The Last Sister (Columbia River)(95)

She started to shoot an annoyed look at her aunts but froze at the sight of the happy women’s smiles. I’m lucky to have aunts who chatter.

She looked from Tara to Emily, her pride growing. And two sisters.

There would be no more keeping everyone at arm’s length.

They are worth it.



“How are you feeling?” Zander asked Emily. Her blood warmed at the sound of his voice as his gaze held hers.

“Better every day.”

“We need to talk.”

Her heart stuttered. Has he changed his mind? But there was no regret or concern on his face. He looked more relaxed than she’d ever seen him, his gray eyes serene and patient.

Did my toes just curl?

“Are you saying that the Fitch case is over?” she asked, curving her lips, remembering his promise to her in his SUV.

“I am.” Satisfaction colored his words.

“So now what?” Worry sparked. She had thought long and hard about whether she wanted a long-distance relationship, and the answer had eluded her. Driving back and forth for hours would wear on both of them.

Is it worth trying?

Tara.

Emily’s gaze shot to her sister in conversation with Aunt Thea, a suspicion forming. “Tara wants me to spend a few weeks with her. Or more. She’s been very persistent about it.”

Zander tipped his head. “You don’t say.”

“Faking innocence doesn’t suit you.”

“Getting you closer to Portland for a while was her idea. You’ll get to know her and Bella, and we can spend time together without me being on the clock.” He studied her face. “Will you do it?”

“Yes.” Absolutely. She couldn’t stop her smile.

“Good . . . and I found something you might be interested in.” He handed her a small, narrow box. “Madison told me how much it meant to you and your sisters. And Simon Rhoads helped me find it. You’re right . . . he’ll do anything for Dory—or you.”

Emily took the box in apprehension. “You didn’t need to—”

“It’s nothing.”

His gaze was on the box, avoiding her eyes. It’s something.

“I know the original was lost in the fire, but this one is close,” he said.

She barely knew Zander Wells. She didn’t know where he had grown up, how he liked his steak, or what kind of music he enjoyed. But she knew him. She knew his character; he had integrity and honor and intelligence.

He was a good man.

She lifted the lid off the small white box and lost her breath. “Where did you find it?”

“Like I said, Simon did most of the work. I asked him about it, and it became a mission for him.” He leaned closer.

The bracelet of buttons in the box started to blur. She picked it up, examining each button. Someone had invested a lot of time and effort to make a very special bracelet.

Damn, how I loved the original.

This bracelet was so similar. But that wasn’t the important aspect. What was important was that Zander had listened and cared.

She blinked away tears and studied him. A fresh vulnerability shone in his eyes.

How did this happen so fast?

“I need a date for a wedding this summer,” he finally said, holding her gaze.

“Ava’s?” Emily had hoped to see the agent again.

“Will you go with me? She’d be thrilled to see you.”

“Is that what you want?” she asked, an undertone in her question, her heart in her throat.

“Absolutely.”





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thank you to Colleen Lindsay and Anh Schluep, who helped me brainstorm the skeleton of this story, and to Charlotte Herscher, who supervised the addition of the flesh.

My readers have begged for a book for Zander Wells since his first appearance in my Callahan & McLane series, and I’m excited that I found a way to make that happen.

Thank you to all the usual suspects on my Montlake team. I count my blessings every day that I work with the most innovative publishing house in the world.

Thank you so much to my partner in crime Melinda Leigh, who patiently listens to me moan and groan when the words won’t come and always suggests I blow something up when my plot gets stuck.





WANT TO LEARN HOW ZANDER, MASON, AND AVA MET? READ THE FIRST CHAPTER OF VANISHED, THE FIRST BOOK IN THE CALLAHAN & MCLANE SERIES

Mason Callahan hadn’t seen Josie in three months.

The leanness of her face and the indentations above her collarbones told him she’d lost weight. In a bad way.

Time hadn’t been kind to her, and the scabbed sores on her cheeks hinted that meth was probably the new love of her life.

There’d been a time when he’d fought a bit of an attraction to the woman.

She’d been sweet and eager to please, a pretty woman in a wholesome-country-song sort of way.

She and Mason shared a rural background and a similar taste in music that’d made her more enjoyable than his other confidential informants.

But now she’d never work with him again.

His fingers tightened on the brim of the cowboy hat in his hand, and he swallowed hard at the sight of her contorted body on the floor of the bathroom in her cramped apartment.

Anger abruptly blurred his vision. Someone had taken a baseball bat to her skull. The murder weapon was dumped in the shower, blood and hair sticking to the bat.