Brody was all about action . . . the battle plan. “We’ll go to the DNA lab and get you tested right now.”
We. A unit.
“I’ll get by the lab soon.” Days ago, she’d have marked the idea insane. Now she couldn’t deny a possible connection.
“Let’s go now and take care of business.”
Absently, she shook her head. “And what if he is my father?”
His expression was as practical as his tone. “You’ve got a biological fact you can tuck in your file box and forget.”
It was that simple, and it wasn’t. “I’d be the daughter of a serial killer.”
He shrugged. “I remember how you talked about your dad, your real dad. It was clear he loved you.”
“Biology is a powerful predictor.”
He arched a brow. “I don’t buy it.”
She tipped her head back. “This is like a bad dream.”
He rose and closed the gap between them, coming short of touching her. “If it’s true. And if it is, remember it is a fact you have no control over. A fact that does not undo who you are.”
He was right, of course. A quirk of genetics didn’t define her. Why did she feel as if she’d done something wrong?
Jo had left Brody’s office and gone directly to the medical lab for the DNA test. Brody had wanted to go with her, been annoyed when she’d said no and only been soothed when she’d promised to share the results as soon as they arrived.
She’d picked up the test kit just before the office closed. She’d swipe her cheek. She would. Just not right this second.
Jo arrived at the Austin bar where the Find Christa! group had gathered after seven. The bar was loud, smoky and full of laughter. She wasn’t fond of bars. All the revelry, the laughter—neither fit her well. Work, dedication she understood, this culture she did not. As tempted as she was to turn and leave, she didn’t, reminding herself she knew these folks. Had spent countless hours in the cold, searching for Christa. Though they’d all come from different walks of life, they’d shared a bond that merited a drink.
Across the bar in a private room she saw a group of folks and behind them the battered Find Christa! banner that had hung on the side of Tim’s truck.
Straightening her shoulders, she went to the bar, ordered a white wine and cut through the crowds toward the group. She didn’t see Rucker but spotted several faces she recognized.
A redhead with pale skin and aqua glasses approached her. “I’m Casey. I remember you. Jo, right?”
She extended her hand. “I think we were on a couple of the search teams together.”
“Cold day from what I remember. Wind kinda cut like a knife that day.”
Jo sipped her wine and decided it tasted decent. “Not the best of circumstances.” Across the crowd her gaze connected with Tim’s. He raised a beer and smiled.
“Tim’s got a lot to be proud of,” Casey said. “A hero in my book.”
She smiled. “He does.” She glanced around the room. “I don’t see Scott or Ester.”
“Tim said they were too torn up to come. I can understand. I’m not sure if I could be here if it were my sister.” Casey took a deep sip of her beer. “Were you at the funeral?”
“Yeah.”
“Sad. Real sad. You see that Ranger there?”
“I did.”
“Badass. I’d hate to have him on my trail.”
Jo sipped her wine. “Yeah.”
Casey finished her beer. “How did you get recruited into the search? Were you a friend?”
“No. Tim was my Realtor.”
“Oh, me too.” A short guy with thinning hair pushed through the group up to Jo and Casey. He tossed a halfhearted smile toward Jo before focusing on Casey. “Hey, I was hoping you’d be here.”
Casey grinned. “Luke. Great to see you, man. Hey, did you meet Jo?”
He tore his gaze from Casey for a moment. “Jo, nice to meet you.”
She smiled, amused by his clear adoration for Casey. “Luke.”
“Hey, Jo, do you mind if I steal Casey for a moment? I got something I’d like to show her.”
Jo shrugged. “Have fun.”
Casey stopped and turned. “Jo, I almost forgot. I have a message from one of your friends.”
“Who?”
“Aaron. He was on his way in here tonight but received a last-minute call. He told me to tell you he’d catch up with you soon.”
Her smile froze. “Aaron?”
“Yeah.”
Aaron Dayton. He was out there. Interfacing with people she knew.
Luke tugged on Casey’s hand. “Nice meeting you again.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Bye.” Casey sounded breathless and excited as Luke took her by the hand and led her away.
Anger and frustration prodded Jo. Dayton was like a spider.
Tim shouldered his way through the crowd toward her. He picked up on her tension immediately. “What’s wrong?”
If her anger weren’t raw and fresh, she’d have done a better job of hiding it. “There’s a man. He’s stalking me.”
Tim cocked his head. “Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” His gaze scanned the room. “Is he here?”
“No. He was outside and sent a message through Casey, who has no idea what he’s doing.”
“Jo, who was it?”
“Aaron Dayton.” She sipped her wine and struggled to regain her composure. “Hey, I’m okay. It was likely nothing.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You look rattled.”
“No. I’m fine. Really.” Grateful for a familiar face, her smile warmed. “Nice crowd.”
He searched the room. “Yeah, good group of people. I’m glad they could all come and support each other.”
His aftershave hinted of spice. “Weird seeing a Ranger at the funeral. But good Christa’s case is still on their radar.”
“It is. She deserves justice.”
Tim’s expression turned grim. “The day I heard about her death was one of the hardest of my life. I was sure that we’d find her alive.”
“You did an amazing job. How many volunteers did you muster?”
“A couple of hundred. I wish we’d found her. Damn.”
Casey and Luke called out to Tim. They wanted him to say a few words.
Tim tried to wave them off but finally nodded acceptance. “Sorry, got to go.”
“Don’t be sorry. You should speak.”
She watched him weave through the crowd. Men patted him on the back. Women shook his hand. Jo set her glass down, suddenly a little suffocated by the crowd.
As Tim spoke, she turned and made her way through the bar. Outside, the cool air washed away the stale air and the tightness in her chest. She dug her keys out of her purse and took two steps before she heard a familiar voice.
“You should have had those keys in hand before you came outside.” Brody.
Tensing, she turned, grateful it wasn’t Dayton. She thought about telling Brody but caught herself. He was a habit she had to break. “Do you always follow Texans around and offer safety tips?”
His hands tucked into the pockets of a heavy, worn, brown jacket, he pushed away from the pub’s wall. “Only ones who have their nose stuck in books.”
“I wasn’t studying. I was socializing.” Being close to him steadied her.
“Something I’ve heard you don’t do too often.”
She shrugged. “Times change.”
Amusement danced in his gaze. “See anyone of interest?”
His height and size tempted her to step back, but she didn’t. “Why are you here?”