The Missing

hands as he shook her again. Awake now, she squinted up at him and then looked at the clock hanging on the wall over his shoulder. Ten a.m. She’d been under probably close to six hours. And she could tell, just by how stiff her body was. Sleeping in an armchair was always a bad idea. Groaning, she straightened up. Her stiffened muscles screamed at her, and she pressed a hand to her low back, scooting to the front edge of the cushion so she could stretch a little.

    “What in the hell are you still doing here?” Jones demanded.

    Tired and cranky as hell, she snarled at him, “Where am I supposed to be? You dump me here, and it’s not like there’s a yellow cab outside waiting to take me to the nearest Holiday Inn.”

    “There’s a Motel 6 a few blocks down the road.”

    Shoving up off the chair, she got in his face and demanded, “What, you really think I was going to walk there or something? Damn, Jones, what bug crawled up your ass this morning?”

    His eyes narrowed. Sometimes, she knew, he wondered why in the hell he tolerated her. If she actually worked for him, he could discipline her for the attitude she gave him. She mouthed off enough to know she could have been fired ten times over—if she were an employee. But since she was more of a freelance type, he didn’t have that much authority over her, and he also knew that if he never asked for her help on a case again, she could care less. Took away a lot of his fun, she was willing to bet. Which made it all that much more fun for her.

    His voice was pleasant as he said, “You know, Taige, one would think you could understand that I’m in a bind here. You broke procedure doing what you did. You could have endangered that girl even more. Maybe one of the bugs up my ass, as you say, is because I’m trying to figure out how to keep you from getting into a world of trouble.”

    Taige snorted. “Oh, come off of it, Jones. You and I both know that what your superiors care about is results. Just like you and I both know that I’d never have gone to get her if I hadn’t thought that was the best thing for her.” She eased around him, searching for the coffee carafe she’d glimpsed last night. It was on a small table under the TV mounted to the wall. Taking one of the small foam cups from the table, she filled it half full and took a sniff. Strong. Stronger than she liked, and she had a feeling it would eat away the lining of her stomach if she drank too much.

    But right now, she needed the caffeine. She added twice as much sugar as normal, and three times as much cream. Still, it was strong enough to make her blanch, and the caffeine hit her system with the force of a sucker punch. “Damn. These medical types make their coffee strong.”

    She turned around and met Jones’s gaze. He was still scowling at her, and she gave him a sweet smile. “So why did you wake me up?”

    He looked around and then jerked his head, a silent summons that she follow him. In the time since she had fallen asleep, the number of people waiting in the emergency room had gone up considerably. She made her way past two elderly patients in wheelchairs, a girl sitting doubled up in a chair, and a very, very pregnant woman as she followed Jones to the double doors by the triage desk.

    The nurse buzzed the door, and as Taige walked by, she saw the dirty look the nurse shot at Jones’s averted back. Yep, Taylor Jones made friends everywhere he went. He led her into a small office, one he’d obviously appropriated for his personal use. He gestured to a chair and told her to sit.

    She didn’t. She hated it when the bastard tried to throw his weight around with her. He dropped into his chair and gave her an irritated look. “Sit down, Taige. You need to give me your report, and you look like shit.”

    “My, you are in a bad mood. Cussing and everything,” she said with a cheeky grin. She sipped at her strong, overly sweet coffee and added, “I’ll stand.”

    He gave her his most intimidating stare. She didn’t even blink. He broke first, leaning over the desk under the guise of opening a file. “You’ll need to fill out your official report, but right now, I need your impressions on the kidnapper.”

    Taige’s mouth thinned out in a flat line, and she shook her head. “Can’t. Already told you that. I didn’t so much as get one look at him. That place, it’s like it’s been wiped clean of his touch. I can feel the evil of him, but not him.”

    Jones