“You have your feelings, and I—” he poked his chest with his thumb “—have mine.”
“It’s not the same necklace, Eric. This is not the same woman.”
“The age is right. My kidnapper was probably mid-twenties. This woman is mid-forties.”
“Eric.” She gripped his wrist. “Liz Fielding is not the same woman who kidnapped you. She’s wearing a similar necklace.”
Licking his lips, he wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “You’re right. It just took me back. Crazy.”
He opened the desk drawer and slipped out a piece of paper. He started sketching on it with his pencil.
“Now what?”
“I didn’t have access to a computer or the internet twenty years ago. Now I’m curious what, if anything, this symbol means. Who knows? The meaning of Liz’s necklace might even lead to a break in this case.” He lodged his tongue in the corner of his mouth and continued drawing.
While Eric took his walk down memory lane, she perused the crime scene photos, checking them against the report. The detectives in Portland hadn’t identified a location where the killer could’ve been lying in wait, but he must’ve done so. He’d had his killing accoutrement with him, a blunt object for stunning his victim, a sharp knife for the cutting and the tarot card for the coup de grâce.
Maybe it wasn’t going to be Liz Fielding that day, but it was going to be someone.
She’d have to make a return visit to the area where Liz had been found and take Eric with her. She slid a glance at his face, the lines set in concentration.
He still made her pulse race, and warm, sweet honey pool in all the right places.
He’d broken her heart when he walked out on her. By the time she’d discovered her pregnancy he’d gone on a leave of absence and escaped to parts unknown.
Even when she’d heard he was back on the job, she couldn’t bring herself to contact him and tell him about Kendall. He probably would’ve accused her of using Kendall to get him back.
Once he’d discovered her notes about the Phone Book Killer, it had completely destroyed any trust between them. She’d been so outraged that he believed Ray’s lies about her, she didn’t bother explaining the truth to him. When she found out she was pregnant, it was too late. He’d disappeared from her life...but apparently not for good.
“There.” He ended the drawing with a flourish. “I’m going to track this down.”
“I hope it does mean something.”
Someone tapped on the door and they scooted their chairs apart as if they’d been cheating on an exam.
Officer Griego waved through the window and held up a white bag.
“Come in, Rita.”
She pushed into the room carrying the bag in one hand and a drink in the other. “Here you go. The other drink’s on the table outside.”
Eric jumped from his chair and took the bag and soda from her and put them on the desk. “Thanks.”
She handed him the other drink and a fistful of money. “Here’s your change.”
“That’s okay.” He waved a hand. “Put it in the lunch kitty.”
“Will do. Enjoy your lunch. Let me know if you need anything.”
Eric tapped his black bag on the floor with the toe of his shoe. “Wi-Fi for my laptop?”
“Absolutely.”
“Thanks, Rita.”
Christina peeked into the bag that already had a spot of grease forming on it. “I hope they got my sandwich right.”
“Hand it over, Sandoval. I’m starving.”
She dug his sandwich and a cone of fries from the bag and held them up. “Where do you want them?”
He took the bag from her, pulled her sandwich out and then ripped the bag open and spread it out on the desk. “Right here.”
She placed his food on the bag and snatched a French fry. “Now I know where all that grease came from.”
“Greasy fries, just the way I like them. Nothing beats those fish and chips at Scolino’s on the Wharf, though.”
She bit into her sandwich and nodded while Eric reached into his bag on the floor and pulled out his laptop.
“I’m going to fire this up and do what I couldn’t twenty years ago.”
“What? Online dating?” She chuckled at her own joke and peeked under her bread to make sure the extra pickles were in place.
“Why? Have you given it a try?” He tapped the power button on his laptop and then reached across it to grab his sandwich.
She almost choked on a pickle. She hadn’t even given old-fashioned dating a try since having Kendall, let alone the online kind. “No. Have you?”
She swallowed and held her breath.
“I don’t think the Bureau would look too kindly on one of its agents trolling online dating sites while working in a foreign country.”
He hadn’t tried it because of his job, not because he didn’t want to. She sipped her soda to avoid blurting the first jealous thing out of her mouth. She had no right to be jealous or to care who or how he was dating.
Their engagement was over. He’d ended it when he found her notes on his father’s case and chose to believe Ray Lopez, a reporter, over her about what she planned to do with them. But she had to be honest with herself. That discovery may have spurred him on, that and the disastrous ending to the kidnapping case he’d been working, but they’d been having fundamental differences about where to take their relationship.
Kids—that had been the fundamental difference. And now they had one and he didn’t know a thing about her.
“Where should I start looking?” Eric flattened his drawing on the desk next to the computer. “Symbols? Signs? Demonic symbols?”
“Try all three.” She pilfered another French fry from his pile and then dusted the salt off her fingertips.
He held a hand over his food. “If you wanted fries, why didn’t you order them?”
“Because there are so many more calories in a full order that you can eat all by yourself than a few stolen fries.” She hunched forward as he scrolled down the page containing websites about satanic symbols.
“Right. When did you ever worry about counting calories?” His gaze darted to his right and then returned and wandered down her body. “Although...”
Prickles of heat danced across her flesh in the wake of his inventory as her body
