Justine Davis - Operation Blind Date

“Yes. But she trusts me with him.”

Her head came up then, and he sensed he’d finally hit the right words. “Yes,” she said softly, “she does.”

Again he stayed silent, thinking that pushing harder at this instant would be the wrong thing to do. He’d learned from Cutter that sometimes the best thing to do was just stare them down and wait.

“It’s my best friend,” Laney finally said in a rush, and before he processed the words Teague allowed himself a split second of satisfaction. “Amber. Amber Logan.”

“Pretty name.”

“Yes. And it fits her.” She gestured back toward the shop. “She’s a graphic artist. She did the paintings here.”

“I noticed those. Cute. She’s good.”

“Yes. She is.” He saw her mouth tighten slightly.

“Has she done something?” he asked. “Gotten in trouble?”

“I think...” Her voice trailed off. She drew in a deep breath and started again. “The police don’t believe it, even her folks don’t believe it, but I can’t shake the feeling something’s very, very wrong.”

The police? That kicked it into an entirely different category in Teague’s mind. He leaned forward, sensing she was on the verge of either blurting it out or withdrawing altogether.

“Wrong how?”

She met his gaze, held it. She was committed now, he could feel it.

“I think she’s been abducted.”

Chapter 3

Relief was obvious on Laney’s face as the words finally came out. She looked as if having someone listen to her without that doubt in their eyes, without that expression that told her they were merely humoring her and couldn’t wait to move on, was nearly overwhelming.

She proved his guess right with her next words, spoken fervently.

“You don’t know how much time I’ve spent every day trying to make myself believe that they’re all right, that there’s nothing wrong, that Amber’s just fine and I’m being silly, with an overactive imagination.”

She also looked as if she wanted to hug him. Not something he’d particularly mind, but he wasn’t about to stray into that minefield. Not now, anyway.

“Why don’t you just tell me? Don’t worry about how it sounds, just get it all out there. Then we’ll sort it out.”

Gratitude supplanted relief on her face. She nodded, a short, sharp motion that spoke worlds about what she was feeling. Even if it really was nothing, she needed to get this out.

She continued to pet Cutter, as if she welcomed the distraction. He could almost see her turning over in her mind where to start. He opened his mouth to prod her along, then stopped; he didn’t want to sound like the police who hadn’t believed her, but coplike questions were the first thing that came to mind.

He remembered Terri once telling him she had to work up to the real problem sometimes. And you were a lot of help when she needed you, weren’t you, halfway around the world fighting for people who didn’t even want—

He broke off his own thoughts before they galloped down that old path. And grabbed the first neutral question he could think of.

“Tell me about Amber.”

“We’ve been best friends since third grade. I know her like a sister. And love her like one.”

“Is that where you met? School?” he asked.

“Yes. Ms. Waters’s class. Meanest teacher in school.” Laney looked up at him then, gave him a fleeting smile. “I don’t mean hard, or strict. I mean...mean. And Amber and I, we bonded together in surviving her.”

Now that was something he understood. “Easier to handle stuff like that if you’re not alone.”

The smile was better this time as she nodded. “We had secret meetings where we plotted her absence in various ways, from changing the number on the door of the classroom, to the address on the school. At eight, logic didn’t enter into it much.”

He smiled back. “No GPS in cars yet, so who knows?”

She laughed then, and he felt oddly pleased.

“We were best friends from the day Ms. Waters sent us to the principal’s office for passing notes. Which weren’t even about her, by the way.”

Teague’s mouth quirked. “Why do I get the feeling that that part was pure luck?”

She looked startled, then laughed again. And he got that same little jolt of pleasure out of it. Natural, he thought. She’d been crying when he’d arrived, and he’d managed not to make it worse, maybe even a little better. Something any guy would be happy about.

“But the point is, we were inseparable after that. We shared everything. We poured our hearts out to each other. When I had my first crush on a boy, she was the one I told. When her mom got sick, I was the first to know. She’s the sister I never had.”

“A long time ago, my father used to say there’s two kinds of families—the one you’re born into, and the one you build yourself.”

“Your dad sounds wise.”

“At one time, he had his moments.” He knew he sounded a little odd, but went on easily enough. “He also used to say that’s not something you can pass down to your kids. You have to earn your own wisdom. Usually the hard way.” Too bad he forgot his own lessons, Teague thought.

Laney grimaced at the words. Thinking of Amber, Teague guessed. It was time for those cop questions. He certainly wasn’t about to keep discussing his own family; that was not a topic he lingered on. Ever.

As if he was finally sure things were progressing properly, Cutter lay down. But for insurance, he put his head on Laney’s foot. She seemed to take it as a sign the time for idle chatter was over. Teague saw her take in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.

“When did you last talk to her?” he asked.

“It’ll be four weeks on Friday.”

“That’s a long time, for friends as close as you are.”

He didn’t say ‘female friends,’ although he at least knew enough to realize there was a difference. Girls seemed to always want to be in touch, whereas with a guy he could go for weeks, even months without any contact, and then run into him and it would be like nothing was wrong. Nothing was wrong. But a woman tended to take offense at that kind of benign neglect. At least, that had been his sad experience.

“That,” she said firmly, “is unheard of. For us. We talked or texted every day. Usually multiple times a day.”

“Wow.”

He couldn’t imagine that. It had boggled him when Quinn and Hayley had come out of that mess so tightly connected they did the same; neither of them was happy if they went longer than a few hours without contact of some kind. He teased his boss about it, but beneath the joking was a thread of wonder. He’d never felt that way about anyone.

“Now she’s blocked incoming calls,” Laney said. “I had another friend try, and my mother. Even the police officer tried, I’ll give her that, and she was blocked, so it’s all incoming calls, not just me.”

“Hmm.” It was the most noncommittal sound Teague could manage.

“Look, I know how it sounds. I even understand why the police feel the way they do. On the surface, it looks simple. Woman meets a new man, they hit it off in a big way, then head out on a romantic getaway. They want to be undisturbed, so woman blocks incoming calls on her phone.”

“But you don’t think so.”

“No. She just wouldn’t, not without telling me. In fact, she’d call me and giggle about it for an hour first. And then there’s the texts.”

“Texts?”

“The ones that came after my calls were blocked.”

His brow furrowed. “So you have heard from her? Via text?”

She sighed. “Yes. And no.”

He leaned back. “I think maybe you’d better explain that one.”

“I’ve gotten texts sent from her phone. But they’re...off.”