Page 6 of Taken from Her (Phoenix Ridge Police Department #4)

Diana accepted the mug, her expression shifting slightly. Where moments before she'd been all business, now Lavender caught glimpses of something more personal—recognition that these weren't just case files but women with preferences, habits, lives that mattered beyond their disappearances.

"You knew them well," Diana observed.

"I know everyone who comes through that door." Lavender nodded toward the memorial corner where untouched drinks cooled beside fresh flowers. "It's not just business here."

Diana followed her gaze, taking in the photos and flowers, the careful arrangement that honored their absence without surrendering hope.

"The investigation—" Diana began when she turned back to Lavender.

"Can wait five minutes," Lavender interrupted gently. "Coffee first. Then we talk."

It was a test, subtle but unmistakable. Whose pace would they follow? Whose rules would govern this interaction? Around the café, Lavender's regulars pretended not to watch while hanging on every word.

Diana lifted the mug, inhaling steam that carried layered aromas. Her first sip was cautious, then deeper as she registered quality that exceeded expectations. "This is good."

"Georgia's blend," Lavender said, nodding toward the elderly woman sitting in her usual armchair. "She used to run a coffee shop and was a librarian in Seattle before retiring here, and she taught me everything I know about reading customers."

"Reading customers?"

"Knowing what they need, not just what they order.

Some mornings call for comfort, others for clarity.

Rarely the same thing day to day." Lavender busied herself wiping the counter, giving Diana space to observe without feeling observed.

"Police work is probably similar—reading people, figuring out what they're not saying. "

Diana's hands tightened slightly on the mug. "Sometimes. Though police work tends to focus on facts rather than feelings."

"That must make community policing challenging."

Diana's posture shifted—not defensively, but with the recognition of someone whose assumptions were being gently challenged. She glanced around the café again, seeing it differently now, not a collection of potential witnesses but a network of relationships.

"The missing women," Diana said, returning to safer professional ground. "I need to understand their connections, their routines, and who they trusted."

"And you think I have that information?"

"I think you have information my officers can't access through standard interviews." Diana's voice carried acknowledgment of limitations that couldn't have been easy to admit, even after their earlier conversation. "Community members might share things with you that they wouldn't tell the police."

Lavender studied Diana's face, seeing the slight tension around her eyes, the way she held herself with careful control. Here was someone stepping outside her familiar territory and admitting that her usual methods might be insufficient. It was vulnerability disguised as professional necessity.

"You're right," Lavender said finally. "They might. Question is whether that information would be safe in official channels."

Diana set down her mug with deliberate care. "Meaning?"

"Meaning this community has learned to protect itself. We share information when we trust it won't be used against us." Lavender met Diana's gaze directly. "As we’ve discussed, trust takes time to build."

Around them, the café hummed with resumed conversation, but Lavender could feel patrons’ attention still focused their way. Her community was evaluating this interaction, determining whether this particular authority figure might be different from others they'd encountered.

Diana seemed to understand the weight of the moment. "What would it take? To build that trust?"

"Time, consistency, and proof that community cooperation serves community interests, not just police efficiency." Lavender refilled Diana's mug without being asked. "And another conversation that happens somewhere more private than this."

Lavender nodded toward the back room, the door visible beyond the counter. "Unless you prefer conducting sensitive discussions in front of an audience?"

Diana checked her watch, jaw tightening slightly. "I have ten minutes before I need to be back at the station. Will that be enough for whatever this is?"

The dismissive edge in her voice—“whatever this is”—made several nearby conversations pause. Lavender felt her community's protective attention sharpen, but she kept her expression neutral.

"It'll have to be," Lavender said, leading toward the back room while Diana followed with the reluctant efficiency of someone fulfilling an obligation rather than embracing an opportunity.

Behind them, conversations resumed with careful intensity, processing what they'd witnessed and what it might mean for the investigation and their missing friends and chosen family.

The door closed behind them with a soft click.

Diana settled into the same chair she'd occupied during their previous meeting, her notebook and pen already out.

"Is your ten-minute limit still in effect?" Lavender asked, noting the tension in Diana's posture as she deftly activated privacy systems. "Community protection requires more than good intentions.”

"Yes. My team suggested I needed a different approach and that standard interviews weren't capturing the full picture."

"They're right." Lavender poured tea from a small pot, the homey gesture contrasting with the sophisticated equipment humming around them. "The missing women were being watched. All three changed their routines in the weeks before they disappeared."

