Page 21 of Lost and Found

“Maybe we can have three.”

“Maybe.” But God, she hoped not. With the engine off, the summer heat began to cook them. “Come on, kiddo. Forget Mary Ellen and let’s go.”

She helped Matt wriggle out of his buckles. He fell in step beside her. Bailey snagged his hand, unable to stop herself from glancing over her shoulder, then inspecting the bushes lining the front of the house. Nothing was out of place. No dangers lurked in the landscaping. She unlocked the door. “Shoes off and go wash your hands.”

Matt handed her the bag of slime and raced off. Brown slime. Yuck. This might be one of those summer camp projects that disappeared overnight. She set it in the kitchen, walked into the living room, and stared out the front window. This wasn’t exactly the angle of the police car photo. She repositioned. The location was similar, but it still wasn’t the exact angle from the picture out her window.

Her phone chimed from the kitchen, where she’d left it in her purse.

Wes: Are you home yet?

Wes Wilder. Her stomach tied in knots. She would never live down crying in front of him. Worse, on him. But he’d comforted her and made her feel safe when she wanted to scream. She shivered, remembering the feeling of his hard chest and the way he’d cocooned her until she could pull herself together.

Bailey: Just walked in the door.

Wes: That took longer than it should have.

It wasn’t as if she’d told him that she was picking her son up from day camp. She hadn’t really told Wes Wilder anything about herself. Not that he’d asked. Not that she cared. Not that he hadn’t grown more attractive over the years. How had she never noticed him before? Well, she had noticed him. Even married women notice when a gorgeous, six-foot-something, smart, deadly man walks into a room to discuss work. Now that Bailey wasn’t married…she’d really noticed him—and noticed it had been far too long since her stomach jumped at the sight of a text message notification.

She dropped onto the couch, and Matt threw himself on the floor in front of the Lego creation that had more than outgrown the corner of the living room.

Bailey: Are you keeping tabs on me?

Ugh. Did that sound like she was flirting? Was she flirting?

Wes: That’s what you hired Titan to do… So, yeah.

Well, he wasn’t flirting. She focused on work.

Bailey: Learn anything about watches?

Wes: Actually, yeah.

Bailey: What?

Wes: Lots of watches have gone missing during lots of crimes.

Bailey: Oh well. Worth a shot. Thanks for checking.

Wes: But two strangled women were missing watches.

Two images popped onto her screen. Both were screenshots of college newspaper articles. Bailey checked the date. One was three years after Caitie was murdered, the other six. Neither went to the same college, but both looked like accomplished students.

Bailey: NYC’s a big place, but that’s awfully similar.

Wes: Nothing since then. About fifteen years ago.

If they were related, the killer could have stopped, been incarcerated, could have died… Her stomach turned. Ryan passed away six years ago. No. Nope. No way. That didn’t fit the fifteen-year gap. Bailey ground her molars, furious that the thought had even crossed her mind. Wes was to blame for that.

She tossed her phone onto the coffee table and joined Matt. He quickly assigned her to find a tiny block hidden somewhere in the mountain of readily available Legos. Bailey sorted through them and offered him replacement options, but Matt declined them all.

Her phone signaled another text message. Bailey grabbed it. His name made her smile. Didn’t that just bug her to no end?

Wes: Headed out. Door locked.

She ran her thumb along the side of her phone. Wes Wilder was…irritating. That was it. But he’d hugged her, and that was…incredible. She closed her eyes and remembered his warmth. His strength. He’d surrounded her, protected her. In that moment, nothing could have hurt her. The phone chimed again.

Wes: You know what? I think that stubborn streak of yours might be your superpower.