Shattered (LOST #3)(24)

Ah, trust Carlos to get there before the cops. “If you learn anything else, let me know.”

“Always, boss,” Carlos promised.

Jax put down his phone. Sarah was staring up at him. She even tapped her foot.

He let both of his brows rise.

“Tell me,” she demanded.

“Let’s take a ride on my bike.”

Sarah’s eyes went molten. So dark and fiery.

“I’ll take you to the last place she was seen, princess. Will that help?”

She lunged toward him. “Get me on that bike.”

Ah, he’d thought that would work. “Just remember,” Jax murmured. “You owe me.” He always collected on his debts.

VICTORIA STOOD IN the New Orleans police bullpen. Voices were buzzing around her. The cops moving so fast. Everything seemed too loud. Too rough.

But then, that was the way things had been for her in the last few days. She’d gotten out of the hospital after her abduction and attack, and she’d thought life would return to normal.

It hadn’t.

But the nightmares had started. Terrible twisting dreams.

“Viki?”

At Gabe’s call, she flinched. She hadn’t meant to do that, dammit. She didn’t want her boss knowing just how rattled she was. Victoria turned toward him, carefully schooling her features.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

Ah, that was Gabe. Always checking on his team. His handsome face was etched with concern.

“Of course,” she lied. Like she’d tell him—or anyone—that she was falling apart on the inside.

His lips thinned. “I want you heading back to Atlanta.”

What?

“Take some time off. You don’t have to jump right back into a case, especially not this one.” He glanced around them, then muttered, “I have a bad feeling in my gut about this case. First the girl’s brother sneaks into Sarah’s hotel room, then Molly’s photo gets sent to Sarah?” He shook his head. “Coincidences don’t happen. Someone is playing a game with us here.”

And he wanted her out of the picture because . . . what? She was some kind of liability because she’d been caught off guard before. “You don’t think I can do my job?” That hurt. Because the job was all she had.

She’d never been particularly comfortable around other people. Not like Gabe was or Dean was, anyway. She said the wrong thing. Stumbled over her words. But the dead . . . she made a difference with them. She helped then.

Gabe’s face softened as he focused on her. “I think you can do anything.” He sounded as if he meant those words. “But I also know you went through hell recently.”

Hell . . . Being drugged, sealed in a body bag, and nearly murdered by a madman. Yes, that whole experience hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park. And that’s why the bad dreams haunt me each night. She’d thought about talking with Sarah. If anyone could understand her nightmares, it would be Sarah. And it wasn’t just because Sarah was a psychiatrist.

I know she has nightmares, too.

“I want you to recover. Hell, I’m not letting Emma Castille work this case, either. I gave strict instructions for her to recover, too, and keeping her from joining us here at the station was damn hard.”

Emma . . . Emma was Dean’s new fiancée and a woman with an uncanny ability to read others. She picked up on the smallest of tells. Emma could read body language like no one Victoria had ever encountered before . . . but, like Victoria, she’d also just gotten out of the hospital.

Only Emma hadn’t just been sliced with a knife. She’d been shot.

“I want you both to recover.” Gabe gave a hard nod. “And we don’t have a body, Viki. We can find this girl, alive. If she’s just gone missing, then the odds can finally be in our favor.”

And Viki didn’t help with the living. Only the dead.

“I’ll get your plane ticket,” Gabe told her. His gaze softened as he studied her. “I can have you out of the Big Easy in hours.”

One of the detectives called his name and Gabe stepped away from her. Victoria stared after him. He was right, though. The team didn’t need her. They didn’t have a body.

Just find the girl alive.





Chapter 5

IT WAS ONLY NOON, BUT BOURBON STREET WAS ALready packed with people. Men and women walked down the street, their hands wrapped around their drinks. Mimosas. Hurricanes. The folks out there were all laughing and talking.

Many of the bars were open, but Voodoo Night . . . its doors were shut.

Sarah leaned forward, nearly pressing her nose to the glass as she tried to look inside the bar. But she didn’t see anyone in there. The chairs had been placed on top of the tables and the interior was dim.

“It’s called Voodoo Night for a reason,” Jax murmured. “The place doesn’t get going until the sun sets.”

And he’d known that—but still brought her there? “I don’t have time to waste,” Sarah said. Didn’t he understand? Every moment, Molly was in danger. The man holding her had taunted Sarah, saying that she had to come and find the other woman. But what if Sarah didn’t find her in time? Adrenaline pumped through her blood as she whirled from that building. “I need to get the addresses of the folks who work here. I can go to their houses and talk to them. Maybe one of them remembers seeing Molly leave last night.”