Page 16

His chest tightened. Shoulders tensed. Emotion, fear, and panic didn’t normally grip him and, for the most part, had been trained out of him. But this was Jo, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his head about him.

“What happened to you staying at the lodge?” he asked. “You have space there, don’t you?”

“When I’m working and it’s busy, they want me on the grounds, yes. But I like my own private space, and you can see why, can’t you?”

“I can, yes.” He looked at Jo—her big brown eyes and long dark hair—a true beauty and she had no idea, which made her all the more appealing.

She moved to close the curtains, and he joined her, assisting in covering the panoramic view of the rainforest. He could barely make out the giant moss-covered vines hanging in a tangled display.

Rain suddenly lashed the window, and they both jumped back, startled. A laugh burst from Jo, then she scrunched her face up with an apologetic look and shrugged. He wanted to join in the laughter and have fun with her—like they used to.

But now wasn’t the time. “That wasn’t funny.”

Even if it was only the rain catching them off guard. She approached with that lazy grin that he’d always liked, and maybe even loved.

Her warmth suffused him, and he wanted to take her in his arms like he’d done before, but he kept his hands to himself. The wind rustled the trees outside and creaked through the small space. She’d turned on the flames in the gas fireplace, ramping up the cozy feel.

“It was a dark and stormy night,” she said with a dramatic tone. “You know, the first line of some novel that’s now cliché. I mean, the line, not the novel.”

She loved reading mysteries. Now she was in one.

Cole couldn’t allow himself to get sucked into the ambiance.

Standing here with beautiful, captivating Jo—who was happy to fix toilets and called a wrench “Little Jo” and who was in a playful mood tonight—drove him crazy inside.

This woman might be more than he could resist. But he could try.

He moved to the small writer’s desk against the wall. “Tell me about these pictures you’ve sketched.”

“Sure. Coffee’s ready,” she said. “Want some?”

“Not yet.”

She joined him at the desk, and Cole snatched up the images. “The eyes from the ferry killer.” He let that one slide onto the desk, then examined another sketch. “What about this face? Who is this?”

“A face I kept working on until I got it right, I think. I can’t be sure.”

“What’s the context?”

“Michigan. After Mom died. I felt threatened.”

“You were followed, attacked, and then someone trashed your home. You didn’t just feel threatened. And you have a face. Did you show this to the police?”

“No. I didn’t see the face of the guy who threatened me.

If I could have seen his face, he’d be arrested, charged, and hopefully incarcerated.

I can’t know if my stalker-attacker was responsible for Mom’s death, but it would fit that context.

But this face, I don’t know if it’s that guy or not.

He could be a stranger I saw on the street, so I’m not sure.

Some faces interest me, and so to keep up my skills, to practice, I draw them, sometimes even from memory.

I expect victims to remember, so I try to remember too. ”

“Then why did you say the drawing had to do with feeling threatened?”

“It was during that time that I drew the face. I can’t tie it to anything.”

Interesting how her mind worked. “That’s impressive, really.” He let the image drop. “And just so you know, Jo, yes you told me about what happened, but I already knew much of it.”

She looked at him long and hard. “So you really have read the reports on not just Mom’s case but my reports on someone stalking me?”

He might have memorized every word. He was that determined to save Jo from the danger that stalked her. “So why didn’t you show this to the police anyway? The face could be related.”

“Well, for one, I hadn’t completed the drawing.

I only recently finished it. It’s just something that has been coming to me piece by piece.

I have to draw faces and images to get them out of my mind.

I plan to show the face to the detective tomorrow.

See if he recognizes him. He could put it in the computer software too, but to be recognized, the person has to be in the system somewhere, on social media maybe. It’s not a perfect system.”

“I could let Allison work on it.”

“Allison? That’s your tech and intelligence assistant?”

“Yes.”

Jo angled her face and studied him. “You’ve known her a long time?”

He’d met Allison in the Army, and she’d been a lifeline. “She had my back last year.”

Jo pursed her lips.

“It’s not like that,” he said. “I don’t ever see her. We work together. She has a boyfriend.”

Jo scrunched her face. “It’s not any of my business, really.”

But she’d asked. Cole had seen the spark of jealousy, and he wanted to dispel that. Didn’t he? That she was jealous told him she might still be into him. She’d been giving mixed signals, pushing him away, and tonight she was a little bit flirty.

