“Sounds like I’ll need some help for a while,” she said, blue eyes staring straight into his.
“I’ll give you whatever help you need. Getting dressed, bathing, eating.”
“It could be a big job. I’m rather demanding,” Ava stated.
He stared at her. “Why do I not believe you?”
“I can be difficult. I’m very particular about how I like things done.”
Mason smiled and leaned closer. “Then I’m your man. Anyone who has discerning taste wants me to help them get dressed.”
“What are you suggesting, detective?”
“I’m suggesting that you rely on me for a while,” he said softly. “Catch your breath, heal, and see if you enjoy seeing me every day.”
Her eyes widened as his words sank in.
Were they on the same page?
“Ava? Are you in here?” The door burst open without a knock, and Jayne swept into the hospital room, blond hair flowing behind her. She had two bandages on her face from her car accident, and her hand was in a fabric brace.
Mason shot to his feet and stepped in front of Ava’s twin before she rushed the bed. “Slow down!”
“Jayne? What are you doing here?” Ava asked, surprise on her face.
“The hospital notified me. This is quite a switch,” Jayne said with a wide smile. She scanned the bed, the room, the window, and Mason within two seconds. The woman seemed wired for a hospital visit at eight in the morning.
Her pupils were huge.
Shit. What’s she on?
“Usually I’m the one in the hospital bed.” Jayne laughed as if it were the cleverest joke in the world. “I’m so lucky that my injuries weren’t too serious from that stupid car accident.”
Mason kept one hand on the twin’s good arm. Energy vibrated under his fingers. This wasn’t espresso overload. Jayne was blinking too often, and a twitch shook her shoulders, painfully reminding him of Josie on his last visit before she was murdered.
Meth?
“Merry Christmas, darling!” Jayne squealed and tried to pull out of Mason’s grasp to hug her sister. “Let go.” She tugged at her arm, a scowl deepening the lines between her brows.
“No,” said Mason. “Don’t touch her shoulder. She’s had surgery.”
“I’ll just give her a kiss on her forehead.”
Mason slowly let go, and Jayne dropped a peck on Ava’s forehead. Ava’s expression didn’t change. She simply watched her sister.
“I need to run. I could only spare a minute. I’ll call you later.” Jayne waved her bandaged hand at Mason and practically skipped to the door. “Ta-ta, darlings.”
Silence filled the room.
Ava watched the door shut behind her twin. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. She blinked hard. I won’t let her make me cry. She wiped her face.
Mason seemed dumbstruck. He turned brown eyes to her, his lips slightly open in shock. He shook his head, a scowl turning down the corners of his mouth. “And I thought I couldn’t be any more surprised after meeting her the first time. She didn’t ask a single question about your injuries.”
Ava tried to shrug, and pain shot up the left side of her neck.
“She was on something,” Mason stated.
“She usually is.”
Mason carefully sat on the edge of her bed and took her good hand, rubbing her fingers in his grip. “You are nothing like her.”
“I know.” Ava fought to keep the tears back.
“No. Listen to me,” Mason said, leaning forward and emphasizing each word. “You are plumb full of caring. Every damn cell in your body cares about the people around you. Even the ones who are crazy and treat you like crap. It makes you an amazing agent. When I heard you talking to Kent yesterday, I could hear genuine concern in your voice.”
“I didn’t want anyone to get hurt,” Ava whispered.
“Do you think Jayne cares if anyone gets hurt?”
Ava rubbed her nose, searching for a different answer instead of the one that was screaming in her brain. “No,” she finally admitted.
“That woman thinks only of herself. Maybe it’s the drugs, but I believe they only enhance true character.”
He’s so right.
“She’s always been like that,” Ava said. “I’m surprised she didn’t ask me where her Christmas present was.”
Mason’s eyes lit up as he smiled.
Ava’s heart lurched at the handsome sight. Mason Callahan was very special. Honorable. Reliable. Steady. Caring. Definitely old-fashioned, but she loved that about him. She even loved that damn cowboy hat that was always within reach. His offer to stay with her while she recovered had made her nearly cry. Jayne had interrupted an important moment.
