Finding Faye (K&S Securities 1)

Well, that was just sucky timing. Just my luck that Blake would call and screw me out of kissing Faye’s velvety soft lips. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would think he had timed it like that on purpose. The memory of her delicate body relaxing into me, her face tilted up for my kiss, crashes into me again and I reach for her hand as we ascend the stairs.

I need to focus.

Making sure Faye stays safe is more urgent than my driving need to taste her lips. Reviewing Cerelli’s file on his missing wife and starting the search: that is what I need to do. I hope that there is something to go on. I hate cold trails more than anything.

Pushing open the door to my home office, I usher Faye through without thinking about what is in there. She stops and I hear her quick, surprised intake of breath. The whole of my house is pretty average. Worn, dog-friendly furniture, a few framed photos on the walls, nothing unusual.

Except for my office.

Having Faye with me, in the flesh, has distracted me. I didn't think to warn her about this being where I have done almost all of my research while looking for her. It probably makes me look like some kind of stalker. There are pictures of her on the walls, lots of them.

When I came home on leave to see to the details of Brad and Claire's burial I took every single photograph in the house. I also boxed up everything I could find that belonged to Faye. By the time of the murders she had completely moved herself out of the house. She didn’t have much, but her books are on a shelf beside mine and her clothes are in the closet.

I’m aware that it’s weird, but it made me feel better being surrounded by her things when I had no idea where she was.

“Umm...Travis?” Her voice betrays her confusion. “Where did all of this come from?”

“I brought it all with me when I cleared out the house in New York and moved out here.” The simple answer might work, right?

“This is all

my stuff. Did you bring anything else?”

I guess the simple answer won’t be enough, after all. “I only wanted your things. The rest of it reminded me of Brad and Claire.” She nods, encouraging me to continue. “It helped me focus on you when I was searching. I did most of my investigations alone, from this room.”

She lets go of my hand and crosses over to the bookshelves, pulling a worn book off of it with a smile. She seems to accept my words and I release the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Later I will explain to her how I needed to be around her things. How not finding her chipped at me, leaving a hole in my heart that I could only fill by surrounding myself with images of her smiling face, reading her books.

Sitting down in my big desk chair, I pull her onto my lap. She wiggles a little, getting comfortable, and I hold back the groan that wants to crawl out of me at the feel of her soft little ass pressed against my groin. My cock twitches and she moves against it again. Grasping her hips, I press my lips against her ear. “Hold still, Faye. We have work to do.” She sucks in a breath and freezes on my lap, and I squeeze her soft flesh. “That’s my girl,” I mumble into her hair, and I swear I hear a tiny moan in response as I reach for my laptop and open the file Blake sent over.

The first few pages are the details about Mrs. Cerelli. Age, physical description, and the circumstances of her disappearance. There isn’t much to go on and I can see why she hasn’t been located yet. It’s been about five months, so hopefully I still might be able to find some leads.

After reading the limited amount of info, I open the file of photos and Faye sucks in a surprised breath. “Oh shit,” she whispers, more to herself than to me.

“Do you know her, Faye?” I ask, unable to believe it could actually be this easy.

“I think… maybe? If it is, she doesn’t quite look like this anymore.” She gestures to the photos. “If she is who I think she is, you have to promise me that she will be safe.” Tears roll unchecked down her cheeks, making my heart clench. “I don’t want to make her go back if he is going to mistreat her or make her unhappy.”

I can tell she more than thinks she knows Analise. She just doesn’t want to commit until she knows she can keep her safe.

Somehow Faye is friends with Analise Cerelli.

“Who is she to you, Sweetpea?” I say as I close the file and lock my computer. Her thin shoulders shake with sobs again. When she cries herself out she finally speaks, her face buried in my chest.

“It’s Ana. From the diner where I work. She is thinner now and her hair is way different, but I would know her anywhere. She is the closest thing I have to a friend.” Her voice breaks as she whimpers the last few words

I think back to the frightened waitress I spoke to yesterday. Faye is right—her hair is dark now, and she is pregnant and exhausted, but Ana is Analise Cerelli. Without a word Faye slips off my lap, and I hear her quiet steps retreating down the stairs and calling for Max.

I know this isn’t easy for her.

I rise to follow her, but then think better of it, giving her a few moments to herself. I know that she is going to have to process this development. I pick up my phone to call Blake and fill him in. This is going to be a problem, a big one. Faye won’t want me to hand her friend over to a husband she ran away from, and I can't do it without her support. Going against her in this will drive a wedge between us, and I have just found her. I don't want her to feel like she needs to run again, and I’m afraid that is what she might be thinking about doing.

If she runs and takes Analise with her, I will have a major mess on my hands. A mess that involves the mob.

Just what I need right now.

Chapter Twelve