Until then, she believed Ava should financially support her.
“Everything okay?”
Ava started in her chair, jerking her head up to meet curious brown eyes. She hadn’t heard Detective Callahan enter the kitchen. He had a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. She hadn’t seen him pour it or heard the clank of the coffee pot.
Feeling distracted?
“It looked like you were about to rub through the skin on your forehead.” The detective took a sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving her.
Ava gave a weak smile. “Personal email. My sister knows how to get under my skin.” The detective nodded and didn’t probe further. She appreciated his manners. Anyone else would have launched into a hundred questions about her sister. He straddled a stool at the kitchen counter, hooking a boot on a rung, and eyed the bounty of baked goods. His salt-and-pepper hair was still damp from his shower. She’d clearly surprised him a half hour ago when he’d opened his bedroom door. He’d been groggy with sleep.
At least he’d slept. Ava figured she’d nabbed a total of two hours in fits and spurts.
He hadn’t acted embarrassed that she’d caught him half-dressed. He’d politely greeted her and disappeared into the bathroom where she’d showered earlier. His sleepwear, loose athletic shorts and a T-shirt, had shown a man who took care of himself physically. He might grab an occasional donut with bacon, but he burned off any excess calories. He had the leanness of a runner and the lined face of someone who’d spent time squinting in the sun.
Overall, Callahan was a well-put-together package. Excessively polite, fit, smart. She studied his face. She wouldn’t call the man attractive. Instead, he had a comforting weathered look. A trustworthiness to his features that tugged at her female side. Gorgeous men didn’t impress her; she was impressed with character. Callahan had it in excess.
He chose a chocolate-chip scone. She’d pegged him as a cinnamon roll type of guy. He took a bite and smiled, looking at her with happy eyes. “Somebody has been busy.”
“I’ll guess it was Robin.”
Callahan nodded and took another bite. “Any updates?”
Ava looked at her email screen, hitting the refresh button. Nothing new popped up. “They’re still reviewing video from the neighbors. Henley’s photo is on every news network and paper. They plan to interview the guy that Lilian dated. Duncan says he agreed to come in today.”
“I’d like to be a fly on the wall for that interview,” Callahan muttered.
“They want to talk to Jake today, too.” Ava watched the detective’s face carefully go blank.
“I’m surprised they haven’t dug deeper with him yet. He’s eighteen, but I plan to be there.”
“I started to talk to him yesterday,” Ava remembered. “He seems like the type of kid who keeps all his feelings bottled up. I’m worried he’s going to pop if he doesn’t express himself.”
“Yeah, he’s always been pretty quiet. Feels things deeply, though. He’s the kind of kid that brings home birds with broken wings and gets upset when someone is bullied at school.”
“Perhaps he should be talking to someone, then. Someone professional.”
The smallest touch of alarm went through Callahan’s eyes. It was plain that he loved his kid, but he was out of his element when it came to talking to Jake about his inner feelings.
“I can put in a request for a child psychologist,” Ava added.
“He’s not a child.”
“True. But he’s not an adult. I want him to talk to someone who has experience listening to teens. I can only do so much. I’m here to meet the needs of the family, but I’m a bit lost with teens. I only have my own teen trauma to refer to.”
“Trauma?” He cocked an eyebrow.
She waved a hand. “Typical teenage-girl stuff.”
Serious eyes studied her. “I doubt you were anything but typical as a teenager. Is your sister older or younger than you?”
Ava braced herself for the usual rash of questions her next statement would bring. “We’re twins.”
“Huh. I bet that was interesting. My brother’s a few years older than me.”
Ava waited. Callahan focused on another bite of his scone.
That’s it? She didn’t know if she was relieved or disappointed the detective didn’t want to know more.
“Morning.” Lucas Fairbanks entered the kitchen. He was dressed in wrinkled sweats, but his hair was perfect. He grabbed the coffee pot and poured a giant mug of coffee. “Any news on Henley?” He turned toward Callahan and Ava, spotting the mass of baked goods. He froze. “Holy shit. That’s what Robin was doing last night. I thought I smelled cinnamon in the middle of the night.” He grabbed a cinnamon roll and took a place at the table. He looked at Ava expectantly, his bloodshot eyes hopeful.
