Page 123 of Snowbound Threat

“Are you going to ask one of the guys you know? The Hunts?”

I shake my head. I’d considered calling Tucker Hunt or Elijah Breeth for help. They’re both computer whizzes I’m sure couldhelp me narrow down the location of this. But both men have young families to care for, and the last thing I want to do is drag them into this. Especially when I have no idea what’s waiting for me.

“There’s a detective I know who works in Seattle. I’m going to see if he knows first. Maybe do some digging myself. If I can’t find anything, then I may call in the reinforcements.”

“Hold up.” She sets down the coffee mug she’d picked up. “Are we talking about a certain detective you went on a date with a few years back?”

“One and the same,” I reply.

“I thought he was—and I believe I’m quoting you here—‘arrogant and self-absorbed’?”

“He’s a great cop,” I reply. “Whether or not our date went sideways is irrelevant.” I won’t admit to her that I’m actually excited to see him again, even if it’s in such crummy circumstances. There was this spark between us, and I’ve never been able to forget it.

Not after our terrible first date or in the two years of no contact since.

“Uh-huh.” Carly picks up her coffee again and takes a drink. “Do you want some company? I can take a few days off.”

“Nah. I’ll let you know if that changes, but right now, I think it’s better if I go alone.”

“With super cute detective man backing you up.” She grins at me, and I roll my eyes.

“A professional visit. He’s the only cop I know out there and the only one I’d trust to look into this.”That is, if he agrees.It’s entirely possible I’ll get out there and he’ll tell me to get back on the next plane and go back to Boston.

Every P.I. I’ve hired to investigate his death has done the exact same thing. Shown up with a sad look on their face and told me,“Sorry, there’s nothing. Here’s the bill.”

I got so tired of failing that I put it on the back burner, and now, here I am. Over a decade later. Finally with some proof that I’m not crazy.

“What are you going to do if he doesn’t agree to help?”

“Then I’ll go to the Hunts. Either way, I’m not letting this one go. Someone out there has answers, Carly, and I want them.”

4.Shawn

With my coffee in hand, I leave the parking lot and start the short walk toward the precinct. It’s nearly eight in the morning, and after a night of very little sleep, I’d had to fight the urge to call in today and stay home. It’s been a long time since I took a vacation.

Maybe I could take Ma somewhere. Someplace she’s always wanted to go but has never been.

Could be fun.

As I shove one hand into my pocket, I head down the street, my thoughts on what I’ve got going on today. Which, hopefully, will remain nothing but paperwork. As much as I hate doing it, not getting called out means no one died. I’ll deal with the boring over having to deliver horrible news to loved ones any day.

The doors to the precinct open as I climb the stairs, so I rush forward to grab one of them. As I’m pulling it open, a man stumbles out and slams into me, knocking my hot coffee right into my chest.

“Hey!” I yell as scalding hot coffee dumps all over me, courtesy of the drinking spout I’d left open while walking. It stings against my skin, and I grip the front of my shirt to tug it away from my chest.

“Oh, man! I’m sorry!” The kid is probably no older than nineteen, but the panic on his face when he sees the badge hanging around my neck means he’s likely been in some trouble lately. “My bad! It was an accident. Here.” He offers me a handkerchief from his pocket—who carries those anymore?—but I shake my head.

“No, thanks. It’s fine. Have a nice day.” I growl the words because what Iwantto do is rip the kid a new one for not looking where he was going.

That won’t do anyone any good, though. And since it’s my fault for not closing the lid, I continue forward, my now-empty mug in hand.

What. A. Waste.

Lord, help me through this day. I’m trying—I really am.

“You look delightful, partner,” Anderson comments as he falls into step beside me.

“Feeling delightful,” I snap. “Anything new cross the desk this morning?”