Threads of Suspicion(52)

Evie heard in the question the “we’re partners” tone—interested without prying. She smiled at its camaraderie feel. “It was fine.”

“Hmm,” he said, looking at her more closely. “You’ve been crying.”

She had some, on the drive from her hotel, thinking about the frightening possibility she would make the wrong decision. “No, it’s okay. He’d like me to decide what I want by Valentine’s Day.”

“Ahh.” David leaned against the wall, shifted his weight to get comfortable. “An interesting choice of day on his part. He really wants a yes.”

“I know.”

“Think about it, pray about it, decide,” he said, turning serious.

“If I’m distracted some the next couple of weeks, that will be why.”

“You’d like to push it aside for now, focus on work?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then from experience I suggest you find the thickest report that needs the most concentration and start reading there. While you do that, I’ll take a break and go get a box of Dilly Bars from the Dairy Queen so you can retreat to ice cream and chocolate whenever your mood needs a lift.”

Evie felt a small smile start near her heart. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Cold feet about marriage doesn’t mean it’s not the right decision,” he said, pushing away from the wall.

“I wish that was all this is. You’ve wanted to be married for years, and can’t. It must be odd, watching me struggle to make this step you’re eager to take when the door finally opens.”

He shook his head. “Maggie struggles to take the step to faith that I made so easily. You struggle over the step to get married. Different struggles, but from considering the two of you ladies, not so different at the core. Are you loved, can you love back, is it safe to commit to this forever relationship? You’re both surprisingly cautious, given each of your chosen careers.”

“When does Maggie get into town?”

“Thursday midmorning. She has the charity event Friday night, then it’s back to New York on Monday. She officially moves to Chicago at the end of the month, but movers will begin bringing furniture and belongings to the Barrington home in a few days.”

“Any ideas for a housewarming gift?” Evie asked.

“What she loves are flowers. Find something in a pot that reminds her of spring coming and you’ll hit the sweet spot. Anything else you need while I’m out?”

“I’m good.”

David lifted a hand and headed out.

Any one of the task-force members would have been good company, but David was particularly great, both for the work angle and her personal life. He liked people, liked her, and asked good questions. Evie took his advice. She sorted out the work on the desk and picked up the thickest document, the FBI report, and started reading.





Eleven


The morning’s sunlight was giving her a headache, and last evening’s discussion with Rob weighed on her concentration. Evie rubbed aching eyes as she studied the case board. She was probably overthinking this. It wasn’t hard to find cases that were similar to Jenna’s. She’d chosen fourteen from the FBI report from the last dozen years, plus she still had the three cases the original cops had thought sounded similar. The problem was narrowing it down further.

She was sure she had something here, yet there were too many cases to all be her guy. Two, maybe three, might be his. Assuming—and that was still a big reach—that Jenna hadn’t been a one-time-only crime.

Evie shook her head to try to jar her concentration back into focus. It was now nine o’clock on Saturday morning. She was certainly a touch sleep-deprived, not a good way to proceed to make significant decisions. She picked up her empty coffee mug to get a refill. The only positive thing at present was that none of the photos on the board showed much similarity to Jenna. She hoped that by going through the full files, she’d be able to eliminate at least half of the possibles, which would then leave her with much less to ponder.

“Evie.”

The urgency in David’s voice drew her into the conference room. “Got something?”

“Something,” he replied, paging through a thick folder. “Take a look at this.”

He slid the folder toward her and began thumbing through a stack of thinner folders. “You’re holding the research for one of Saul’s suspended cases,” he explained.

She opened it, found newspaper clippings, scanned through them, and halfway into them realized what David had. “Well, this is indeed interesting.” She was looking at newspaper accounts of Jenna’s disappearance.