Page 19 of Lost and Found

She crossed her fingers. “Maybe it’s empty.”

“Wishful thinking.” Wes unfolded a knife from his pocket and sliced the box open. A single sheet of paper, a black-and-white photocopy of a police car, slid onto the table.

Bailey grabbed Wes’s forearm. Her fingers curled into his muscles. “That’s my driveway. That looks like it was taken from my living room window.”

The angle and the street in the background suggested she was correct, though he’d have to see the house to agree. “Check your security app. See if there’s been anyone entering the house besides you.”

She quickly pulled it up and shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

Wes turned the paper over and read the printed words aloud. “You don’t want to do this.”

“The hell I don’t.”

He would’ve cheered her tenacity on if it wasn’t Bailey. Wes turned the box over and entered the return address into his search browser. “Bogus return address. The street doesn’t exist.” He snapped photos of the tracking labels, the photo, and the message, and sent them to Dean with an explanation. “We’ll figure out where it came from and how it was paid for.”

“As if whoever did this didn’t cover their tracks.” She paced in front of the wall of newspaper clippings. Her skirt flitted around her legs. The more she walked, the angrier she looked.

“Hey, Bailey?”

She clenched her fists as she spun on him. “What?”

“You okay?”

“No.” Her face twisted as if she were trying her hardest to hold back tears. One escaped. “Damn it.”

Her chin dropped.

Wes couldn’t tell if another tear had slipped free. He inched closer. “Bailey?”

Tears had fallen down her cheeks. She tried to stop them, but her lips quivered. “Are you going to tell me to drop Caitie’s case?”

“No.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Wes closed the distance between them, pressed his hands to her shoulders, and squeezed.

“I’m not scared,” she sniffed. “I’m furious. These are angry tears.”

“It’s okay to be both.”

Bailey tipped her head back. Uncertainty darkened her eyes as if she hadn’t considered that fear wasn’t a weakness. “I refuse to be scared off.”

“Never occurred to me that anyone could chase you away. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

Fresh tears brimmed, and she dipped her chin. Inches separated them. He awkwardly patted her shoulder. The urge to pull her close and promise he’d make everything better was uncomfortable and overwhelming. She stepped closer and leaned her forehead into his chest. His muscles clenched. She smelled like flowers and the summer. Like happiness. His chest ached as she positioned herself closer, needing comfort, leaning on him to erase what had made her cry.

Wes breathed her in and shut his eyes. If he could fix everything and eliminate her pain, he’d do it in a second. But all he could do was rub her back. “You’re pretty badass, Bailey, clearing up cold cases, hunting down criminals.”

“If you really knew me, I don’t know if you’d think that of me still.” She stifled a sob and silently shook.

“I know enough.” He wrapped his other arm around her and smoothed his palms over her back. She fit against him in a way that Wes needed to ignore. Comforting her, promising her they’d work this out, that was the extent of holding her. Because if it wasn’t, he would fuck this up in a massive way. “It’s going to be okay.”

“God.” She pressed her hands to her eyes, still hiding her face against his chest. “I can’t believe I cried over something so stupid.”

He inched back and cupped her chin, forcing her to lift her eyes to his. “Eyes, Bailey. Give me your eyes.” He continued when she did. “Something so stupid? A murderer is trying to scare you off his trail because he thinks you’re too close.” He touched her cheek—and realized he was too close. His hand dropped.

“I’ve got nothing. Nothing for anyone to scare me away from.” Her cell phone alarm sounded. “Oh, wow.” She quickly silenced it and wiped her cheeks. “I didn’t realize how much time had flown by. I have to head out for the day.”

He checked the time. It had flown by. “Do you want to get a late lunch?”