Page 8 of Exhale (Out for Justice #8)

W hile Owen called Detective Knoll, Jordan searched the apartment.

Jordan came back moments later holding up the silver compact.

“Found it beneath a pile of papers and clothes on Ginny’s bedroom floor,” Jordan announced, carrying it to the kitchen and plugging it in at the outlet near the island bar.

“Hello?” Knoll said.

“Were Ginny and her friend the only two bodies found?” Owen said.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because she has or had kids,” Owen said, watching Jordan open the laptop and tap on the keys even though the screen was still black.

“I’ll be right there,” Knoll said and hung up.

Owen found bottled water in the fridge and took two, handing Jordan one.

They stayed silent, waiting for the laptop to charge enough to fire up, and when it did, Jordan hacked in within seconds.

“I know you can do that in your sleep, but it’s still impressive,” Owen said.

Fascinated, he watched the flush of pleasure heat Jordan’s neck and cheeks.

Knoll and Preston came back through the doorway, breaking the moment. Preston smelled of smoke. If the guy knew how gross that shit stunk, Owen doubted he would smoke. Or maybe the guy didn’t give a shit. That was a possibility.

“What are you doing?” Knoll said, approaching the countertop where Jordan had the laptop sitting.

“Looking for whoever might have targeted Ginny,” Jordan said.

“Why?”

Jordan gave the guy a look that pretty much asked, are you stupid? Knoll got it, though, and flushed with anger.

Owen stepped in before Knoll could blow a gasket and handed him the photo of his ex with the boys.

“How do you know they are hers?” Knoll asked, frowning at the photo.

“I don’t, but—” he began, but was interrupted by Jordan.

“They’re hers. Look,” Jordan pointed to the laptop screen.

Several photos were on the screen of various celebrations, their birth, their one-year birthday party, her and the kids together.

“They’re twins,” Jordan said. It was clear in the birthday photo.

Jordan gazed at the pictures, which stopped at about the age of one year old. Which made sense, since the kids were young.

However, there was something odd about the photos, and he frowned when he noticed the dates.

Either the dates of the pictures were out of date or these photos were taken several years ago. That would mean that the boys were older than one and closer to five years.

Plus, the toy train on the floor wasn’t geared for toddlers. For one, the wheels could come off, and those could end up in their mouths.

Jordan had done his share of watching babies and toddlers while at his foster parents’ house. The first family the CPS had placed him with had been great, but they’d decided they couldn’t handle all the kids they were trying to help, and Jordan had ended up with a nightmare of a family after that.

He shook off the thought and kept the photo dates to himself for now.

“So, they are hers,” Owen said, turning on Knoll. “Put an APB out on her kids.”

“Now wait a minute, isn’t that jumping the gun? What if they are at the sitter’s?” Knoll argued.

Owen snapped his fingers. “Her parents, she has parents,” he told Jordan.

“So, you know where they live?”

“No.” Owen shook his head.

“I’ll find them,” Jordan said and lifted his own bag that was hanging by its strap on the back of the barstool. He pulled out his Pegasus laptop and began doing a search.

“Still, if we come up empty, get ready to start a search,” Owen told Knoll.

“Yeah, I got it,” the detective said, sounding resigned.

Jordan tried to contain his smirk, but it was hard not to.

Knoll was no match for Owen.

On the drive out to Ginny’s parents’ house, a call came in, and Owen answered it on the first ring with a slight smile.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey, you didn’t make it to last Sunday night dinner.”

“I’m sorry, something came up. I was on a job.”

She sighed. “I understand, but I miss you.”

“I miss you too.”

“Will you be here this Sunday?”

“Maybe not. I’m out of state at the moment, but I’ll call you when I get back in.”

“Oh, okay, how are things going with Jordan?”

Owen felt the heat sweep up his neck and Jordan’s quick snicker.

“Ahhh, I gotta go, Mom,” he said, ending the call.

“How are things going with me?”

Owen tossed Jordan a mock glare. “I’m not sure yet.”

Jordan laughed long and hard.

Ginny’s parents lived at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac in a small neighborhood across town from Ginny’s dumpy apartment.

Mr. Long was in his sixties, and Mrs. Long looked slightly older, but that could be due to the fact that men didn’t show their age as much.

“I only have tea,” Mrs. Long said, placing down a vintage tea tray with tea cups and a pot. She poured each cup and added sugar to hers before sitting down on an heirloom sofa.

Or rather, it looked like an heirloom with its paisley pattern in creams, browns, and burgundy.

Owen didn’t know and he didn’t care. They hadn’t liked him while he was married to Ginny, so he found it odd that they had invited him in and she was serving him tea.

Jordan plunked several teaspoons of sugar into his tea and sipped at it.

Owen left his where it was while Mr. Long took a sip from his own cup. The man was eyeing him as if he were here to cause trouble.

He’d bet money that Ginny’s kids were not here and probably never had been. The place was also neat and too quiet, unless they had them locked up in a room somewhere.

“I’ll keep this short,” Owen said. “Ginny had kids, did you know that?”

“We did.” Mr. Long sat back and crossed one leg over the other.

It dawned on Owen that they might not know that Ginny had died. Or maybe they just didn’t give a shit. Ginny had been born late in their life, and she had told him that her unexpected arrival had fucked up their retirement plans. They hadn’t cared about her much at all.

“Did you know that she’s dead?” Owen said flatly, not sugar-coating it.

Mrs. Long gasped, her teacup rattled, and she placed the cup down to cover her mouth with both hands.

“The hell you say?” Mr. Long glared.

“She was murdered in a house fire three days ago.”

“Why weren’t we notified?” Mr. Long growled, anger heating the older man’s face.

“I doubt anyone knows you exist,” Owen snarled.

The stare down was immense, filled with tension and sorrow and fear. Mrs. Long dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and her hands shook.

“Are the kids here?” Owen said.

“No,” Mrs. Long said behind a fist pressed to her lips.

“Did you abandon them?” Owen cocked his head a tiny bit.

Mr. Long gave him a look filled with hate. “You were no prize yourself,” the man snapped. “You walked away from that marriage, so don’t sit here and judge us!”

“You’re not worthy,” Owen sneered.

Rage turned Mr. Long’s face a dark red hue. “What the hell do you want, Gray?” Mr. Long snapped back.

“Nothing,” Owen said. “There’s not a goddamned thing I want from you two self-centered people.”

Especially since Ginny’s kids were not there.

“I just thought you should know,” he said, and stood. Jordan stood as well. “I’ll show myself out.”

Outside, the sun felt too bright after the dark dimness of the house, and as Owen walked away with Jordan at his side, he felt a sense of relief.

“Now what?” Jordan said.

“The least I can do is find her kids and make sure they’re safe.”

And he would find them, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.