Dragonfury 02 - Fury of Ice
at…
She pushed the sleeve of her sweater above her wrist. No watch. Huh. She could’ve sworn she’d buckled up the faux snakeskin band before she left home, but boy, her brain was fried. And she felt frazzled, like she needed to hurry up for no apparent reason.
With a frown, she glanced out the side window. Rain streaked the glass, running in rivulets as thunder boomed overhead. Another storm. Another day in Seattle. As the tires splashed through puddles, washing waves of dirty water over the street curb, she watched storefronts flash past, neon signs blurred by rainfall. She shook her head. What the heck was going on? No way she should be riding around in the back of a taxicab so early in the morning.
Raising her hands, she rubbed the grit from her eyes. Clue number…she paused (well, she didn’t know what number, but they were piling up and she could take a hint). Okay, so she was sleepy, like she usually was when she got out of bed each morning. But as far as she could tell, the sun had just come up, so…
Leaning forward, Tania rapped on the partition between her and the driver. “Excuse me?”
Tired brown eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “Huh?”
“Can you tell me what time it is?”
“Ah, sure.” Deep wrinkles got deeper as he squinted at the clock embedded in the dashboard. “Six-seventeen, miss.”
Tania nodded her thanks and sat back. Six-seventeen a.m. Yikes, she was done for…already scrambled and the day had barely begun. Not a good sign. Particularly when her meeting with the bigwigs was scheduled for later this morning. Well, all right. At least she remembered that , but the lost hours worried her. No surprise there. She was always kind of worried, but the missing memory bugged her more than the usual stuff. She could almost touch it. Could see the hole with her mind’s eye, but couldn’t fill in the blanks.
Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headrest. God. What was her problem? A brain tumor? Early-onset Alzheimer’s? Okay, now she was just being a jerk. Twenty-eight was too young to be losing her mind, but really, what else could a girl do after experiencing…
What, exactly?
The question gave her a headache. As the thump-thump-throb caught rhythm, banging like a drum on her temples, she grabbed her handbag and plopped it into her lap. The monstrosity took up all the real estate, sagging over the tops of her tights as she rooted around inside. Finding a bottle of Advil, she popped the cap and downed two, hoping for some relief because she sure as heck wasn’t getting any answers.
Why…why…why?
The continuous question circled, chasing its tail, making her hate the word all over again. She had every right. Her life was nothing but one big string of whys . The most recent casualty was Myst. Her best friend was missing. Taken. Murdered. Goddamn it, she didn’t know what had happened. And guess what? Neither did anyone else…cops included.
Her throat grew tight as she thought of her best friend. The situation pushed past strange into downright frightening. Something bad had gone down at Caroline Van Owen’s.
Chewing on the inside of her lip, Tania stared out the window, hands strangling her handbag as her imagination went wild. Maybe the pregnant girl’s abusive boyfriend had come home. Maybe Myst had gotten caught in the crossfire. Maybe a flat tire had taken her off the beaten path on the way home and a serial killer had—
“Stop it,” she whispered, staring at her reflection in the window glass. “Get a grip, you big scaredy-cat.”
She tried. She really did, but…God. She was driving herself crazy, imagining all sorts of awful scenarios. Ones that involved chainsaws and wood chippers. And the cops on the case? Big jerks. Okay, that wasn’t fair. Detective Keen was cool. Tough, sure, but as compassionate as they came. Her partner, though?
Frigging Detective MacCord.
The guy rattled her cage. For a plethora of reasons. None of which she liked, never mind wanted to admit. He tempted her to a dangerous degree, and not just because of the way he wore a pair of Sevens. All right, so she enjoyed looking at him, butt-gloving jeans and all. The man was gorgeous, and no one could fault a girl for noticing. No harm, no foul, right?
Tania nodded. Right. And had that been the end of it—just a healthy girl admiring a beautiful man—no problem.
But her attraction to him went beyond the physical. Something about him drew her. His vibe, maybe.
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