She snatched up the image of the man again. “Go ahead and take a picture so you can send it to Allison. Maybe she can figure out who this is. Probably nobody since they supposedly have found their suspected killer.”

He quickly took a picture of the sketch and forwarded it on to Allison.

“They have only identified a possible suspect based on a tip. They haven’t located him yet.” He took her hand and turned her to face him. “I wish I could tell you that you’re safe now.”

She didn’t resist and stared up at him. He brushed the hair off her shoulder, loving the feel of the soft tendrils. That was a mistake.

With a sharp intake of breath, she stepped back. Her gaze flicked from him to the next picture on her desk.

“Thanks, Cole. For everything. Really.”

She’d already thanked him. No need to keep doing that. He was just glad he’d been there.

And he was glad she was trying to put his focus back on the pictures. He shuffled the images to look again at the eyes behind the hood on the ferry killer.

“Any chance you can create the rest?” In the short time he’d known her, he’d easily seen her extraordinary talent.

Detective Wilson had mentioned she’d been like her mother in her gift—it was like a gift from God, he’d said.

Not every artist could do what Mira had done, and Jo was equally as gifted.

The department had been sorry to lose two forensic artists in a few short weeks.

Artists who had helped them solve crimes.

“I’m not sure.”

“If given the chance, Jo, would you go back to work as a forensic artist?” he asked.

“Maybe.” She was the one to study the next sketch.

The dangerous off-limits bridge over the Pulsap River near the coast. She chewed on her lip.

“What is it?” he asked.

Before she could reply, his cell rang. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Allison.” Then answered. “Allison?”

“Glad I caught you,” Allison said.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m young and healthy, and this cold feels barely there. I’m on the mend. Don’t worry about me. I called because I’ve got the information on Advanced Technologies.”

“Good. Let me put you on speaker.” He set the cell on the table. “Jo’s here too. Go ahead.”

“Oh, hello, Jo. Nice to meet you. I’ll get right to it then.

AT—Advanced Technologies—is involved in researching and developing products for the air, sea, and space sectors.

They’re headquartered in Seattle but have additional facilities in Nevada, California, and Texas.

Oh, and they’re looking for manufacturing and test engineers, software engineers, in case you were interested.

I wonder if Mr. Dodge visited for an interview.

He’s a mechanic as far as you know, right?

Maybe he’s got some engineering experience in his background. Just a thought.”

And a big stretch, unless there was more to Raymond Dodge. Cole had asked Allison to look into Jo’s father in addition to Advanced Technologies. Maybe she had information on him but was holding back to learn what Jo might say.

Jo gave him a look. She’d asked him to focus on her mother’s investigation. If he was going to protect her, he needed to look into her father too.

“Interesting.” Cole held Jo’s gaze, willing her to just hold on. “Does that mean anything to you, Jo?”

She shrugged, looking confused. “I have no idea. Maybe he has a friend there and was meeting him for lunch.”

“Right after leaving you a note that sounded like he was gone for good,” Cole said, “and warning you about danger.”

Jo’s mouth flatlined at the news. Obviously confusing to her as well.

Cole should wrap it up quickly. “Okay, thank you, Allison. Anything else?”

“Well, yes, there is. I’m not sure this isn’t for your ears only.”

“I’m sorry.” Cole sent Jo an apologetic look.

“It’s okay. I’ll just get us that coffee I made.” She moved to the kitchen three steps away.

He snatched up the cell and took it off speaker, then put some space between them, standing at the door. He peeked out into the stormy night. Though partially illuminated by the porch light, the trees were barely visible as they swayed in the wind.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s about Jo’s father.” Allison hesitated and sighed.

“You wanted me to run backgrounds on him, and I dug deep. I don’t believe that Raymond Dodge is his real name.

I’ve looked into his background. I’ve been working for you, doing this specifically, and sometimes for the intelligence communities at large.

I know the signs. If the government or some agency had done this, he would have at least a fake background, which I could spot, but not even that exists.

He wasn’t planning on anyone digging. He probably made sure he never gave them a reason to look, even avoiding social media and hiding with his alias. So in that way, he was smart about it.”

“Until Jo.”