Page 31 of Lost and Found

Matt had a toy drone and could maneuver it deftly. “Is this good news or bad? Good, I guess. Because he didn’t figure out a way to sneak inside undetected.” But that didn’t exactly feel like great news.

“Neither, really,” Dean said. “However, it tells us that he’s intelligent and close enough that he could reach your house within a reasonable amount of time, spot the police car parked in front, and revamp his plan.”

“Why would anyone go through the trouble to do this?” Bailey leaned back in her chair. “They could get caught. They could just wait me out. It’s not like I’ve figured out who did it with even half the stories I’ve worked on. The odds are in their favor to stay away.”

Wes’s gaze tracked to the whiteboard where he’d written the other cold cases. “Unless there’s more that he’s worried you might stumble upon.”

“Like what?” Dean asked.

“I’m sending you two names of college kids killed within a few years of Caitie. Can you get us crime scene pictures and police reports for them?”

“Sure,” Dean said.

“And anything related to the cases with the missing watches.”

“Anything in particular that you’re looking for?”

Wes stroked his stubble. “Nothing that I’ve fleshed out yet.”

“Give me a couple hours, and I’ll send it your way.”

Wes ended the call. “I want to see if we can make a connection between any of these cold cases.”

“Sure.” She checked the time and jumped up. “Shoot.” She would be late if she didn’t hustle. “Sorry. I have to head out. Lock the door behind you like yesterday?”

He gave her a quizzical look but nodded as she hurried away. Tomorrow she’d definitely tell Wes about Matt.

Chapter Seven

Wes leaned back from his laptop. The case files Dean sent over covered a lot, but the more Wes tried to connect Caitie, the sorority girl, and the bio major, the more obvious it became: the cases weren’t related.

Tomorrow, he’d dive into the Apple Watch and the Tag Heuer case files, but he’d likely find himself trying to make connections where none existed. Again.

Bailey’s empty chair sat across from him. Why the hell had he asked if she was dating someone? Don’t lie to yourself. He’d asked because he wanted to know, and he wanted to know because… she consumed his thoughts.

That made little sense. He had always blamed Bailey, except now he realized he’d cast her as the scapegoat, and he couldn’t hold a grudge against her anymore without also acknowledging that would be a first-class dickhead move. A dickhead who had turned himself inside out thinking of the way she always asked why, and how she stood her ground, not to mention the lusciousness of her generous ass and breasts. He couldn’t ignore the way her soft blue eyes brightened when she was excited or interested or staring at him in a way that was as sexy as the way she toyed with her bottom lip.

Hell.

He needed to get a grip. Wes jumped out of his chair. Working alone was getting to him. That was why his mind slingshotted back to Bailey with every breath. No other reason. Wes just wanted to spitball ideas and bring case files to life. If he wanted to spend his life working in an office, he wouldn’t have worked for Titan Group.

Wes reached for his phone. Bailey needed an update. But he stopped mid-text and pulled up the address that Vivian had sent for Bailey. He was out of his damn mind for even considering an unannounced visit. A little voice in the back of his mind questioned his sanity—loudly—and demanded Wes head straight to his hotel. He could swim laps or sprint on the treadmill. Hell, he could lock himself in his hotel room and stay put.

But nope. Wes ignored the little voice and the list of good ideas on how to spend his time. He locked up and headed to his truck without a game plan. She might not even be home. Bailey could have company. She probably didn’t want to see him. But a few minutes later, he turned onto her tree-lined street, questioning what the hell he was doing.

A police cruiser sat at the front of a driveway wide enough for two cars. Wes pulled in and rolled down his window. The cruiser’s window rolled down. An officer eyed him suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

Probably not. Wes didn’t know why he was there, so he couldn’t answer, and because of that, he rambled, introducing himself and adding that Bailey wasn’t expecting him but might not kick him to the curb. All in all, he made zero headway with the officer.

If the roles had been reversed, Wes would have the same reaction. “I’ll call her.” Which would have been the correct thing to do before he rolled up to her house.

The officer’s gaze tracked to the side. Wes followed his attention toward the house. Bailey stepped out the front door, and his heart stuttered. She’d changed into a sundress that fell to her bare feet, making her look like a goddess, her dark hair tossed into a messy bun. She slapped her hands on her hips, and he could almost hear her growling.

“I don’t know if she’s that happy to see you,” the officer said. “But she’s not signaling that I should send you packing.”

Wes let out a remorseful groan. “Yeah, I should’ve called first.”

“Judging by that face she’s making, yeah, buddy. You should have.”