Page 20 of Taken from Her (Phoenix Ridge Police Department #4)

Diana pulled into the overlook, studying the positioning. Perfect for photography, but also perfect for surveillance. Someone could park here with telephoto equipment and observe coastal activity for miles in either direction.

"And Tara’s beach walks?"

"Evening ritual with her rescue dog. They'd walk the tide line, practicing commands and building trust." Lavender's expression softened. "The dog was terrified of water when she first got him. Those walks were therapy for both of them."

As they continued along the coastal highway, Diana felt something shifting in how she processed the investigation.

Where she'd previously seen evidence and timeline data, she now understood the emotional significance of what had been stolen.

Not just three women's lives, but rituals of healing and connection that had been twisted by someone who'd studied them intimately.

"This is different," Diana said, the observation emerging before she'd consciously decided to voice it.

"Different how?"

Diana considered the question, aware that her answer would reveal more about herself than about the investigation.

"I've never enjoyed professional collaboration this much.

Usually, working with others means explaining procedures, managing personalities, and coordinating different approaches that don't always align. "

"And now?"

"Now I'm discovering that your insights make me see things I would have missed entirely." Diana glanced at Lavender, noting how the coastal light caught the silver in her hair. "You're not just providing information. You're helping me understand what the information means ."

Lavender smiled, something warm and knowing in her expression. "Different skill sets, same goal."

"More than that." Diana returned her attention to the winding road, but felt Lavender's presence like warmth against her side. "This feels like...a partnership."

The admission surprised them both. Diana rarely acknowledged how isolating command could be or how her usual investigative approach involved gathering information from others rather than working with them as equals.

"I like working with you too," Lavender said quietly. "You bring structure to my intuition and analytical thinking to my emotional understanding. We complement each other well."

The observation settled into the space between them. Diana found herself thinking about yesterday's coffee conversation, how easily they'd transitioned from case discussion to personal sharing and how natural it had felt to make future plans together.

"There," Lavender pointed toward a narrow access road that branched off the highway toward the ocean. "That leads to the area where Tara was last seen."

Diana turned onto the access road, noting how it wound through coastal vegetation before opening onto a dramatic vista where cliffs met churning ocean. The location offered both beauty and isolation—perfect for someone seeking peace, equally perfect for someone plotting harm.

"This is where we start looking," Diana said, parking where the access road ended at a small graveled area overlooking the ocean.

As they stepped out of the patrol car, salt air hit them immediately, carrying the sounds of waves against stone and seabirds calling overhead.

Diana allowed herself a moment to appreciate the view and the woman beside her whose presence was transforming how she understood both her work and herself.

The rocky coastline stretched in front of them, tide pools reflecting the brightening sky while seabirds called overhead.

Salt spray misted the air, creating a lovely atmosphere around the investigation site where Tara had been last seen walking her rescue dog three weeks ago.

Coastal wind carried scents of seaweed and brine, the ocean's constant rhythm providing backdrop to their search.

Diana pulled evidence collection equipment from the patrol car's trunk—camera, evidence bags, measuring tape, and latex gloves—while Lavender studied the terrain with a different perspective. Where Diana saw a potential crime scene, Lavender saw the refuge that had been violated.

"She'd bring him down this path," Lavender said, pointing toward a narrow trail that wound between coastal sage toward the water's edge. "Max was terrified of waves when she first rescued him. The evening walks were about building trust gradually."

Diana followed Lavender down the sandy path, noting how it provided both privacy and multiple access points. Perfect for peaceful dog training, equally perfect for someone planning an ambush.

"Show me exactly where they would have walked," Diana said, pulling out her camera to document the scene.

Lavender moved toward the tide line where wet sand revealed recent footprints from other beachgoers, morning joggers, and dog walkers. "Here, along the water's edge. Tara would let Max set the pace, stopping whenever he got nervous."

Diana began photographing the area systematically but found herself pausing to watch Lavender navigate the rocky terrain with natural grace.

She moved like someone who belonged in this environment, comfortable with the uneven surfaces and shifting tides in ways that made Diana's careful police training seem rigid by comparison.

"Diana, look at this." Lavender crouched near a cluster of rocks where high tide debris had collected. "This fabric doesn't look like typical beach trash."

Diana joined her, pulling on latex gloves before examining what Lavender had spotted. A small piece of dark fabric caught on the rough volcanic rock, too deliberately placed to be random ocean debris.

"Good eye," Diana said, carefully photographing the evidence before collecting it. "This could be from clothing, but it's positioned like someone placed it here intentionally."

"Or like someone struggled here and fabric tore during the altercation."

Diana studied the surrounding area with new focus, noting disturbed sand patterns and broken vegetation that suggested more than casual foot traffic. "Help me understand the timeline. When would Tara and Max typically be here?"

"Sunset, usually. She'd time it so they could walk as the light changed, when the beach was quieter but not completely isolated." Lavender pointed toward the access road. "The parking area would have other cars belonging to evening photographers and couples watching the sunset."

"So it wasn’t completely isolated, but predictable timing." Diana moved in wider circles, documenting everything. "Someone who knew her routine could position themselves with visual contact but remain unnoticed among other legitimate visitors."

They worked together methodically, Diana's forensic training complemented by Lavender's understanding of how the space functioned in the community's daily life.

Where Diana saw evidence of possible struggle, Lavender provided context about normal usage patterns that helped distinguish significant disturbances from everyday beach activity.

"There." Lavender pointed toward an area where sand looked artificially smoothed. "That's not a natural tidal pattern."

Diana photographed the area, then carefully examined the sand with her measuring tape. "You're right. Someone tried to cover their tracks here, but they didn't understand how this beach naturally responds to waves."

"Tara would have known. She'd been walking this stretch for two years, studying every detail to help Max overcome his fears."

"We're missing something," Diana said, stepping back to survey the entire scene. "If someone took her from here, there should be more evidence. Vehicle tracks, signs of struggle, something that explains how they transported her without being seen."

Lavender moved toward the cliff face, studying the rock formations with focused attention. "Diana, what about tide patterns? If someone was familiar with this area, they'd know about..."

She paused, pointing toward a section of cliff that looked different from the surrounding rock face. "There's a sea cave accessible only at low tide. Tara mentioned it once and said Max was finally brave enough to explore it with her."

Diana felt her pulse quicken. "How do we access it?"

"Carefully, and only when the tide's right." Lavender checked her phone for tide charts. "We've got maybe an hour before it becomes inaccessible again."

Diana gathered her evidence collection equipment, adrenaline building at the possibility of discovering something that previous investigations had missed. "Lead the way."

They moved along the base of the cliff, Lavender navigating tide pools and slippery rocks with sure footing while Diana followed more carefully, equipment bag slung across her shoulder.

The ocean's sound grew louder as they approached the cliff face, waves echoing off stone in ways that would muffle other sounds.

"There," Lavender pointed toward what looked like a shadow in the rock face, but as they drew closer revealed itself as an opening just large enough for two people to enter.

Diana felt something tighten in her chest—not just professional excitement at potential evidence, but awareness that they were about to enter an isolated, intimate space together. The cave's accessibility only at low tide meant complete privacy, removal from the everyday world.

"Ready?" Lavender asked, pausing at the cave entrance.

Diana nodded, following Lavender into the filtered light and echoing sounds of the hidden space, carrying both evidence collection equipment and the growing certainty that this investigation was about to change everything between them.

The cave opened into a natural cathedral, ocean light dancing on wet stone walls while waves provided rhythmic soundtrack to their exploration. And in the sand scattered across the cave floor, Diana could see signs that they weren't the first people to discover this hidden space.