Stone Cold Heart (Tracers #13)(94)

“How’d you find her?”

“Basically, wading through missing-persons cases from the last two years. Her physical description was consistent, so I ran it down. She disappeared two summers ago. She was estranged from her family, so it took a while for her to be reported. When she missed paying her rent, her landlord tracked down a relative, and her family ended up filing a report.”

Dax nodded. “ID?”

“Her sister recognized a gold pendant found with the body. We confirmed through dental records.”

“Good work.”

“Thanks.”

He held her gaze, and the moment stretched out. “You parked out here?” He looked over her shoulder. “I’ll walk you.”

They started toward the parking lot, and Talia tried to think of something to say. She came up empty, and soon they reached her car. She fished her keys from her purse. She had no more excuses to linger with him. Or even see him again.

“Thanks for your work,” Dax said.

“No problem.”

“I mean it. Without your help, Grace might never have made it home.”

Talia nodded. He was right, and it was the one thing to feel good about in this whole disturbing case.

She popped her car locks and opened the door. “Well. Take care.”

“You too.” He stepped back. “And if you get up to Austin, call me.”

“Why?” she asked before she could stop herself.

“We could go get a drink together. Or listen to some blues somewhere.” He smiled, and she felt it down to her toes. She’d told him she liked blues music, and he’d been listening. And he wanted her to know he’d been listening.

Talia smiled up at him. “I’d like that.”





CHAPTER 30


Sara woke with a start as her front door swung open. She felt a spurt of panic, but the familiar sound of Nolan’s boots against the floor made her relax.

She glanced at the clock. It was one fifteen. She listened to Nolan’s footsteps as he made his way to the kitchen, where she’d left a light on. She heard the swoosh of his jacket landing on the armchair and then his gear hitting the bar: keys, holster, handcuffs.

More footsteps, and then the bed sank with a creak. One by one, his boots hit the floor, and then he stretched out behind her and hooked his arm over her waist as he kissed her neck.

“Umm. Hi.” She rolled over to look at him. The light from the kitchen cast shadows across his face.

“Sorry I’m late.” He kissed her. “Liquor-store hold-up.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, but not for food.” He dipped his head down and nibbled her neck.

“Seriously, I can heat something up for you.”

He smiled.

“Food, Nolan.”

Another kiss. “I’m good.”

She searched his eyes and noticed the tension. “What’s wrong? Were there fatalities?”

He propped himself up on his elbow. “Nothing like that.”

Dread tightened her stomach as she looked at him.

He brushed a lock of hair from her face. “Hank is retiring.”

“Oh.” She tried to clear the haze of sleep so she could think about the implications.

“The mayor wants to appoint me acting chief. And he’s recommending me to the city council as the permanent replacement.”

Sara sat up. The sheet slipped down around her waist, and Nolan’s gaze went to her skimpy black nightgown as she scooted back against the headboard.

“Damn, now I’m really sorry I’m late.” He leaned in for a kiss, but she held him off.

“Nolan, that’s great. What did you tell him?”

He eased back. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean? You had to tell him something.”

He looked at her evenly. “I told him I needed to think about it.”

Sara watched him, trying to read his thoughts. Her heart was racing now, and she wondered if he was worried about the same thing she was.

It was the fifth night this week he’d shown up at her apartment after midnight. In the three weeks since Gaines’s arrest, they’d spent every single day shuttling back and forth between houses—mostly sleeping at her place, meaning that Nolan dealt with four hours of driving, which cut into his sleep and his time off. Sara traced her fingers over his hand, wishing things were different. He’d just gotten here, and he’d have to be up and gone again in a few hours.

They couldn’t keep this up if he became chief of police. But just the thought of limiting their relationship to weekends or—God forbid—ending it felt like a knife in her chest.

“I’ve been thinking.” Nolan cleared his throat, and she braced herself for more news she wasn’t going to like. “We’d have more time together if we lived in the same place. Yeah, we’d still work long hours, but at least we’d see each other coming and going.”

“You mean move in together.”

He nodded.

“Where would we live? Your place, I assume?”

He tipped his head to the side. “It’s possible. I mean, when you get callouts, the person’s already dead, right? They’ve been dead a while. It’s not as time-sensitive as, say, a robbery in progress.”