Page 92 of A Little Taste

I miss her.

As she told me her new theory about the case, I missed working with her. I missed her instincts and intelligence. She’s smart as a fucking whip.

When her eyes flooded with tears as she spilled her heart to me, I wanted to pull her into my arms and forgive everything. I missed tracing my nose along the line of her hair. I missed holding her body next to mine and hearing the little gasps and whimpers that lace her breathing when I touch her.

Stubbornly, I ran away, but after passing a sleepless night fighting with my brother’s words, I’ve reconsidered my hard line.

“Ryan’s mom said her friend Miss Cass walks dogs for money.” Owen’s still working on his plan for seeing his new bestie. “I’d walk Edward for free!”

Glancing in the rearview mirror, I give him a smile. “Sounds like an offer she can’t refuse.”

He grins so big, my heart swells. Seeing how much Britt loves him is another crack in the wall I’ve built.Everyone makes mistakes… Damn Adam.

Owen’s out of the truck and jogging up to meet Ryan as soon as we reach the church, and I decide to stop by the courthouse. I know she’s there, because I have her work schedule.

In two turns, I’m pulling into my reserved parking space. Hopping out, I plan what could be the reason for my unexpected visit after saying I didn’t want to see her again.

We need to discuss her new theory on the case. What could Stan be planning? Where is he? She told me straight up her mother is doing her own sleuthing, which shows she’s trying to make up for her mistake. It’s another blow to my defenses.

Reaching out, I grasp the metal handle on the door, but it doesn’t budge. My brow furrows, and I lean forward, cupping my hand over the glass. The room is dark. The door is locked. Nobody’s here.

I dig in my pocket for the key and unlock the door, flipping on the lights as I pass Holly’s and Doug’s desks on my way to hers. It looks the same as it did when she left on Friday. Pausing, I pull up the schedule on my phone, and I wasn’t wrong. Her name is down for today.

Sliding my hand behind my neck, I hesitate, thinking. Then I swipe my thumb across the screen, and tap out a short text.Sleeping in?

It doesn’t make sense for her to not be here. She’s not the type to ditch work.

Returning to the glass doors, I gaze across the square in the direction of the Star Parlor. Without giving it a thought, I push through the door and head across the street. I’m only going to be sure the cruiser is there. I won’t go upstairs or bang on her door or anything overbearing-boss-ish like that.

At the speed I’m moving, it doesn’t take long to reach her building. I step inside the glass door and go to the space behind the stairwell, where I know she parks the bike. A bad feeling moves through my chest when I see it’s empty.

Dragging my fingers through the scruff on my jaw, I rationalize. She probably went for a ride… on the day she’s scheduled to work. I might have passed her on my way here… across the wide-open square. She could’ve gone for donuts.

Donuts!I exhale a laugh. Fuck. I’m acting like a paranoid caveman, and she’s probably on her way to the courthouse right now with a box of Krispy Kreme.

I turn to leave at the same time the door to the Star Parlor opens, and Gwen stops short with a little yelp.

“Aiden!” Her voice is breathless, and she presses a hand to her chest. “What are you doing here? Birgitte said you two aren’t speaking.”

“We’re not.” My tone is flat, and I continue for the door when she stops me.

“If you’re not speaking, why are you in her stairwell?”

“It’s her day to work, and she’s not at the courthouse. I was just checking on her.”

Gwen’s eyes whip to the empty space where the bike is normally parked then to me again. “Something’s wrong.”

A fist knots in my chest, but I push back. “She’s probably just getting donuts. We always have Krispy Kreme—”

“My daughter hasn’t eaten a donut since she was a child.” Gwen closes the space between us quickly. “I’m telling you something’s not right here. I can feel it.”

“Don’t start that with me.”

“Even if you don’t believe in magic, there are proven instances of a mother’s intuition being correct. You have to send out an APB or an Amber Alert or whatever you people do to get everyone searching.”

My stomach churns, and of course, I would do all of those things. “I can’t call a search party until we’re sure she’s missing.”

A low barking from upstairs sends another flash through my chest. “Edward.” I grab the railing, taking the steps two at a time.