chill. March was a cold month in DC, and Brooke hadn’t grabbed her coat. She watched Mercy sniff and weave in and out of the bushes lining the fence. The trees beyond offered a sense of privacy and security, one of the reasons Brooke had purchased the home.
She pulled the door shut behind her and sat on the cement steps, wrapping her arms around her middle. Maybe the cold would revive some of her dead brain cells. Her thoughts were like a dog with a bone. She couldn’t keep her mind from gnawing on the Jeffries case.
Harland Jeffries was about to push Gavin, her captain, over the edge. Gavin was a good man, a professional in every sense of the word. Brooke respected how he had managed to hold on to his temper when it came to the congressman’s incessant demands on Gavin’s time. She stood. “Mercy, come.”
The dog bounded over to her and sat at her feet, ears perked. Brooke gave those ears a good rub and let the dog back into the house. Poor Gavin. He was really torn. She knew he was between a rock and a hard place. He had a lot of respect for the congressman. Harland had been a mentor to Gavin, and Gavin loved the man like a father. It was tearing him up not to be able to give him some answers.
She forced herself to head to bed. She’d count sheep if she had to. Or review the case notes while snuggling under the warm down comforter. Maybe then she’d doze off.
And maybe pigs would start flying.
* * *
Jonas shut the door as the police officers headed toward their squad car. He appreciated the fast response to his 911 call, but the officers had basically checked out the scene, taken a few pictures of the dumped drawer in Felix’s room, then told him to be thankful he wasn’t hurt and nothing was missing. Oh, and to call if anything else happened.
Right.
He sighed and reached back to massage the area at the base of his skull. He needed a vacation. A stress-reducing getaway. But Felix was in school for another three weeks before his spring break.
Maybe then.
He trudged up the stairs to Felix’s room and took another look around. The drawer on the floor, the unmade bed, an unfinished 3-D puzzle of the capitol building. He sighed and picked up Felix’s favorite sweatshirt and tossed it across the footboard of the bed. A pair of jeans and a hoodie joined the sweatshirt.
His eyes caught on the picture on his son’s nightstand. Felix had been about two years old. He was laughing up at Shannon, his mother and Jonas’s ex-wife. It had been a happy time in his young life, Jonas’s life, too. Neither Felix nor Jonas had known the trouble that would come just a few short years away. Trouble brought on by Shannon and her commitment-phobic ways.
Jonas sighed, flipped off the light and headed to his own room. He crawled between the sheets, forcing his muscles to relax, his mind to drift into prayer. Until he remembered the crash he heard. The drawer to Felix’s nightstand had been yanked out and dumped. His heart thudded. The officers had come to the same conclusion he had. The intruder had already been in his house when he’d arrived home. Either the man hadn’t heard him come in and drop into the recliner—or he hadn’t cared and just continued his search.
Jonas debated whether to get up and clean up the drawer or wait until later.
It would wait. He drifted. Sleep beckoned.
At least until the strange beeping jerked him awake again.
Jonas sat straight up, his adrenaline spiking once more. Heart thundering in his chest, he grabbed the baseball bat he’d placed on the floor near his bed and swung his legs over the side. He stood and padded on bare feet to the door.
The faint beeping sounded again. Then all was silent.
Jonas’s fingers flexed around the bat. He grabbed his cell phone with his left hand and shoved it into the waistband of his knit shorts.
More beeping.
Jonas followed the sound into his son’s bedroom two doors down from his. He stood in the doorway and listened.
Nothing.
And then he heard it again. Louder this time. He was definitely closer.
Jonas flipped the light on and blinked against the sudden brightness. When his eyes adjusted, he dropped to his knees on the hardwood floors and scanned the area under Felix’s dresser. Finding nothing, he rose and moved to his son’s bedside table. The drawer still lay on its side. He grabbed the small flashlight and went to his knees once again.
Jonas flashed the light under the bed. The beeping sounded right next to his ear. He lifted the mattress, separating it from the box springs, and froze, puzzled. A cell phone? He snagged it and dropped the mattress back into place. Fingers curled around the phone, he lifted it up to study it. “Who does this belong to?” he muttered. One of Felix’s friends? But why would Felix have it hidden under his mattress? Had he stolen it?
Jonas snapped the light off and carried the phone into his bedroom. He flipped on the lamp and sank onto the bed, his eyes still on the device. Low battery. Hence the beeping.
He touched the screen to bring the phone to life. A picture stared back at him. A woman holding a baby. He frowned as recognition hit him. He knew that woman. He’d seen her on the news, hadn’t he? And in the papers. He got up and strode into the kitchen to grab the newspaper from the counter.
There. Right on the front page. Housekeeper for Congressman Harland Jeffries, Rosa Gomez had been found at the bottom of the cliffs in President’s Park approximately two months ago and the investigation continued to make front-page news as new evidence came to light. The Capitol K-9 Unit had been working the case and the story had stayed hot, the media constantly reminding everyone that this case hadn’t been solved yet.
And someone had just broken into his house looking for a phone. He stared at the device. Could he have been looking for this one?
His thoughts went immediately to Brooke Clark, a Capitol K-9 Unit team member who was working the case.
An officer and a beautiful woman. He pushed aside the personal thoughts and focused on what to do about this phone. Right now, he couldn’t worry about how Felix had gotten ahold of it, he had to turn it in.
And he knew just the person he wanted to give it to.
* * *
Brooke jerked out of the light sleep she’d managed to fall into sometime between her last sip of warm tea and a prayer for divine help in solving her case. She rolled to grab her phone from the end table. “’Lo?”
“I woke you up. I’m sorry.”
Sleep fled. She sat up. “Jonas Parker?” Her heart stuttered. Just saying his name brought back a flood of memories. Both wonderful and...painful. Along with boatloads of regret. The same feelings that rushed through her every time she saw or spoke to him. Which hadn’t been too long ago. Maybe a month? Amazing that she had no trouble pulling the memory of his voice from the depths of her tired mind. But then why would she? She often dreamed of him, their past times together. And they hadn’t even dated. Not once. She blinked. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re working the case about the congressman’s son’s death, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Michael Jeffries.” She cleared her throat. “You
