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Josie practically melted into the countertop. Still, one of her hands snaked upward, under his T-shirt to his right shoulder where a puckered circle of flesh ridged beneath her fingers. She had given him this scar when she shot him. It was long before they got together, and even though she had believed she was doing the right thing at the time, she still regretted it.
Noah caught her hand. He lifted his head so he could look her in the eye. With a smile, he said, “They look like forgiving your spouse after she’s shot you.”
Josie wanted to kiss him. She wanted them to make far better use of the kitchen right now than ruining pancakes. But her brain wouldn’t let her. It was back in the interrogation room with Beau Collins.
“Noah,” she said softly as he kissed the tips of her fingers.
His head dipped down, tongue finding the hollow of her throat, arms wrapping her up. Involuntarily, she moaned. Getting her bearings again, she said, “What you said to Collins yesterday, about giving up the job for me, did you mean it?”
His tongue stopped only long enough for him to mumble against her skin, “You really want to talk about this now? We have to be at WYEP in an hour. Let’s use the time well.”
She thought about the lesson that all her relationships had taught her. It was an awful thing, probably because it never went the way you hoped it would. It was that you could never know who a person truly was until they were tested. You thought that the boy you fell in love with at nine years old would grow up to be someone brave, courageous, and with enough integrity and backbone to stand up to corruption. But when he was tested, he wasn’t that person at all. You thought that the fiancé you fell in love with after him was honest and loyal, that he would never push you away or cheat on you, especially after you nursed him back to health from a near-fatal injury for over a year. But when he was tested, he failed.
There were all kinds of ways that people were tested—in and out of relationships—and there were ways that relationships themselves were tested. You never knew how strong your relationship was until it was challenged because you never knew anyone—not really—until they were put to the test.
Noah lifted her off her feet, pulling her legs around his waist. Josie’s body adhered to his without thought, her physical need for him overtaking all else. Only the sound of her phone ringing stopped them from going back to bed. It took everything in her to peel herself away from Noah. He clung to her, talking into her neck. “Don’t answer that.”
“I have to,” she said. “At least let me see who it is.”
With a sigh, she extricated herself, walked back to the table, and picked up her phone. The number was local but she didn’t recognize it. Still, she swiped answer. “This is Detective Quinn.”
A woman’s hushed voice said, “Detective? This is Margot Huff. From last night? I think we need your help.”
Josie heard shouts and crying in the background. “Where are you, Margot?”
In a whisper, she said, “At the studio. Please hurry. I think Eve is missing.”
FIFTEEN
WYEP, Denton’s local television station, was located on top of a mountain in the northwest quadrant of the city. It was a blocky, two-story building that could have been any office building in the city except for the news vans lined up side by side in the parking lot. It had been less than twenty-four hours since Claudia was murdered, but Josie wondered if anyone from the local news had found out yet. It would be a huge story and difficult to contain, seeing that the Collinses taped their show in the same building as the WYEP news.
Josie and Noah flashed their credentials at a security guard who buzzed them through a vestibule into a large hallway. A sign hung on the wall, listing all the main attractions on the first floor with arrows pointing either left or right, depending on their location. The main studio was to the left. Studio One, which was where the Collinses taped their show, was to the right. At least the reporters were on the opposite end of the building.
Voices could be heard from behind the door to Studio One before Josie pushed it open. As she and Noah entered the small, dark space, a man shouted, “—you shut up, you hag! You never cared about Claudia either!”
In the center of the room, illuminated by a circle of bright light, the set held the white couch and coffee table from which the Collinses did their show. Several people were gathered around the table, including the man who had just shouted. He pointed a finger at a tall woman on the other side of the table.
“Shut up, Liam!” she snapped. “I’m raising a legitimate concern. Whether any of you like it or not, we still have to decide what to do about this show.”
Breathing heavily, Liam curled his hands into fists. “Who cares about this stupid show? Claudia was murdered! None of you even care.”
Someone else said, “That’s not true!”
Beau, who had been sitting on the couch, stood and tried to put an arm around Liam’s shoulder.
“Don’t touch me,” Liam said, shrugging him off. “This is all your fault.”
Beau looked stricken. The room fell silent except for someone sobbing quietly. Slowly, he walked away from the group. The tall woman said, “Beau, please. I don’t mean any disrespect. I’m just trying to be practical. I’m a producer. That’s my job.”
“Kathy, please,” he mumbled, walking away from her. He headed toward a darkened control room. Two other women followed. Josie and Noah picked their way past lighting equipment and three cameras. Everyone had backed away from Liam. Kathy turned toward him and said, “You should watch yourself. You’re just a camera operator. We could replace you within the hour.”
Liam lunged toward her and the other people by the couch and coffee table surged between them. Kathy’s hand shot between the shoulders of the two men pulling him away from her and yanked at Liam’s beard. He cried out and twisted his head away from her. Long nails raked down his face, knocking his glasses onto the floor and leaving three welts on his forehead.
“Bitch!” Liam cried as he was dragged away and off to the side of the room. One of the women in the room picked up his glasses. She shot Kathy a dirty look before walking over to where Liam was now, assuring the men he would stay calm.
Josie didn’t miss the producer’s satisfied smile. She kept her tone low so that only Noah could hear. “Gretchen should be on shift now. Text her and ask her to get over here. We’re going to need statements from all these people about their relationship with Claudia, when they last saw her, and where they were last night.”
Noah’s fingers flew across his phone screen. “You got it.”
