toward the door. “I’ll see the two of you in the morning.”
“I thought we could take Mel to dinner and see her safely home,” Bill put in quickly, stopping Ryan dead in his tracks.
They were going to have to have a talk. But not right now. Not in front of Mel. The last thing Ryan wanted was for her to know that she still affected him…on any level.
Ryan pinned Bill with a look. One he hoped relayed the depth of his irritation. “I’m sure you two can manage without me. I have things to do. Calls to make.” He turned to Mel. “You have my number. Call me if you need me.”
She nodded, her expression unreadable.
He didn’t want to wonder what she was thinking, but he did. He walked out anyway, paused in the corridor and took a long, deep breath. He had to stay focused on the case…not Melany. He had to keep the face of the child before him…not the mother. It was the child who needed him. Whether she was dead or alive, he had to find her. That was his job. Holding Mel’s hand was not part of the deal. Bill would just have to see to that task himself.
Ryan exited the building and unlocked his rental car. He opened the door, but hesitated before getting inside. He cursed himself for the hesitation. Mel was strong, she could handle this, he assured that irritating little voice in his head. She didn’t need him, anyway. Hadn’t she been the one to walk out? Besides, if she wanted a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold, why didn’t she just call up the father of her child?
He gritted his teeth at that thought. Damn. He didn’t want to feel this. He just wanted to do the job and get the hell out of here.
“Ryan, wait!”
Mel.
He turned in the direction of her voice. She was hurrying toward him, her face pale, her eyes suspiciously bright. Something he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—name shifted in his chest. He stood there, staring at her, until she’d reached him and caught her breath.
“Was there something else?” he growled.
She shook her head. “No, it’s just that…” She paused and grappled for composure. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for agreeing to help me.”
His fingers tightened on the door. Why hadn’t he already gotten in and driven away? His own emotions were too raw and close to the surface to deal with this. “There’s no need to thank me,” he told her flatly. “I’m only doing my job.”
She pushed a handful of silky hair behind her ear. She’d always worn it up around the office. Seeing her with it down like this reminded him of the time they’d spent together. Alone. Intimately.
“I know you didn’t want to take this case.” She looked away, but couldn’t hide the tortured expression that had claimed her features. “You probably think I’m crazy just like everybody else, but I know my daughter’s alive.”
He flinched at the tormented sound of her voice, then grabbed back control. This was business, he had to make sure it stayed that way. “I don’t think anything at this point,” he said with more clinical detachment than he’d thought possible. “And, if I remember correctly, you were the one who didn’t want me on this case.”
Color rose in her pale cheeks as she looked up at him once more. “I was wrong.” She shrugged one slender shoulder. “I didn’t know how I would handle seeing you again.”
An eyebrow shot up his forehead. “Why would you worry?” he demanded sharply. “We have been over for two years.”
She looked away again, and he could have kicked himself. Where the hell was his control?
“I know.” The words were hardly more than a sigh. “But I was worried anyway. We were—”
“Were being the operative word,” he interjected roughly. This was going nowhere. Neither of them needed this right now. “Your appreciation is duly noted. Get some rest, Mel, you’ll need it.”
He got into the car, closed the door and drove away. There was nothing else to say about the past and one of them had to be big enough to admit it.
He just hadn’t expected it to be him.
Chapter Three
Melany sat in Katlin’s room that night.
She’d taken a long hot soak in the tub to ease her stiff muscles. Now, she just sat there, trying not to think. Or feel. She rolled her head, stretching her neck. It didn’t help. Her head still ached, not like before, but just enough to be annoying.
The minute hand on the Little Mermaid clock sidled one notch closer to the hour. Twelve minutes before 1:00 a.m. She really should go to bed. She was exhausted. She needed to sleep. But why bother? If she slept, she would dream. If she dreamed she would have to remember.
She didn’t want to remember. She wanted to focus on tomorrow and the day after that. Focus on finding Katlin. Bringing her home. She moistened her lips and clasped her trembling hands in her lap. She would bring her home. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon. And then she would sit and watch her baby sleep like so many other nights….
Nights she’d taken for granted. How could this happen? She pressed her lips together as the hot tears rolled down her cheeks. She’d seen it happen to other people. But, like the rest of the world, she’d never imagined it would happen to her. When she’d been at the Bureau she’d worked cases so unthinkable, so heinous that she’d carefully locked away the images in some rarely visited recess of her mind. She was a professor of law now. Had put her Bureau days behind her. She couldn’t even remember the names of the victims anymore.
It was one of the most important tools an agent could possess. The ability to separate the facts from the emotions. Don’t look at them as people…they’re cases. Just cases. Ryan had taught her that. But now it was her name…her case file.
Her child missing…presumed dead.
A breath shuddered out. Her gaze settled on the frilly yellow coverlet in her daughter’s crib. She’d sat in this rocker and watched her baby girl sleep the night before…the accident.
What she would give to be able to do that now.
Mel stood, wiped the tears from her eyes and stiffened her spine. She had to do something constructive. Make plans. Clean house. Something. Her gaze rested on the crib once more. She should have taken down the crib months ago. Katlin had climbed out a dozen times already. She was too old for a crib. There were youth beds available for that in-between age when a toddler was too old for a crib, but not quite old enough for a regular twin-size bed. The local super-store had them, she recalled.
She went in search of the sale catalog she’d gotten in the mail the other day. She may as well pick one out right now. She could have it ready and waiting when Katlin came home.
She flipped on the living room light and rummaged through the basket that held her magazines and catalogs. Katlin would love a pretty pink bed. Mel was relatively certain she’d seen a sort of storybook or princess style youth bed in here somewhere. Her little girl would be so excited when she came home and found it in her own room.
Melany paused, catalog in hand. If she came home. That damned trembling started again. Katlin was coming
