The Truth About Comfort Cove

“Could it be twen

ty-five years, Todd? Do you think it’s Allie?”

His gaze softened as he shook his head. “Honestly, Lucy, no, I don’t. I didn’t even want to tell you about the body until I knew for sure, but Lionel pointed out—and I agreed with him—that you’d draw your own conclusions if I didn’t have a report for you this morning.”

“You’ve put it into missing persons, right?”

“We will as soon as we get DNA back from the lab.”

A recently discovered buried body made this a current case. “You expect that yet today?”

“Possibly. Lionel pulled strings, and since this is a new find, it took precedence as a new case. Look, Lucy, there are several missing children from the Cincinnati and surrounding areas that date back fifteen or more years. You know that. You’ve pulled every single one of the records.”

He shared a desk with her. He knew how many files she had yet to go through. Lucy nodded.

“And there’s no guarantee that this missing child was even reported,” she said aloud. Things happened more often than they wanted to know—parents or babysitters or boyfriends and girlfriends of parents or babysitters who lost patience with a crying child, got a little too rough. No one meant to kill infants. It just happened sometimes. And the next step in that scenario was to get rid of the body, bury the evidence.

“The bones are a little long for a six-month-old baby. And the decomposition reads closer to fifteen years than thirty.”

She’d read that, too. “Thanks, Todd,” she said. He hadn’t said a word about the leave she’d taken of her senses, digging in the woods like a dog. Hadn’t mentioned the slight disfiguration of her chin, either. For all of his gruffness, he was a kind man. One she was proud to work beside.

“For now we’ve got a J. Doe,” Todd replied. Not John. Not Jane. Just J.

They made a deal.

sitting at his desk, Ramsey swore as he read the text.

“What’s up?” Kim Pershing asked from her desk several feet away. Bill was sitting right behind him, too, and Ramsey felt the other man’s stare boring into his back. Just because his workaholic mentor had recently succumbed to love didn’t mean Ramsey was going to follow suit. His and Bill’s personal lives were completely different.

“I’m not sure,” he said. But he knew it wasn’t good.

“Something to do with one of your missing-child cases?”

They shared any and all information to do with current cases. As a team, any of them could be called in to work any of the cases assigned to their squad.

“Yeah,” he said, itching to get up and call Lucy. “Out of jurisdiction.”

“Something to do with that young lady you had in here a while back?” Bill asked.

“She’s a detective,” he said, hoping his peers would take the hint and leave him the hell alone.

“So you said.”

“In Aurora, Indiana, didn’t you say?” Kim asked.

“Yes.”

The other woman looked hurt and Ramsey wanted to swear again.

“You give her rain checks, too?”

He couldn’t believe Kim had said the words in front of Bill. And didn’t want to hurt her further, either. He liked her. Respected her. Enjoyed working with her.

“Nope. But I would have if she’d asked me to do anything outside of work.” They were going to a wedding together that weekend, but Frank Whittier was going to be there. They would definitely be working. Everything he and Lucy did together pertained to work.

“You really meant it when you said you don’t date cops.”

“Yep.”