“What?”
“A phone with a picture of Rosa Gomez and her two-year-old son as the wallpaper.”
Fully awake now, Brooke swung her legs over the edge of the bed. At the foot of the bed, Mercy lifted her head and perked her ears. “Where did you find the phone?” she asked.
The fact that Rosa’s wallet and phone hadn’t been found with her body had raised a lot of questions. Like had her fall from the cliffs been an accident or murder? And if it had been an accident, where were the items? And if it had been murder, had the murderer stolen them?
Another question: Was Rosa’s death connected to the shooting of her boss, Congressman Jeffries, and the murder of his son? So far, they had few suspects, one being a senator’s daughter, Erin Eagleton. She’d disappeared the night of the murder and her starfish charm, engraved with her initials, had been found at the scene. Brooke was glad that Rosa’s child was now in the custody of his aunt, but so many questions remained. Maybe the phone Jonas had would answer some of them.
“Ah... Well, that’s the problem. And one of the reasons I called you.”
“Come on, Jonas, tell me.”
“I found the phone under my son’s mattress.”
Brooke threw the covers back, wide awake now. “You found it where?” Surely he hadn’t said—
“Under his mattress.”
He had said it.
“And that’s not all,” he continued. “Someone broke into my house tonight and demanded I give him ‘the phone.’ Of course I didn’t know what he was talking about at the time, but now I’m feeling quite sure he meant the one I’m holding.”
Brooke struggled to process everything. “Are you all right? Is Felix okay?” Pain shafted through her. She pushed it away. When she’d met him, Jonas was working as a vet at the K-9 dog training facility. He’d been divorced, with a young son. And he hadn’t made any secret of the fact that he found her attractive. She’d felt the same spark but had smothered it as best she could. Jonas had also never made any secret of the fact that he wanted a houseful of children.
Children she could never give him thanks to a hysterectomy at the age of eighteen. The car wreck that had killed her parents had also killed her dream of being a mother. She swallowed hard and pushed the thoughts away. She’d dealt with this, and she didn’t need to dwell on it or rehash it. What was done was done. She’d moved on. And so had Jonas. And yet—
Over the course of the past eight years, they’d run into each other, but had never exchanged more than a few pleasantries. She’d climbed the ladder in law enforcement and had landed her dream job with the Capitol K-9 Unit when it had been formed a few short years ago. For some reason tonight’s call stirred up old longings and questions about what might have been. And the guilt that she’d never explained why she’d run from him.
“Felix wasn’t here,” he said. “He’s spending the night with a friend.”
“But you weren’t hurt?” She blinked away the past.
“No, I managed to chase him off.”
Relief hit her. “Good for you.” She bit her lip. “All right. I’ll come over and get the phone.”
“Now?”
“I don’t want to take a chance on whoever you scared off coming back. We need to get that phone into the right hands so it doesn’t fall into the wrong ones.”
He paused. “I hadn’t thought about that. Bring your dog. Maybe she can pick up the intruder’s scent.”
Of course he knew about Mercy. Just like he knew she worked for the Capitol K-9 Unit. So. He’d been keeping up with her, too. Interesting. “She’ll be with me.” She glanced at the clock. “It should take me about ten to fifteen minutes to get there.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Brooke hung up, her mind spinning. Jonas Parker had called her. Jonas needed help and he’d called her. Just the thought of seeing him again on more than a passing basis made her palms sweat and her pulse beat a little faster.
Mercy whined and hopped to the floor where she sat, head cocked, ears lifted. Her tail thumped the floor as though to say, “I’m ready when you are.”
Brooke dressed in record time, popped a K-cup in her Keurig and pulled her travel mug down from the cabinet. Time for the strong stuff. While the coffee brewed, she gathered her bag and Mercy’s leash.
Ten minutes later, she was in her truck and headed for Jonas’s house. A fact that continued to make her blood hum and stir the memories of a time she’d tried to forget. She’d been a rookie with the DC police department’s K-9 unit and he’d been interning as a vet at the dog training facility. They’d crossed paths often enough to strike up a friendship. When Jonas had expressed an interest in being more than friends, she’d spooked and run, canceling out on a date at the last minute and then finding excuses not to see him alone again. She hadn’t handled it well, too caught up in her own insecurities and hurt to really consider how her actions would affect him. He’d been embarrassed and hurt and they’d parted ways.
And yet he’d called her about finding evidence in the case she and the Capitol K-9 team were working so hard on.
The pressure was on to find Michael Jeffries’s killer and Congressman Jeffries’s shooter—most likely the same person. Tension was thick, but Brooke had no doubts about her team. They were the best. They’d find the killer. She just hoped it would be before he struck again.
* * *
Jonas paced the den, his heart pounding, his palms slick. What was he thinking?
That he wanted to see Brooke Clark. Vaguely he wondered if he should feel guilty for being secretly glad he’d had a legitimate excuse to call her. Then he pushed the guilt away. His divorce had been final ten years ago. He’d mourned the loss of his marriage, but finally, with the help of a recovery group at his church, realized he’d done everything he could to keep his marriage together. The fact was, it had ended and it was time for him to move on.
Why his heart had settled on Brooke Clark was something that had him stumped. But she’d been the reason he’d sought out the recovery group in the first place. He’d needed someone to tell him it was all right for him to find companionship. Date again.
And then Brooked ditched him. She’d simply canceled their last date and had avoided him until he gave up trying to get in touch with her. And he’d never figured out why. Maybe it was time to get some answers. Even if they were ones he didn’t want to hear.
A car door slammed.
He tensed and went to the window to push aside the curtain so he could see out. As always, his heart did that funny little beat when he saw her. A petite woman in her early thirties with short black hair. She still looked the same. Slightly older, but not much. And definitely still beautiful.
Brooke. She was here. Her golden retriever,