Diana's pen moved across her notebook. "What kind of changes?"

"Tara kept asking about security cameras in the neighborhood and started walking her dog at different times and on different routes. Isabel began varying her café schedule. She used to come every morning at 8:30, but started arriving randomly, always sitting where she could watch the door."

"They felt threatened but didn't report it." Diana's tone held frustration with the situation rather than judgment of the women.

"Joanna asked pool staff to walk her to her car and even changed her swimming times from the same schedule she'd kept for years.

" Lavender watched Diana process this information, noting how she leaned forward, genuinely engaged.

The harsh fluorescent lighting softened the sharp angles of her face, and Lavender found herself studying the curve of Diana's jawline.

"They shared these concerns with friends, with me, and with people they trusted. "

"But not the police."

"Would you report feeling watched if you weren't sure? If you thought it might be paranoia?" Lavender met Diana's eyes directly. "Especially if you were part of a community that's learned to handle problems internally?"

Diana set down her pen, considering. "You're saying they adapted to the perceived threat instead of seeking official help."

"I'm saying they did what felt safest based on their experience." Lavender pulled up files on one of the monitors that contained photos, notes, and timeline data. "But someone was studying those adaptations. Someone who understood how this community responds to danger."

Diana leaned closer, close enough that Lavender caught the clean scent of her soap, and studied the information displayed on screen. "You've been documenting this."

"We've been protecting ourselves." Lavender's fingers moved across the keyboard, bringing up additional data.

"Three different people mentioned someone asking questions around the neighborhood.

Professional appearance with a friendly approach claiming to be conducting research about community safety, local businesses, and women's organizations. "

"Was it the same person?"

"We don’t know. But they had similar methods and the kind of approach that doesn't feel threatening until you step back and see the pattern.

" Lavender highlighted entries on the timeline.

"A dark sedan was spotted by multiple people in the weeks before each disappearance.

It was owned by someone claiming to be from the city surveying parking needs and a 'journalist' asking about community athletes. "

"This level of documentation...it's impressive."

"It's necessary," she corrected. Lavender felt Diana's closeness, the subtle heat radiating between them as the police chief's attention had sharpened from polite interest to genuine engagement.

"We learned long ago that our safety depends on paying attention to details that don't make it into official reports. "

"I need to understand how your information networks operate," Diana said, then caught herself. "If you're willing to share that."

The careful phrasing—not a demand but a request—showed Diana was genuinely trying to adapt her approach. Lavender felt some of her defensive walls lower and hoped she could trust her gut.

"Community members trust me with observations they might not trust to authorities," Lavender said. "Not because they're anti-police, but because they've learned that official channels don't always protect informal communities."

Diana nodded slowly. "My team also mentioned that building trust would take time."

"It would. But we don't have time." Lavender turned to face Diana fully, drawn to the careful control Diana maintained that seemed both professional and personal. "Someone who understands this community intimately is hunting us, and your traditional methods won't catch them."

"What do you suggest?"

"Forming a partnership and having real cooperation—your resources and authority, our networks and understanding.

Not just a spoken agreement, but something practical.

" Lavender paused, studying Diana's face.

"There’s a community meeting tonight. Here.

You should attend, not as an official police presence but as someone trying to understand how we can work together so we can brainstorm as a collective. "

Diana was quiet for a moment, clearly considering the offer. "What would that look like?"

"It means having an honest conversation about fears and observations, information sharing that goes both directions, and recognition that community safety requires both formal and informal approaches."

"My superiors might have questions about non-standard procedures."

"Three women are missing," Lavender said gently. "Sometimes non-standard is what works."

Diana closed her notebook. "Seven o'clock?"

"Seven o'clock." Lavender stood as Diana did, aware of how the police chief moved with controlled grace even in unfamiliar territory. "And Diana? Come as yourself, not just as the chief. People here respond well to authenticity."

Diana paused at the door. "I'm not sure I know the difference anymore."

"You will," Lavender said, watching something vulnerable flicker across Diana's composed features. "Tonight might surprise you."

The door closed behind Diana with quiet finality, leaving Lavender alone with security monitors and the lingering sense that something significant had just begun.

Outside, conversations resumed in the café, but the energy had shifted. Tonight's meeting would either establish the partnership they desperately needed or reveal just how deep the divide between official and community protection really ran.

Either way, Lavender suspected Diana Marten was about to discover parts of herself she'd kept carefully locked away.