Page 109 of Missing Justice

Grey stood too. “I can help with Ros. I have a special technique for getting confessions.”

Taylor just bet he did.

Mer started to say no, then stopped. “I have your word that you’ll get out of my hair after this?”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes and waved at him to come along. Taylor smiled, watching the two enemies walk out together as she hopped up and followed. She couldn’t wait to get Ros’s confession and tell Matt.

Baby Jarvis was alive.

* * *

After a restless night spent in the hospital, Matt sat in a wheelchair under the entrance canopy waiting for his ride. A fucking wheelchair. Hospital regulations, the nurse had said. Which he knew, but actually sitting in the chair, being pushed around when he was capable of walking on his own, made him insane.

The familiar knock of the Buick’s twenty-year old engine sounded—he’d know that car anywhere—and he levered out of the chair careful not to put any pressure on the arm wrapped in the sling. Somehow he’d managed to get out of that mess with only a hole in his shoulder. As soon as he got in the car he was ditching the sling. That thing bugged him more than the wound.

After coming to a hard stop at the curb, momentum rocked the Buick forward and Matt shook his head. His father needed serious lessons in finessing the brake. Still, he laughed, taking comfort in the brutal fact that some things never changed. Like his father’s impatient driving.

“You ready, kid?” Dad asked.

“I am.”

Dad hustled around the car and opened the door, a mile-wide grin on his face. “Let me help you, princess.”

“If you weren’t my father, there’s a phrase I’d use. It starts with an F and ends with the word you.”

Dad, being the grisly retired cop he was, snorted. “Watch your head getting in.”

“Wait!”

Matt swung back and spotted Taylor, dressed in her wrinkled FBI-wear, charging around the side of the building, her blonde hair flying and damn she was a sight for sore-eyes. Watching her run, every curve of that body he now knew so well coming at him, he wanted his hands on her. Immediately. He hadn’t spoken to her since he’d kicked her out of the hospital last night. Sitting with him there wouldn’t bring Baby Jarvis home.

Besides, he hadn’t been up for his family en masse and the questions about the hot blonde at his bedside. Being stoned on painkillers wasn’t exactly his idea of a good meet and greet for Taylor and his crazy relations.

“Matt!”

His father cocked his head. “And,hello. Who’s this?”

“Taylor Sinclair. She’s FBI.”

Dad let out a low whistle.

“Shut it, Dad.”

She halted in front of him, waving her hands and somehow her body, the whole of it, seemed to still be buzzing. As if she couldn’t quite control it. She drew a deep breath and her chest heaved, making her tits bounce and yep, he needed hands on her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve been calling you.” Still breathing heavy, she held her phone up, then tucked it into her pocket. “Your phone is off.”

“The battery died. I don’t have the cord with me. You okay?”

“I’m great.”

Without warning, she stepped forward, grabbed his cheeks and planted one on him. Right in front of Dad.

She backed away an inch and met his gaze, her green eyes bright. Taylor in a good mood made a cloudy day sunny.

“Um, have I introduced you to my father?”