“You’re very good for me,” she said.
His smile grew broader. “I feel the same way.”
“I was afraid he was going to shoot you if you came in the store yesterday. I didn’t want to let you in.”
His smile faltered. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to let you walk alone into that den with the lion? I wanted to throw up when the doors closed behind you. Duncan was about to handcuff me so I wouldn’t rush the store when Kent started yelling at you.”
“We have tough jobs,” Ava said slowly. “Time-consuming. Sometimes dangerous.”
Would he hear what she was asking?
Mason’s gaze flickered from one of her eyes to the other. “I’m well aware of that.”
“Can we do this?” she whispered, laying her heart open and bare for him to see. “Can we make it work?”
His hand tightened on hers. “Do you remember asking me if I’ve ever loved someone where the emotion was totally out of my control? Where someone physically feels the other person moving about in the world? That exact feeling is growing inside of me. I’ve felt precisely what you described, and I want to continue to experience it every day with you.”
My words. He was listening to me. Her throat tightened.
“I’m willing to do my damnedest to make that happen between us. There was another motive behind my offer to stay with you while you healed. I was sorta hoping you’d get addicted to having me around,” Mason continued. “You’ve dug out a whopping-sized piece of my heart, Agent McLane. I’d appreciate it if you handled it with care. And I promise to do the same.”
Love for him surged through her.
“Kiss me,” she begged. “And don’t let me go, okay? Promise?”
“That’s a deal I’ll never back out on.”
He kissed her.
ALONE BY KENDRA ELLIOT
If you liked Vanished, you might also like Alone, a dark and thrilling romantic suspense. Read on to follow forensic anthropologist Victoria Peres as she races to solve a horrific new case while confronting the secrets of her past.
1
“I won’t miss this part of the job,” Victoria heard Dr. James Campbell mutter as he held a blackberry vine out of the way for Lacey and Victoria to pass by.
A discovery of dead bodies had abruptly shortened their Italian dinner at Portland’s fabulous Pazzo Ristorante. The trio of coworkers had been relaxing over a lovely Barbaresco when the medical examiner’s phone buzzed. He’d taken the call at the table and raised a brow at the women, who’d nodded. Both forensic specialists wanted to accompany him to the crime scene.
Five teenagers were dead in the depths of Forest Park.
Time to go to work.
The guiding police officer who’d met them at the trailhead commented, “A hiker found the scene about four hours ago. Looks pretty fresh. One of the girls was still breathing and they rushed her to the hospital. She’s not expected to make it.” He paused to take a breath, and the volume of his voice dropped to where Victoria leaned forward to hear him. “I gotta say, this is one of the most disturbing sights I’ve ever seen.” The tough cop looked rattled.
Who would kill so many teenage girls? Victoria Peres shook her head. It was a messed-up world. And working at the medical examiner’s office as a forensic anthropologist showed her some of the darkest corners of that world. The indignities and atrocities that people inflicted on other human beings were mind-numbing. The kids were the hardest for her to stomach.
The three of them pointed their flashlights at the dirt path, choosing their footsteps carefully, following the police officer. Luckily the fall rains had paused for the moment, because tonight the forest was intimidating enough. Firs towered overhead, blocking all light from the full moon. Ferns sprouted from tree trunks, drawing nutrition from the bark and thick moss that draped the branches. Victoria had already given thanks that she’d worn her boots to dinner in honor of the fall chill. Still dressed for dinner, the three of them looked out of place for the two-mile hike in the damp woods. It was rare that she accompanied Dr. Campbell to a scene. Her job usually kept her inside the medical examiner’s building.
But this was Dr. Campbell’s last month on the job. Oregon’s ME was ready to retire. And Victoria wanted to spend every working moment she could with him, soaking up his experience, wisdom, and wit. “I can’t do anything about the death,” Dr. Campbell once told her. “But I can do something about what happens after the death. I can speak for the victims, explain their injuries, and bring justice.” It described exactly how Victoria felt about her job. There was a mutual respect between her and Dr. Campbell that made her cross her fingers, hoping she could achieve the same with the new medical examiner.