Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls #3)(47)

“Do you think he had something to do with Dena’s disappearance?” Whoever he was, Mac wanted to smash his face.

“No. He’s a suspect in Missy Green’s murder.” She checked her phone. “I’m waiting for Gianna to return my call so I can get her to ID him.”

“Have you found anything to connect the cases?”

“No. Maybe I’m wrong and they’re not related.” She turned the rearview mirror to examine her face.

As much as Mac hated to see that mark on her face, he said, “Gives you street cred.”

She smiled, then winced as if the motion hurt. “Always good.”

“Where are we going?” He gulped coffee.

“The drug treatment center Missy used. The New Life Center for Hope.” She glanced at him. “Like I told you on the phone. You don’t have to come with me. This might not be related to Dena’s case.”

“Then again, maybe it is,” Mac said. “I read the case files. Both women are about the same age. They both have dark hair. Both the murder and the abduction were violent crimes, and they occurred within days of each other.” He paused. “Besides, I trust your instincts even if you don’t.”

Blushing, Stella settled into her seat, her fine-boned hands low on the steering wheel.

“What do you know about the center?”

“It’s run by a Dr. Randolph. He has no pending malpractice suits and no criminal record.” Stella tucked a stray hair back into her bun. “His center is supposed to be the best. People come from quite a distance to get treated there.”

“The Who’s Who of rehab?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you always wear your hair all coiled up like that?” He regretted the question as it left his lips.

“Our chief takes the dress code very seriously.” Stella sighed. “My other option is to buzz it above my ears.”

He pictured the way her hair had looked tousled and damp the night he’d crashed his Jeep. “The bun is awesome.”

“I think so, too.” Her grin eased the pressure in his chest. The more time he spent around Stella, the more interest he had in his hometown. He enjoyed the kids, too, and Hannah and Grant when they weren’t too pushy. Was it possible that the good memories would eventually outweigh the bad?

“I’m taking you with me, but you have to behave.” She shot him a bossy look, which was just plain hot. Stella could push him around anytime. Hell, she could handcuff him and—“I’d like to get on the doctor’s good side, so please don’t body slam anyone,” she said with a direct gaze that made his blood hum.

“Yes, ma’am.” Might be interesting to see those handcuffs on her wrists, too. Padded of course. Mac would never leave a mark on her perfect skin. He stared out the windshield. “I’ve been thinking about Missy’s case. Heroin as a weapon seems odd if she was tortured.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Why inflict pain on someone and then give them a painless death?”

“Good question.” Her gaze darted to his arms.

“I never did heroin, if that’s what you’re curious about.”

“No?”

“No. My drug of choice was oxy. I had this buddy in high school who introduced me to it. His father dealt the stuff in a major way. Looking back with the hindsight of an adult, I realize that I was pretty depressed and frustrated. I was the only kid left at home by that point, and my Mom wasn’t well. We didn’t know at the time she had cancer. I thought she was worn out from taking care of my dad and didn’t have any energy left for me. No one was really on top of things at that point.”

“So you were alone with two very sick parents. How old were you?”

“Sixteen.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.” Her voice held too much sympathy for his comfort.

“I didn’t mean to unload on you.”

“That’s what real friends are for.”

Mac did not want to be friends with Stella.

She slid her hands to the top of the steering wheel and drummed her fingers. “Did you belong to NA?”

Mac watched the blur of trees pass by. “I tried it, but sharing my problems with strangers never appealed to me. My brother, Lee, the one who was killed last year, dragged me to my mother’s deathbed and made me swear to her that I’d straighten out. Later, anytime I felt tempted, I’d visit her grave.”

Grief bloomed in Mac’s chest. His mom’s illness and death had torn him apart. Except for Lee’s funeral last year, he hadn’t been to the cemetery in years. Because he hadn’t needed to be reminded of his promise? Or because he couldn’t bear to be reminded of her death? He was dreading the Colonel’s funeral.

“Are you sure you want to go out here with me?” Stella’s concerned gaze felt like a touch. Or perhaps that was wishful thinking on his part.

“I’ll be fine.” He certainly didn’t want her going alone. His memory of Adam Miller reacting to her questions was too fresh, as was the bruise on her face.

For a guy who never had much of a temper, Mac was feeling uncharacteristically violent. Stella brought out his uncivilized side, not that it was buried all that deep.

He was sure Stella was trained in hand-to-hand, and in no way did Mac think women were weak. His sister was one of the toughest people he knew. But he couldn’t control the urge to protect Stella. The emotions stirring in his chest worried him. He could get attached to her. He had enough commitment issues with his family, and Scarlet Falls was a huge pot of bad luck for him. Did she feel something for him? And if she did, how could he walk away from the potential?