Her Detective's Secret Intent

So many times, in situations like hers, the victim died first. She wasn’t going to let that happen. To her or her son.

Ethan was an unknowing victim.

The train of thought led her right back to where she’d started. She absolutely could not tell Tad about her past.

And so she tried not to think about the things she couldn’t change, things she could do nothing about. She had a really easy way to do that, too, and found herself sinking into a world where she worked, took care of her son and then let her thoughts be consumed by Tad—and her body governed by sexual adrenaline.

The weekend following her Thursday tryst with him, if she wasn’t working or watching out for her son, she was thinking about ways to be alone with Tad. Finding times in her schedule where there might be a possibility.

Barring anything else, they could squeeze in an hour on Tuesday morning, if they didn’t go for coffee with the group after the High Risk Team meeting. And if she skipped lunch.

On Monday, she proposed as much in a text to him. And got his immediate affirmative response. Hell, yes.

Then she walked around hot for him the rest of that day, dreaming about him that night, as she anticipated being with him.

She shaved her legs with extra care on Tuesday morning and left the conditioner in her hair a little longer than us

ual. Chose her newest scrubs—a lavender pair with rainbows and bears—and used a touch of rose-scented essential oil on her wrists.

Buzzing with need, she walked into the police station for the meeting Tuesday morning, trying to look nothing but professional as she approached the conference room. Smiled and said hello to everyone before she let her gaze home in specifically on the chair Tad always occupied.

Trying not to falter when she saw it was empty. He always got to the meetings early because he was also in domestic violence training sessions at the station and in meetings with other detectives, listening in on discussions about other domestic violence–related crimes.

He didn’t show up at all that day. Neither did Chantel Fairbanks, their High Risk Team detective.

Five minutes into the meeting, she knew why.

Tad had seen Devon Williams lurking outside a business near the elementary school that morning. He’d been wearing a janitorial jumpsuit and a hat. He’d turned to a dumpster, reaching inside as though looking for something when Tad first drove past. A dumpster-diving janitor had alerted Tad enough that he’d parked and taken a walk around the building. Devon hadn’t seen him, but Tad made a positive ID and called Chantel, who’d asked him to keep Devon in sight until they could get to him.

Miranda was back at the clinic, seeing patients, before she got word that he’d been apprehended—and then let go. It turned out that Devon had been just far enough away from school property to be within his allowed limits.

All team members had been put on high alert. Devon was biding his time. Chantel—and everyone else involved—was sure of it.

Suddenly sex was the last thing on Miranda’s mind. Leaving work as soon as she’d charted her last patient, she drove straight to Ethan’s school. Didn’t matter to her that she was half an hour early. She’d rather sit in her car and wait than have him come out a second early and her not be there.

She wanted him close.

Needed him close.

He was her life.

This was her life.

She was thankful for that reminder.

* * *

Tad hated feeling uneasy. He went to the gym Tuesday night after texting with Miranda. On Wednesday he was at the police station for a while. There’d been another domestic call while he was there, regarding a first-time abuser, and he’d been asked to ride along. He stayed by the car, watching, and still got an eyeful and an earful. The man came out of the house brandishing a gun, clearly out of his mind with rage.

From what he’d heard on the way over, the guy was a high school teacher and coach. A good guy who’d come home from school sick to find his wife in bed with another man.

The officer who’d gone to the door knew the man. Talked him down. Got him to come to the station with them.

In the end, no charges were filed. He hadn’t hurt anyone, only threatened. His wife wouldn’t testify against him.

The next day, he’d filed for divorce.

And Tad was still uneasy.