“C’mon, Holden, Occam’s razor. Sometimes the most obvious explanation is the right one.”
“And sometimes what may seem like the obvious answer is in actuality what someone wants you to believe.”
“Well, you got your wish. We’re going to chase down your lead and see where it takes us. Just don’t blame me when we end up in the same place we started.”
He knew it was possible Jane was right, but his gut said otherwise. He couldn’t explain the twin bond to someone who’d never experienced it. But he could chase down a lead like a bloodhound, and that was what he was going to do. He supposed he owed Reed a note of gratitude for opening the door so he could walk through instead of having to scale windows in the dead of night. Sneaking around wasn’t his favorite game.
“So what’s your story, Fallon?” he asked, curious as to what went on behind those jade eyes.
She shot him an irritated look. “Are you going to gab all morning or let me run in peace? You’ll have plenty opportunity to flap your jaws later.”
“I forgot that your workout takes all your concentration,” he said, knowing the subtle jab would ruffle her feathers. From what he knew of Jane, she didn’t take shortcuts and didn’t do girl push-ups. In fact, she worked harder than most men. She was a marine through and through. As expected, she cast him a dark look and punched in a higher pace as if to prove a point. He chuckled and did the same. They were running side by side, like a cheetah and a gazelle, except they were evenly matched in skill and strength. Sweat began to drip down his temple and soak his T-shirt. A quick look at Jane revealed high points of color pinching her cheeks as she kept up the pace. At this rate, their hearts would explode, and she was so damn stubborn she’d never quit before him. He didn’t want to show weakness, but running had never been his strong suit. Her legs pumped, strong and fierce, as she kept her gaze trained forward, and he had to wonder where she went in her head to withstand such a grueling workout. Running was a mental activity as much as it was physical and Jane was in the zone. He envied her detachment, her ability to compartmentalize the pain of her burning legs and lungs as she pushed herself beyond most people’s capability. Maybe that was how she had been able to just cut him loose and walk away without looking back. Don’t start that crap again, a sharp voice in his head warned when he went too deep into the whys of their breakup. Ancient history—keep it there.
Just when he thought he might collapse, the ten-mile marker dinged and the slowdown began, not a moment too soon. Another five seconds and he might’ve embarrassed himself. His legs were rubber, but he wasn’t about to let Jane see that, particularly when she looked ready to go another five miles. The only indication she’d labored was the ruddy color in her cheeks and the quick rise and fall of her chest as she wiped away the sweat. She ended the run and popped off the treadmill, calling over her shoulder before she headed for the showers, “Be ready to share this game-changing lead, Archangelo. Time is wasting.”
* * *
Jane stood for a full two minutes under the hot spray, groaning silently at the dull ache in her quads and calves from the grueling run. Why’d she have to push it so hard? What did she need to prove to Holden? It wasn’t just Holden—it was to everyone. There was no grace for her. Being the only girl in a military family dominated by men, she’d had no choice but to meet or exceed all expectations. Hell, she’d been doing boy-style push-ups since she was three. She loved her brothers to death, but they were jarhead carbon copies of their dad, and because she was the exact opposite of her father, it must mean she was her mother’s mini me. She stifled another groan. Why couldn’t she have been born a male, too? Life would’ve been so much simpler. No having to constantly prove her worth or justify her existence. No having to defend the fact that she’d been born bearing a striking resemblance to their mother.
The mother who’d left them all behind.
Sometimes she bore her mother’s abandonment as a scarlet letter simply because she had the misfortune to share the same gender.
Jane indulged in a moment of quiet as the water soothed her throbbing muscles and calmed her ragged spirit. Why was she going on this stupid waste of time with Holden? Why didn’t she just stand her ground and discard Holden’s theory? There was no basis of fact, only Holden’s insistence that something was amiss, and that wasn’t enough to reopen a case like Miko’s. Why? The question pelted her as surely as the water jets, but there was no relief answer in sight. Jane groaned, hating the self-doubt niggling at her brain, cutting chunks out of her confidence. Maybe she should’ve gone to Holden when she had first started the investigation. Perhaps if she’d done that, they wouldn’t be questioning anything now, putting a stain on her reputation. But then, as now, she didn’t trust herself around Holden for too long; he did something to her insides. Too much time around Holden and she started to question too many things, and she couldn’t have that. He put a wrinkle in her life that stubbornly refused to iron out, no matter how hard she pressed. And that just wouldn’t work in the overall scheme of things. Enough of this morose, angst crap. She pushed away from the spray and grabbed the soap. It’s not as if things are going to change.
She’d have to put some ointment on her calves tonight, she realized, twisting her foot in a circular motion and grimacing at the immediate protests in her muscles. That was what she got for trying to show off.
But Holden could handle the challenge, she realized with grudging respect. Most people would’ve quit the minute she upped the pace. A secret part of her was glad he hadn’t. She couldn’t respect a man who couldn’t keep up with her. Did she want Holden’s respect? Why should that play into the equation? Jane had to admit, something about Holden made her want to look twice in his direction. She’d seen plenty of hard bodies during her military career—so much so it was more surprising to see a soft physique—but Holden’s body was carved from granite, all hard planes and razor sinews of strength that made her itch to touch them. Just admitting that to herself sent shameful heat scuttling to her cheeks, and she actually heard her father’s voice in her head ranting about “female hormones” and the pursuant “unstable” nature of all women.
Get a grip, Fallon. Stay focused on the big picture. Protect your reputation in the department and find a way to show Holden he’s wrong about his brother.
She shut off the water and wrapped her towel around her with a grim smile. Sounded like a solid plan. Now get to it.
Fifteen minutes later both Holden and Jane were alone in the conference room ready to work. Despite the fact she’d just run a grueling distance and had just hopped out of the shower, Jane looked impeccable, dressed in a tailored suit and her short, dark hair blown dry and styled. Holden, however, could still feel water dripping down his back from the quick towel off and subsequent dash to the office. Suddenly, he felt disheveled. He shifted in discomfort at the pull of his shirt beneath his suit jacket and took a seat opposite Jane.
She got right to it. “Okay, Holden, here’s your chance. What’s this new evidence you’re talking about?”
Time to come clean. “I lied.” He watched as a storm immediately sprang to life in her eyes. He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture, hoping to ward off the lightning before she incinerated him where he stood. “I knew that if I said I just had a gut feeling, there’s no way anyone would’ve taken me seriously.”
“You lied?” Her voice registered cold disbelief as she stiffened. Jane skewered him with her gaze, saying in a low whisper, “I knew it.”
“Let me explain,” he started, but she wasn’t
