that this might be more than just a little girl lost out in the woods, they’ll be like hounds baying for blood. I can give you some tips on how to tackle them, try and damp down the hysteria.”
“Good, that would help a lot.” Reed was glad he’d asked for her help; she might make the difference between them looking like cops who cared, who knew what they were doing for a change, rather than officious bastards who never gave a straight answer and just alienated the media, instead. For the next ten minutes or so, Sierra talked tactics. What questions the media were likely to ask, how to answer them. How to come across as compassionate, yet also professional and proficient. He enjoyed talking to her, almost as much as he enjoyed the closeness of her. The way her shoulder bumped up against his thigh when she turned to look at him. The thought he should join her on the floor occurred to him, but then if he moved, that delicious contact might be broken, so he stayed seated on the couch above, looking down on the top of her head.
“Wow, it’s getting warm in here.” Sierra undid the zip on her hoodie and pulled it off. All she had on underneath was a skin-tight sweater. It was the first time he’d seen her without the bulky tops she liked to wear, and her figure was just as spectacular as he’d imagined. The sweater highlighted her slim shoulders, straight back, trim waist and generous breasts. Reed had to pretend to look at the TV so as not to get caught staring at her curves. He’d seen hints of her breasts beneath the overlarge hoodie, but now the soft fabric draped suggestively, showing them off to full advantage. The sight sent a shot of heat straight to his groin, and it made him stir uncomfortably on the couch.
There was a lull in the conversation and he suddenly needed to fill the silence. Reed was struck by the fact he barely knew anything about this woman. “Tell me about your family.”
“What?” Her delicate brows drew together as she glanced up at him.
“I’m interested, that’s all.” He shrugged, because he couldn’t add that he was interested in where she came from. Who and what had formed her dark-auburn hair and equally dark eyes, her seductive mouth and slightly olive skin?
She hesitated, and he thought perhaps she wasn’t going to answer. Then she said, “My father was Jewish. My mother is Irish. Quite a combination, really. A Jew and a Catholic.” She smiled, and it was clear by her expression that the union had been a volatile one. “I got my looks from my dad, but I get my stubbornness from my mum.”
Reed picked up on Sierra’s inflection. “You said, your father was Jewish?”
“Yeah, he died about five years ago. Had a heart attack.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“It’s one of those things none of us can avoid. Death and taxes.” She began to bunch her food wrapper up into a ball, but then stopped and stared at nothing in particular. “He was a tenacious man, my dad, he made sure my brother and sister and I all grew up with a strong sense of who we were.”
Ah, so that answered his question as to whether she had any siblings. He let her keep talking without interrupting.
“He encouraged me to travel to Israel before I started my degree at uni. I took a gap year, and stayed with my grandparents for nearly nine months. It was definitely an eye-opener. Made me even more determined to become a journalist when I got home. That country is such an enigma. There are so many good things happening there, but at the same time so many hurtful, morally wrong things, as well. So many individuals with so many stories that need to be told. I liked being able to tell people’s stories.” The faraway look remained on her face, but again he picked up her inflection. She liked telling people’s stories as if she didn’t, or couldn’t do that, anymore.
“I can tell.” She obviously missed her dad, even though she’d been flippant about his death. “Does your mum still live in Adelaide?”
“Yeah, she stayed on in the family home. But she’s started spending three or four months of every year back in Ireland, visiting all her aunts and uncles and cousins. If I wasn’t still in the area, I wouldn’t be surprised if she moved back to Ireland for good. She says it’s always felt like home, even though she’s lived in Australia since she was four years old.”
Reed listened to the sound of her voice, enjoying the timbre of it. She had a deep tone, a little raspy for a woman. But it was nice, like syrup flowing over soft sand. And he liked to watch her lips move as she talked. Her mouth had an almost hypnotic affect. From where he sat, he could see the crown of her head, when she wasn’t tilting up to look at him. Her ebony hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, but after her day spent walking through the scrub looking for a lost girl, strands of hair had pulled loose and were hanging untidily around her face. She looked windswept and windburnt from her day searching. A purely natural beauty, without any pretense or vanity. It was refreshing. Reed had to resist the urge to reach out and smooth down a few of those flyaway tendrils.
Sierra stretched her feet out and then pulled her knees into her chest and stood up in one fluid movement. “Floor’s getting a little hard,” she said, almost apologetically. “Mind if I join you?”
Reed patted the cushion next to him by way of invitation. But he didn’t move over. If she wanted to sit on the couch, then she’d have to do it right next to him. He was already in the middle of the couch. It was a test, of sorts. If she didn’t sit next to him, then he had his answer. But if she did…
Her dusky eyes bored into him as she looked first at him and then at the small space on the couch, as if reading his mind. Damn, was he that transparent? Then she sat, settling her nicely-shaped butt into the suede fabric of the cushion. Her knee brushed up against his as she wriggled into place. Was it on purpose? His leg tingled at the touch. His whole body was suddenly aware of just how close she was now. He needed to do something to distract himself. What had they been talking about?
