“Usually. When we were planning a takedown in a big case, yes, I was there. Nothing like this, though.” She sighed. “I get that Micah is the best person to plan this.”
“And we’re just here in a supporting capacity. Profilers, doing our part by getting proactive. Local authority rules.”
“I understand that, too. It’s not what I’m used to, but I’d better get used to it.”
He laughed and squeezed her hand again. “We’ll have our own big cases, trust me. Statewide investigations. You’ll be in the war room again. Just don’t expect it to be frequent.”
“It was never frequent. Yeah, we did some big investigations, but most of them were the types that cops do everywhere. I’m not expecting major ops around every corner.”
“Good, because most of our work is considerably quieter than this. But I have to admit I’m edgy, too. I don’t like relying on anyone blindly.”
“Ha. You sound like me.” She glanced up at him in time to see him smile faintly.
“Okay, so I like to be in charge,” he admitted. “I’m not the only one suffering from that deficiency.”
She couldn’t disagree. “I guess there’s no sense to just walking around town. I’ll take a few more pictures, and since we left those rolls at the sheriff’s office, maybe we should stop and get some more. Friendly gesture, and I want a sandwich. Not a steak sandwich, just a plain old ham sandwich.”
“And then what?” he asked as they turned a corner in the general direction of their house.
“I’m going to chew my nails to a nub until we hear from Micah.”
“Well,” he said, and flashed her a devilish look, “there’s another way we could relax.”
The laugh that escaped her came easily and naturally for the first time that day. “You’re on.”
* * *
By the time the early winter night settled over the world, distraction was a thing of the past. The two of them were pacing the house, waiting for a phone call.
“He hasn’t had enough time to set things up,” DeeJay said yet again.
“Nope,” Cade agreed as he passed her.
Their time in bed earlier had been wonderful but rushed because they’d both been listening with one ear for a phone call. Neither wanted to be at a point where they couldn’t stop when that phone rang.
DeeJay tried to distract herself by remembering that all-too-brief hour, but great as it had been, larger worries wouldn’t leave her alone.
She had pulled out all the papers again, all the files, and had tried to reread them from a different angle, looking for indicators that she’d made a mistake somewhere, but she kept coming back to Calvin Sweet and the way he was so insistent that they come out to his ranch.
If she was wrong, if they were all wrong, absolutely nothing would happen in the morning. Then they’d be hunting again with possibly less to go on and a whole lot less time if that boy didn’t leave in the morning.
It was seven in the evening when the phone finally rang. DeeJay grabbed it and was almost disappointed to hear the familiar voice of Lew Boulard from the FBI.