The one we were working on was the missing baby from twenty-three years ago. His parents had stopped in Piersville for two days on the way to their vacation spot. Todd Lewis had a head cold and had been suffering from headaches because of it, and Erika Lewis had taken the baby, Ainsley, to the store to get some diapers and formula. When she’d turned to put something in the cart, he was gone. All of these years later, no one knew where the kid had gone to. Was he still in Piersville? Was he in one of the towns near us? Was he even still alive?
So many questions, so little to go on.
“DB said a reward’s been granted for the case, so we can start putting up fliers asking for information,” Alex told me as I parked in front of the police station. “Naomi’s designing them now, so they’ll be up by the end of the day tomorrow. We still have the DNA samples from the parents, but we can always ask for new ones to be taken, just in case.”
Getting out of the car, I thought it over. “Let’s see what the lab in Palmerstown says about the DNA and if they can get what they need from it first. I don’t want to get the parents’ hopes up by telling them we’re investigating it until we have something solid to go on.”
“Spoken like a true detective and like a parent.”
The first glimpse of Naomi derailed my ‘true detective’ thoughts, though, and moved them onto dirtier ones. Then, when she bent over to pick up a piece of paper she’d dropped, they became downright filthy.
It took everything in me to focus on what I was doing for the rest of the day, but somehow, I managed to do it without dragging her off to a storeroom somewhere in the precinct. Granted, this was partly because I wouldn’t put her in that predicament, but mainly because I still wasn’t sure what or if she even still had triggers for her claustrophobia.
I was reasonably sure I was going to have to accept she was now mine and tell my body to cut it out, otherwise, my ambitions to be a detective and a good officer, as well as an excellent parental figure, were going to go to shit.
TEN
Carter
Ever since I’d gotten my position at P.V.P.D, I hadn’t been fazed at working late or even staying on to finish up paperwork. The only time I’d ever clocked out on time had been when I had something going on with Naomi and Shanti. Today, though, I had my computer shut down, my paperwork locked away, and my radio was back in its charging dock bang on the dot.
“Good to see you living your life instead of breathing work,” Alex muttered through a grin. After watching him do the same thing for the couple of months, I knew he understood how I felt.
“Gotta get back to my girls.”
Nodding, he clapped me on the shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”
When I got to my truck, I looked it over critically. It was a dual cab, so there was space for Shanti in the back, but was it safe for her? I’d obviously driven her around in the past, but with the change in my relationship status with Naomi, I was assuming I’d be driving her around more often. Well, not so much assuming as hoping.
Was this the best thing for her? Would an SUV be better? Something like a Suburban or an Explorer. I could have sworn I’d seen hybrid and electric versions of at least one of them advertised online, so maybe I should look at one of them? The Mustang didn’t have airbags in the front or back because it was a classic muscle car, so that was out, too.
Getting into the truck was slightly awkward thanks to the appendage who—regardless of what I said to it and how often I told it to fuck off—still hadn’t gone down, but I managed it. I was getting desperate by this point, so I wound down the windows, figuring the fresh air might help.
Then, halfway back to Naomi and Shanti’s house, it happened.
I’d hit my thigh on the corner of my desk while I’d been distracted by my not-so-friendly pain in the pants earlier, and the Charlie horse kicked back in big time as I was stopped at a red light.
Not thinking, I reached down and rubbed up and down the cramping muscle, unable to hold back the grimace that accompanied it. Muscle cramps could be inconvenient, and they could be painful. This one was definitely the latter, and I needed the leg to drive, so massaging it was my only option.
“Officer Lane,” a voice snapped from the old truck waiting next to mine. “You keep that filthy stuff for when you’re at home. A man in uniform, touching himself in his car in front of all and sundry. Well, I never!”