Kristin Gabriel - Good Night, Gracie

According to Ray’s story, the thug had wrestled him for it while Gilbert escaped out the back door. The gun went off, wounding Ray and scaring the thug away. Zach still remembered coming in that morning to find his partner unconscious on the floor in a pool of blood.

The kid had taken a bullet in the back and it had been touch-and-go for a while. Long enough for Zach to feel out of control, a sensation he always did his best to avoid. So he turned his attention to something he could control—bringing the shooter in. He was certain Holloway could identify him—now he just had to find the guy.

Footprints in the dew-laden grass had led them to a neighbor’s garage, where Holloway had apparently hot-wired a Jeep Cherokee before taking off to parts unknown. Three days later the Jeep had been found abandoned on a back road in southern Ohio, but there was no sign of Gilbert Holloway anywhere.

His best guess was that their star witness had staged a disappearing act for his own safety, not trusting the police to protect him anymore. Zach supposed he couldn’t really blame the guy—though he thought Holloway was a bit of a wimp. One of those computer jockeys who lived, ate, and slept in front of a keyboard and monitor.

Like Zach was doing now.

At least he had a good reason. All of their leads had turned out to be dead ends. The only hope of finding Holloway now was connecting with one of his friends in cyberspace. Someone who might drop a clue as to where the man would hide.

It wasn’t much to go on, but Zach didn’t have any alternatives.

A ding resounded from the computer, signaling an incoming e-mail. Zach sat up straight in the chair, his pulse picking up speed.

Gracie.

His reaction had nothing to do with the case and everything to do with the woman on the other side of that e-mail. A friend of Holloway’s from high school, the two of them had corresponded daily for the past ten years. After Holloway had disappeared, Zach had taken up the slack, pretending to be Gilbert. At first, he’d hoped to catch a break in the case, thinking Gracie Dawson might reveal something useful. After all, it seemed she knew the guy better than anybody.

But he soon discovered she knew nothing of Gilbert’s foray into the criminal world. Zach should have stopped corresponding with her when he realized she couldn’t help him locate Gilbert, but something kept drawing him to her e-mails. Something he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Her witty, irreverent style? The way she made him laugh? Or maybe the loneliness he glimpsed between the lines. The same loneliness that engulfed him when he stopped working long enough to notice it.

He soon found himself caught up in the details of her life and in the woman herself. Zach knew how much she’d loved her aunt. How much she hated working at the bookstore. How long she’d dreamed of going to law school so she could become a plaintiff’s attorney and fight all the injustices in the world.

A noble ambition. One that made him admire her all the more. Zach had tracked down an old high school yearbook in Gilbert’s house to find her picture. He knew people changed over ten years, but she’d still have those same wide blue eyes. That same enticing smile.

He knew it was crazy to lust after a woman he’d never even met—one who lived over a thousand miles away. But maybe that’s why she appealed to him.

Zach wasn’t looking for a close relationship with a woman. He had seen too many fellow officers leave a wife and family behind to risk inflicting that kind of heartache on anyone. That’s why he kept his relationships short-term, preferring to devote himself to his work. Everybody had to make choices in life.

Zach chose to go it alone.

He reached for the mouse, clicking on the e-mail. The subject line read Plan B. That wasn’t a good sign.

Hi Gilbert,

I guess I’m not cut out to chase ambulances. Besides, who wants to graduate from law school when they’re thirty-four years old? If you haven’t guessed by now, the Kendall Historical Society turned down our application. So that means I’ll have to find a new place for Between the Covers in the next twenty days and work there for approximately the next twenty years to pay off all the bills.

But no more whining. I promise.

Did you get your invitation to our high school reunion? Are you coming? It’s been ten years since we’ve seen each other. That’s much too long. I miss you, Gil, and I really need to see you.

Please say you’ll be there.

Love, Gracie.

Zach read her e-mail again, feeling the pain behind her words. Giving up law school was killing her, no matter how she tried to brush it aside. Just last month she’d sent him an e-mail telling about her acceptance at the University of Texas. Her excitement had jumped off the computer screen.

Now she was in pain, though he knew she’d never reveal it to anyone else. Zach just wished there was some way to make her feel better. The same helplessness that had come over him in the hospital gnawed at him now.

Please say you’ll be there.

Zach was so tempted. But how could he fly off to Texas when he had a job to do? Besides, she wanted to see Gilbert Holloway, not him. She didn’t even know Zach existed.

He hit the reply button, then poised his fingers over the keyboard, hating the thought of causing her more disappointment. For a moment, he considered putting off a reply until tomorrow, but he didn’t think he should give himself that time to mull over his response. His strong desire to see Gracie might overcome his better judgment.

Staring at the blank screen, he searched for the perfect words to let her down easy. At least she could commiserate with Cat, Laine, Tess and Trina. He’d read enough stories about them in her e-mails to make him feel as if he knew them all personally.

But Gracie was the one he saw when he closed his eyes at night. The one he made love to in his dreams.

“Just do it,” Zach muttered to himself, hating any kind of procrastination. He believed in taking action, no matter what the consequences. That philosophy had saved his life on more than one occasion.

But as he started to type Gracie’s name, a pop sounded from the computer and the screen went black, leaving him in total darkness. He rose from the chair and flipped up the light switch on the wall. Nothing. The electricity was off. What he didn’t know yet was the reason why. A simple power failure or something more sinister?

Pulling his gun from his shoulder holster, Zach moved into the hallway. He didn’t have a flashlight on him, but he knew the house well enough to navigate his way through the darkness and into the living room. Once there, light from the street lamps shone through the large picture window, illuminating his path. He could see the shadow of the bloodstain on the carpet where Ray had fallen—a daily reminder of how much was at stake in this investigation.

He cocked the gun, then moved into the kitchen. Two voices, both male, emanated from the garage. Zach stopped when he heard a door open into the house and leaned back against a cupboard.

“Yeah, it sucks, but at least we get overtime,” said one of the men.

“Does overtime include the last four hours we spent at the bar watching the Red Sox?” asked the other.

“Hey, I’ll earn a lot more than that if the Sox can win that thing. I’ve got a couple hundred bucks on ’em.”

Zach holstered his gun. He recognized the voices and knew he wasn’t in any danger. They belonged to the department’s technicians, Shawn Foy and Jason Billings. Now he just had to find out what the hell they were doing here.

As the two men rounded the corner, the beam of a flashlight landed directly on Zach. They both jumped in surprise when they saw him.

“Damn,” Shawn exclaimed. “You scared the crap out of me, Maddox.”