New York to Dallas

alone, heading to the office to check in with Caro, and with Summerset. Nothing urgent from either, he thought, and that was a blessing. A few details to deal with later in the day, more yet when he returned. But for now, he could leave those aspects of his world in the capable hands of his admin and Summerset.
    He started to call for the search results when the house ’link signaled.
    “Roarke.”
    “Good morning, sir. Peterson at the desk. There’s a Detective Jones for Lieutenant Dallas. I’ve scanned and cleared her credentials. Sending a visual now.”
    Roarke watched Bree, standing at the security desk, come on screen.
    “You can send her up.”
    “Right away, sir.”
    He clicked off, started down to the main level. Apparently everyone was getting an early start that morning.

12
     
    A nd, he thought as he opened the door, someone else hadn’t gotten much sleep. She’d done her best to hide it, he noted, covering the shadows under her eyes, adding color to her cheeks. But enhancements couldn’t hide the underlayment of worried exhaustion.
    “Good morning, Detective.”
    “It’s early. I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it until I was already here.”
    “No problem. The lieutenant will be down any minute. We’ll have breakfast.”
    “Oh. I should have—”
    “The three of us,” he said smoothly as he took her arm, drew her in. “You haven’t eaten.”
    “No, I . . . How do you know?”
    “I’m married to one very like you.”
    “That’s the biggest compliment you could give me. I shouldn’t have come without checking first.”
    “There’s no need. I can promise you a working breakfast is what Eve has in mind. Isn’t it, Lieutenant?” he asked as Eve came down the stairs.
    “That’s the plan. Detective.”
    “I was hoping you had a little time before everything gets rolling today.”
    “Why don’t I go up,” Roarke suggested, “set things up in your office.”
    “That’d be good.”
    He brushed his fingers over Eve’s arm as he went by.
    “I apologize, Lieutenant, for intruding, for overstepping.”
    “I’ll let you know when you’ve intruded or overstepped. Get any sleep?”
    “Not really. I’m staying with my parents. I couldn’t stay at my place with Melinda . . . And our parents need me there.”
    “How are they holding up?”
    “They’re scared.” Bree’s fingers worried at the ring on her finger. “I keep telling them we’re going to get her back, and they’re trying to believe me. I told them I was going to the gym before I went in, to loosen up. It’s the first time I’ve been dishonest with them since the night Melinda and I snuck out of the hotel in New York. Gotta see Times Square at night. My idea. Melinda went along because I harped on her, told her I’d go alone. I know what we put our parents through now. I thought I knew, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.”
    She stopped herself. “And none of that matters.”
    “It all matters.” She hadn’t gone to her partner, Eve thought, so she wanted or needed something her partner couldn’t provide. “Why don’t we go up and eat? He’ll nag the crap out of us otherwise.”
    “If I could just have coffee.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I always say.” Eve led the way.
    “It must be nice, being married.”
    Eve thought of clawing out of the nightmare, and Roarke there, right there, holding her. “It doesn’t suck.”
    She stepped into the office, noticed the door connecting to his place was closed. She’d known when he’d brushed her arm, exchanged a look, he intended to give her time with Bree.
    She looked past the case board to the little table by the window set with two covered plates, mugs, juice, and best of all a jumbo pot of coffee.
    “He’s always feeding cops,” she said half to herself. “He can’t seem to help it.”
    “He works with you a lot.”
    “Sort of. He consults. He’s got good instincts and extreme e-skills.”
    “It’s good to be with someone who understands being on the job. I had this thing for a while, but it didn’t work out. He didn’t like the hours, the missed dates. Figured I gave too much time to the job, not enough to him. He was probably right.”
    “You have to be crazy or stupid to hook up with a cop.”
    “Which is Roarke?”
    “I’m still working on figuring it out.” She lifted the lids off the plates. Sighed. “I should’ve known. He went for the full Irish.”
    “Holy Jesus.” Bree goggled at the eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes. “What