She shook her head. “They’re reviewing all the tape they got from your neighbors’ cameras. Nothing yet.”
Lucas slumped in his chair, his cinnamon roll ignored. “I’d hoped to wake up to good news.” He rubbed his eyes. “Robin was in and out of bed all night. At one point I heard her bawling in the bathroom. She’s out cold now. I don’t know if she slept at all last night.”
His sad brown eyes reminded Ava of a lost puppy.
“I don’t know if I have any tears left,” he muttered. He picked a chunk of frosting off his cinnamon roll, looked at it, and then set it back on the plate. “Henley loves cinnamon rolls. I’m surprised Robin made them. Usually, that’s something they do together.”
“Maybe it made her feel better,” Ava offered. “An indicator that she knows Henley could come walking in at any minute to eat one.”
Lucas met her gaze, all his emotions suddenly packed away and out of sight. “Yeah, maybe. What’s the FBI going to do today to find my daughter?” His voice was flat.
Ava swallowed. It’s normal for him to be angry. It’s not personally directed at you. “More interviews, pavement pounding, door knocking, video review, computer forensics—”
“They took all the computers out of my business yesterday. Even my partner’s computers. How the fuck am I supposed to run a business without our hardware?” Lucas ran a hand through his perfect hair.
“Don’t you guys close down for the holidays?” Callahan asked. “Who expects their accountant to work Christmas week?”
Lucas gave him a sour look. “Clients don’t give a rip that it’s nearly Christmas. They care that they’ve exercised every possible tax break before December thirty-first.”
“You have everything backed up to a remote location, right? So you just need to rent or buy some new hardware,” Callahan said.
“We’re trying to find out. Our IT guy is on vacation in Italy.”
“Smart guy. Takes the holidays off,” Callahan said with an even face. Lucas glared at him.
Footsteps distracted the men, and Jake shuffled into the kitchen. He stopped and stared blankly at the group. “Henley?” His voice cracked.
“Nothing yet, son,” Callahan answered. “Get something to eat.”
Jake moved to the counter full of baked sugar, his gaze widening. “Mom was up all night?”
“Yep. Hey, you sleep in your clothes?” Callahan asked.
He was right, Ava noticed. Jake was still wearing the jeans and shirt from yesterday. The shirt had picked up a few more dozen wrinkles.
“Don’t have anything to wear,” Jake said around a mouthful of coffee cake. “Airport lost my suitcase and still hasn’t found it. Mom was going to take me shopping . . . and she hasn’t done laundry. I already wore the only clothes I still have here.”
“You know how to shove clothes in a washing machine, right?” Callahan asked at the same time Lucas stated, “You know how to drive to the mall.”
Jake blinked at both men. “Mom said she’d go with me. And I was hoping someone would have found my suitcase by now.”
Ava spoke up. “The airline lost your luggage? Where do you go to school?”
“Duke. North Carolina. I changed planes in Denver, but the airline’s computer system says my suitcase made it to Portland with my flight.”
“That’s the worst.” Ava had lost luggage three times. Once it’d never been recovered. The airline had said the same thing—that her suitcase had made it to its location. Something shifted on her computer screen, and she scanned the new email. “They want to talk with Jake in an hour.” She looked at both dads. “One of you want to go with him? I’d like to be there if I’m not needed for anything for a while.
The two men looked at each other. “You go,” Lucas stated. “I’ll wait for Robin and Lilian to wake up.”
Callahan nodded. “Go shower,” he ordered Jake. “Steal a shirt out of my bag.”
“But Dad, your clothes—”
“Do it. You only have to wear it for an hour.”
The teen shuffled out of the kitchen, his cake in hand.
“I’ve got a Duke sweatshirt he can borrow,” Lucas offered. “He can’t complain about that.”
Callahan nodded but didn’t look at the stepdad. Ava studied the two men. What was it like trying to raise a teen and not step on the other parent’s toes? She knew Jake spent most of his time with his mother and Lucas. What did that do to Callahan’s sense of fatherhood? Had he felt that Lucas should accompany Jake to the interview? Had Lucas’s offer to stay home felt like pity?