The Truth About Comfort Cove

from?

But curious, she wrote, No. You?

No.

He was thinking in terms of her with a hot date? Could that

mean he viewed her as a hot woman? Or a woman who could get a hot date? A woman who had hot dates?

A woman? Not just a cop?

Lucy smiled again. If she wasn’t careful she was going to fall for this guy. And then get hurt.

You home?

She hesitated before typing in the affirmative, loath to lie to Ramsey in spite of the fact that lying to keep her life with Sandy private was as inbred as breathing.

The fact that his next question would be to ask if he could call—though why they’d started checking with each other first she didn’t know—drove her reply.

No.

Work?

No. She hesitated. And then, before he had a chance to reply typed, Mama’s.

Everything okay?

Fine. Sleeping.

You bored?

Little. Lucy adjusted the pillows behind her and lay back, smiling again. Would he take pity on her and entertain her for a while?

Anything in the box?

The mention of work brought her back to reality, and Lucy wasn’t completely unhappy to be able to tell him about the day. She didn’t need to, which was why she hadn’t called him, but since he’d asked…

Clothes, a razor, deodorant… She knew what kind Sloan wore now and would never, ever be able to pass it in the store again without thinking of him. Damn him.

And framed photo of American flag with some numbers written on back of it.

She sent the message off because of reaching length limits and then kept typing.

Looks like some kind of coordinates.

For what?

No clue. Not yet, anyway. Amber was going to be questioning Wakerby over the weekend, before the meeting with his attorney at the beginning of next week. They’d discussed their tactics together and agreed that they needed to up the heat on him over the weekend, but with the new evidence in hand, it made sense for Amber, not Lucy, to be the one to make this visit.

Lucy was one hundred percent good with the decision.

In the meantime, Spending the weekend with maps. Grocery store where Mama taken. Place by river where found. Areas around and in between. Checking coordinates. If lucky, will be a match.

She’d have started already if she hadn’t promised to spend the night with Sandy. And no matter how much she was itching to get started, no matter how good her mother’s glass of wine sounded at the moment while she champed at the bit, Lucy was not going to risk doing any work on the Wakerby case in her mother’s presence. Or in her home. The chance of Sandy seeing something, having a relapse, was not worth it.

Keep me posted.

Course. Anything with employer?