Page 66 of Missing Justice

“We’ll pull security video. He probably took the mask off and maybe we’ll get a look at his face. You never know.”

“Thank you, Officer. I appreciate it.”

He handed her a business card. “Call that number if you think of anything else.”

“I will. And thank you.”

The cop nodded then faced Matt, gesturing to Taylor with his chin. “She shouldn’t drive.”

“She won’t. I’ll get her home.”

As soon as the cop left, Taylor whirled on him, then obviously having moved too fast, swayed sideways. He grabbed hold of her, wrapping his hands around her shoulders to steady her. “Take it easy. You’ve got a head injury.”

“I’m fine.” She closed her eyes. “Moved too fast.”

“I see that. I can also see that your eye is swelling. You’re going to have a nice shiner from this to go along with that bump.”

“We need to get out of here.”

“What’s the hurry?”

“My boss is the hurry. I was on the phone with her when all this went down. I texted when I regained consciousness to tell her I was fine, but now she’s on me. She’s called five times.”

On cue, her phone rang. “Make that six. I’m not answering it.”

“You can’t ignore her. She’s gotta be worried.”

“I texted her. If I talk to her, she’ll scream at me. That I can deal with. It’s the pulling me from this case, which she will most likely do, that terrifies me.”

The grand plan was to avoid her boss? That made zero sense. “Uh, babe, she can still pull you from the case whether you talk to her or not.”

“She won’t do that. That’s not how she operates.” Taylor dipped her head, let out a sigh. “I don’t know how I went from being a rock star to…”

“You’re still a rock star.”

She looked up at him, pointed to her face. “Not.But thanks for saying that.”

“You’ve had a few setbacks.”

“Ha!”

He set his hands on her shoulders again, stroking them with his thumbs. “You’re tired. And you just kicked some guy’s ass.”

That brought a smile out of her. When Taylor gave him that smile it was like Times Square at night.

“Now you’re sucking up. I like it.”

He squeezed her shoulders and turned her toward his car. “I’m taking you back to my place. I probably have a can of soup somewhere. It’s the cure-all. We’ll get some food in you and I’ll put you to bed.”

“We need to go over the leads. I have it down to ten.”

Jeez, the woman didn’t give up. “We can do it in the morning.”

“I have an 8 a.m. meeting that will either save my job or put the final nail in my coffin. I’m meeting with my team before that. If I have to eat, then you have to review the leads with me.”

He glanced over at her, took in the muscle throbbing in her clenched jaw and knew he wouldn’t win. Part of being a smart man meant knowing when compromise was in order.

Like now.