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“Depends. Task forces are formed for different reasons.”
“What does your task force do?”
“It’s a multidepartment violent crimes task force. We apprehend violent criminals.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. She was more comfortable thinking of him asking questions, writing stuff down in a little notebook; in short, detecting. Apprehending violent criminals sounded as if he was breaking down doors and stuff like that, and facing mean people who were likely to shoot at him.
“I want to ask you some questions about that,” she said, lifting her head to frown at him. “But not right now. Later.”
He blew out a relieved breath.
He held her on his lap for quite a while. He held her close while she called the office and reported off for the rest of the day. She managed to keep her voice even, but Mr. deWynter wasn’t in and she had to talk to Gina, who was full of questions and also reported that both Luna and T.J. had called several times.
“I’ll call them back,” Jaine said, and hung up. Miserably she buried her face against Sam’s shoulder again. “How long do I have to dodge them?”
“At least until they aren’t at work. I’ll check with the sergeant at Sterling Heights to see if her sister has been contacted yet. And just don’t answer your phone; anyone who needs me will either page me or call on my cell phone.”
Eventually she left the comfort of his lap and went to the bathroom to wash her face with cold water. She peered at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red, and her entire face was puffy from crying; she looked like hell, and didn’t care. Wearily she changed into jeans and a T-shirt, and took two aspirin for her pounding head.
She was sitting on the side of the bed when Sam came looking for her. He loomed in the doorway, big and masculine and utterly comfortable even in the feminine environs of her bedroom. He sat down beside her. “You look tired. Why don’t you take a nap?”
She was tired, almost overwhelmingly so, but at the same time she didn’t think she could sleep. “At least lie down,” he said, seeing the doubt on her face. “And don’t worry; if you do go to sleep and I learn something, I’ll wake you up immediately.”
“Scout’s honor?”
“Scout’s honor.”
“Were you ever a scout?”
“Hell, no. I was too busy getting into trouble.”
He was being so sweet she wanted to hug him to pieces. Instead she kissed him and said, “Thanks, Sam. I don’t know what I’d have done today without you.”
“You’d have managed anyway,” he said, and returned the kiss with interest, but drew back before it could heat into anything serious. “Sleep if you can,” he said, and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.
She lay down and closed her burning eyes. Eventually the aspirin began to work on her headache, and when she opened her eyes, she realized that the afternoon had grown late. She looked at the clock in some astonishment; three hours had passed. She had slept after all.
She had some treated eye pads for soothing tired and puffy eyes, so she placed two of them over her lids and rested for a little while longer, trying to muster some energy for the next few draining days. When she sat up and removed the eye pads, the puffiness was noticeably less. She brushed her hair and teeth, then wandered out to find Sam watching television with BooBoo asleep in his lap.
“Any news?”
He had considerably more details now than he had earlier, but none he wanted her to know. “The sister has been notified, and the press knows Marci’s identity now. It’ll probably be on the evening news.”
Her face tightened with sorrow. “Luna? T.J.?”
“I turned off your phones after you went to sleep. There are a couple of messages from them on your machine, though.”
She checked the time again. “They’re on their way home from work now. I’ll try their numbers in a few minutes. I’d hate for them to hear it on television.”
She had barely gotten the words out of her mouth when two cars pulled into her driveway: Luna’s Camaro and T.J.’s Buick. Jaine briefly closed her eyes, trying to brace herself for the next few minutes, and walked barefoot out onto the front porch to meet her friends. Sam came out behind her.
“What’s going on?” T.J. half-yelled, her pretty face haggard with tension. “We can’t find Marci, you left work and won’t answer your telephone—damn it, Jaine …”
Jaine felt her face start to crumple. She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back the sobs that convulsed her chest.
Luna stopped in her tracks, tears welling. “Jaine?” she asked in a shaky voice. “What’s happened?”
Jaine took several deep breaths, fighting for control. “It—it’s Marci,” she managed to say.
