One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

“Not really, but I’ll tell her when the time is right. I don’t want her to be afraid.”

Sitting forward again, I pull up the report for our Houston client and read over what’s still outstanding. A full system analysis is due Friday. I lost a significant portion of last week searching all the police databases for information on Miss Black.

“If I pull some extra hours, I can have Houston wrapped up and out of here by Wednesday.” I start a log on my desktop of what’s still outstanding, what jobs are lined up next, and what I can handle from Wilmington in case I can’t get back right away.

Nikki’s thank you gift can be a week off with pay, maybe a Spa Finder mini-holiday. In the middle of planning my getaway, I realize Patrick is still on the line.

“Sorry to keep you in a holding pattern.”

“No worries. I can tell this is serious. Somehow. Even though you haven’t told me any details.”

Patrick can turn any situation into a joke, and I alternate between being pissed and being glad about it. At the moment, I’m too focused on closing the office and getting to Wilmington to lose time on it.

“I’ll tell you everything when I get there. Just keep your eyes on Mel.”

“She’ll be as protected as the crown jewels.”

It doesn’t satisfy the tightness in my chest. “Maybe Elaine could invite her to stay in your guest room til Thursday.”

“You’re joking, right? You know Mel won’t leave that cottage without a mandatory evacuation order.”

Studying my notes, I wonder how many boxes I’d have to pack if I left for Wilmington today. No, I have to wrap up this damn Houston case here, where I can focus.

Frustrated, I push the laptop back on my desk. “We’re professionals, dammit. Get creative.”

He laughs

. “What would work if you were Melissa? I’d say we invite her over for dinner and mix her drinks too strong, but she’s pregnant. And even if she were still drinking, we couldn’t keep the party going for three nights. Just tell her what’s up.”

“If I can be there on Wednesday, I will.”

“Fine, but will you at least tell me what’s going on? Who is Jessica Black? Or who was, I guess…”

“Jessica Black was a high-end hooker, an escort. She was also one of Sloan’s regulars. A few years ago, she was beaten pretty badly, but she wouldn’t report the guy. Then she moved to Baltimore. I don’t have anything concrete, but my gut says she fell in love with him. How, I can’t imagine. Now she’s dead.”

Silence meets my ear for several moments. When Patrick speaks again, his voice is sober, all joking gone. “And she looks a helluva lot like Melissa.”

“Right.”

“I know what to do.”

In that one sentence I hear my partner lock into closer mode, and it’s right where I want him. Patrick can be a royal fuck up when it comes to women, but he’s damn good at his job. And to her credit, Elaine seems to have put an end to his screwing around.

“I’ve got an idea,” he continues. “It’s something I floated past you a while back, but now with this… Raleigh… I might have a connection to what you need.”

“I didn’t expect anything less. See you in a few days, and Patrick? Thanks. I owe you one.”

“It’s nothing more than you’d do for me.”

“You know it.”

Chapter 3: Backup Plan

Melissa

Eight hours separate Princeton, New Jersey, from Wilmington, North Carolina. Eight long, boring, tedious hours.

I’ve been hesitant to push the relocation issue on Derek—I want him to be as happy in his hometown as I am in mine—but one more of these long drives, and I might have to rethink that approach.