but I’m heading out to his house to interview him after I leave here. I want you to come along and assess Sarah.”
Just like old times—unpleasant ones. Don’t go there. Why, Lord, are you doing this? “Do you want to hear the message?”
“Yes.”
“I’d give you the tape, but I use an answering service.” The second time she heard it Jocelyn was even more convinced Leah was in trouble. Was it due to her husband’s suicide or something else? Where did Sarah fit into this? Had the child heard or seen something she shouldn’t have?
“Why would she call you? Isn’t Shelby Mason her closest friend?”
“My, you have been busy. How long have you been in town?”
“A few hours.” He captured her gaze, intensity pouring off of him. “You aren’t seeing Leah professionally, are you?”
Clenching her teeth, she curled her hand around her pen until it dug into her palm. “No. We’re friends, but lately she has used me more and more as a sounding board when something’s bothering her.”
“What was she bothered by, and don’t tell me it’s confidential because she isn’t a client.”
“Her marriage. She and Earl were having trouble.”
“The kind that could drive her to kill her husband and leave her child?”
“I told you I can’t see Leah doing anything like that.”
“Leave her child or murder her husband?”
“Both.” Before she snapped her pen in half, Jocelyn placed it on top of the folder she was working on.
“You, better than most, know that when people are pushed too far, they are capable of doing something you’d never think they could.” Sam rose, hovering in front of her desk. “Will you come with me to Clint Herald’s?”
She wanted to say no, not be dragged into the seedy side of life that had taken up so much of her time in New Orleans, but she couldn’t. Leah was a friend. Shelby, Leah and she had once been a tight threesome in high school. What if she was in trouble and needed her help? “Yes.”
“Thanks, I appreciate it.”
The formal tone returned to his voice and bearing, and she grasped it like a life preserver. So long as he kept things professional, she would be able to help Leah—that was, if she could keep herself from remembering her and Sam’s past relationship.
She locked her office and trailed him to the parking lot at the side of the building. He headed for his black nondescript sedan.
“I’ll drive myself.” Jocelyn paused a few feet from her yellow T-bird.
Over the top of his vehicle he studied her for a moment, then shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll follow you, since I’m not familiar with Loomis.”
When she pulled out onto Main Street, she noticed the sheriff coming out of the pawnshop with several plastic bags, probably full of evidence. Seeing them brought to mind the other child from her past—the one she hadn’t been able to save.
His hands tight on the steering wheel, Sam kept sight of the yellow Thunderbird a few yards in front of him. He’d known that Jocelyn had left New Orleans for a job in a Louisiana town north of the city, but he hadn’t been prepared to see her again today—and worse, needing to work with her.
Being with her brought back the memories of the last case they’d handled together. For several seconds the image of the little five-year-old boy’s body, bruised and beaten, and the horror on Jocelyn’s face at the sight flashed across his mind like a strobe light. Jocelyn’s reaction drew his own repulsion to the foreground. He’d almost quit his job.
He gripped the wheel until his hands ached. He hadn’t found the child in time, and that would haunt him for the rest of his life. It flashed in his mind alongside his own younger brother’s face the last time he’d seen him twenty-five years ago.
He shook his head to clear the disturbing images as Jocelyn turned into the driveway of an older two-story house with huge oaks dripping Spanish moss standing sentinel in front. Parking behind her, Sam shut down his thoughts of the past. He couldn’t let anything cloud his judgment while working the case. He’d concentrate on solving it soon and be gone from Loomis.
After joining Jocelyn on the porch, he leaned around her and pressed the bell. She kept her gaze trained forward, the silence between them taut. Her faint scent of vanilla tempted him with memories. The sight of her long blond hair, free from the usual clasp at her nape, billowing about her shoulders or the feel of her soft hand in his…
A click wrenched him back to the present. Relieved when the door opened to reveal a large man with dark features and a grim expression on his face, Sam pulled out his badge. “I’m Special Agent Pierce with the FBI. I’m here to look into your sister’s disappearance and wonder if we could have a word with you.”
“I’m glad someone is finally taking this seriously. I couldn’t get the sheriff to listen to me yesterday when I told him that Leah wouldn’t leave Sarah unless something bad had happened to her.” Clint stepped to the side to allow them into his house. “Come in. And hi, Jocelyn. I was just about to put Sarah down for a late nap. I’ll take care of that and then we can talk.”
“I thought Jocelyn could inter—talk with your niece.”
“Why? Sarah was here when Leah went missing.”
“But Sarah was at the apartment at the time of her father’s death.” Sam stuffed his badge back into his pocket.
“She’s only three. She can’t tell you anything!” Clint’s voice roughened as he shifted his gaze to something behind Sam.
Sam glanced back. A little girl with blond hair and sea-green almond-shaped eyes came out of a room and rocketed toward them. Holding a blanket and sucking her thumb, Sarah latched on to her uncle’s leg and buried her face against him, occasionally peeking up at Jocelyn.
“Clint, I’d love to put Sarah down for a nap. She’s stayed with me some when Leah needed a sitter. That way you and Sam can talk.”
“But, she—” Clint settled his hand on Sarah’s shoulder as though he would keep her glued to his side.
“Don’t worry. Sarah and I are good buddies.”
Clint stared at Jocelyn for a long moment, then nodded. “I know.”
She knelt next to the little girl and held out her hand. “Sarah, I’d love to see your room. Will you show me?”
The child clung to her uncle for a few more seconds, then walked over to Jocelyn. Jocelyn rose with Sarah in her arms. “Which way?”
Clutching her blanket, Leah’s daughter took her thumb out of her mouth and pointed toward the staircase.
Jocelyn left Sam alone with Clint, who watched his niece disappear up the stairs. Sam knew firsthand how traumatic it was when a family member went missing. That was why he was part of the Missing Persons
