Chapter 7

Aiden gripped the steering wheel and stared at Candace’s town house and blew out a shaky breath. He swiped his damp forehead with the back of his hand, as hot and bothered as a kid at his first dance. He’d gone to her house to tell her the results of the K9 search. Just doing his job, right?

Not.

He could've phoned and told her what the dogs had found and asked if she were willing to meet with a police sketch artist. Or he could have asked her to come down to the station and discuss the findings. Instead, he’d gone to her house…at night…alone.

At the end of shift, when Aiden told his partner he was going to Candace’s house to inform her what the K9 team had uncovered, Joe curled his lip and told him to go shoot his wad. He wanted nothing to do with Aiden’s foolish endeavor, and with that scathing comment, and a smirk on his fleshy face, he’d strode out of the station.

Joe didn’t have any interest in pursuing this lead…or any lead for that matter. He was convinced the bloody footprints were a figment of Candace’s imagination, no matter what the K9 dogs had found. He’d made his feelings clear on the subject to the point where Aiden was ready to punch the smirk off the man’s bloated face if he brought up his disbelief again.

Besides, at this time of night, Joe was settled on a barstool at his favorite drinking establishment, swilling back another round of whiskey and boring those around him with his heroic exploits as a renowned Briggston Police detective.

Aiden had spent hours at home, struggling with his decision. A phone call was too impersonal. He wanted to see her face when he told her what the K9 unit had found, wanted her to know that her unease was justified. So, he’d ignored the warning bells ringing in his head and, in spite of it being well past a decent hour for an official police-business call, he drove to Candace’s house and knocked on her door.

A mistake.

A big one.

When she opened the door, she’d taken his breath away. Her dark hair was mussed, the silken strands free of the single long, heavy braid she favored. Her pale-pink, loose T-shirt and baggy pajama bottoms with multi-colored stars dancing across the flannel did little to conceal her curves.

And then there was her scent—floral with a hint of cinnamon. One whiff and his heart started pounding, and his blood sizzled and headed south. It had required all his police training to keep his expression impassive and his hands off her. But like an idiot determined to ruin what was left of his career and reputation, he’d wiped the drool from his face and sailed through her front door.

The entire time he was in her house, all he could think about was how soft her skin looked and how damn pretty her blue eyes were with their sweep of long dark eyelashes.

Jesus H. Christ!

He should've learned from the shit storm that went down in Seattle. If he had any sense left in his brain cells, he’d do the right thing and keep his distance from the all-too-lovely Dr. Cooper. Once she met with the police sketch artist, and he had a picture of the guy she’d seen in the state park, he wouldn’t need her anymore. If anything came up, he could always send Joe to talk to her.

He grimaced. Nah. He wouldn’t do that. No one deserved Joe, not even the most hardened of criminals. And Candace was anything but a hardened criminal. A vision of her long dark hair gleaming like a raven’s wing, her creamy skin and full mouth—

Jesus!

He clipped himself on the back of his head. Only a fool would sit in the dark outside her house mooning like a love struck puppy. If he didn’t get moving, her neighbors would call the cops. He grimaced. And wouldn’t that be something? Joe would have a hell of a good chuckle.

Something was going on with her. That phone call was weird. He didn’t believe for one second the caller was a telemarketer. When the phone rang, she’d jumped a foot, and her face lost its color. She’d tried to hide it, but she was afraid. But why would she lie? Why not tell him if she was getting harassing calls? Add in the overkill lock set up on her front door, and it was pretty obvious she was frightened.

He shook his head. Whatever it was, the smart move would be to leave it alone. Her problems were none of his business. Jamming the key into the ignition, he shoved his foot on the gas, and the SUV roared to life.

He stilled.

The shrubs separating Candace’s townhouse from the one next door were shaking, the leaves trembling as if from a sudden strong gust of wind. He checked the leaves on a tree overhanging the driveway. The leaves were still. Prickles of alarm tightened the hairs on the back of his neck.

A flicker of movement, more branches waving, leaves fluttering, and a large, dark shape shifted deeper into the shadows.

Too big for a raccoon or a neighbor’s dog. He squinted into the dark. A person. Had to be. Every cell in his body zinged to full alert. Someone was lurking outside Candace’s house. He shifted the car into Park and reached under his coat and unsnapped his holster cover.

A car headed down the street toward him. Its headlights swept the lawn and the decorative bushes lining Candace’s driveway.

A black cat yowled, streaked out of the shrubs, and raced across the grass and vanished behind the neighbor’s house.

Aiden released his breath and eased his grip on his gun and slumped back on the seat. Jesus. What the hell was wrong with him? He was seeing bad guys behind every damn tree.

When he joined the Briggston Police Force, he’d read the state’s unsolved missing persons’ files and discovered Amanda Jacobs had been abducted from her home two months prior and was still missing. Missing kids were his weak spot, and since then he’d worked nonstop to find her, putting in long hours after his shift at the precinct was done, working from home on weekends, chasing down leads, no matter how tenuous. He’d driven to Cardion and re-interviewed the girl’s family and friends and followed up on the hundreds of tips called in to the station’s crime stopper’s tip line.

The case was tragic. Fifteen-year-old Amanda had vanished from her bedroom sometime during the night, leaving no trace of where she’d gone. Nothing her parents, or any of her friends or teachers, said, indicated Amanda would've left home willingly. She wasn’t the party type, she did well in school, she didn’t have a boyfriend, and as far as anyone knew, she didn’t use alcohol or illegal drugs.

In the months since her disappearance, the police and dozens of volunteers had searched the forest surrounding Cardion and the nearby mountains and back roads for the missing girl. They’d even dragged the Crozier River that ran through town, and nearby Kluscus Lake.

The citizens of Cardion were on high alert, but no one had seen Amanda, and no sign of her had been found. With no leads to follow, the task force had dwindled, and the case stagnated, as other crimes occurred and moved to the forefront.

But he hadn’t given up. He was determined to find Amanda. Candace Cooper’s sighting of bloody footprints in the snow was the first viable clue he’d had in months. No matter what his partner thought, Candace was a credible witness. Aiden believed her. It wasn’t just his attraction for her that was talking. At least, he hoped it wasn’t.

He yawned and rubbed his eyes. He’d better go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be another long day. With a final glance at the dark shrubbery, he shifted the car into Drive and pulled onto the street.