the curve of her ass, but it had just the opposite effect than he’d expected.
It titillated him.
She stood in the doorway, looking him right in the face. Calm, cool, alert. Just standing there, so serious. So dignified. And underneath—
No, he wouldn’t think about it.
“Couldn’t you sleep?” he asked.
“No.” Her voice quiet.
“You sure look pretty in that dress.”
“Do I?” Interested. Friendly, even. Like she was someone else, someone older. Like she was the one who was in control.
Those cool eyes on him.
There was a speck of brown in her blue-green iris.
That hit him square in the heart. Misty had that same imperfection. That was what they called it, but he always thought of it as a beauty mark.
“You have a brown spot in your eye,” he said.
“I know. My mom calls it my beauty mark.”
This had to be a sign from God—she was the one. He felt the rush of joy.
Not that he believed she was Misty come back to life. That would be ridiculous. He wasn’t crazy, just nostalgic. Still, the resemblance was heartening.
His mind was babbling now. She was so like Misty. The spot in the eye, the words she used.
“Would you like something to eat?” he asked. “I can cook anything you want. I’ll make you something special.”
45
Laura got in at two thirty in the morning. Victor Celaya and Buddy Holland were waiting for her, Holland humming like a power line. He had his keys in his hand as they walked down the steps toward the exit, his stride lengthening so he was way ahead of them, looking back periodically, impatient for them to catch up.
“He must be going out of his mind,” Laura said.
“Jesus, can you imagine what he’s thinking? What if it’s Lundy.”
Laura said nothing, because she thought it
She remembered what Jay Ramsey had said before she left for Florida—there had been another girl. “How old is Summer?”
“Twelve.”
“She lives with her mother? In Tucson?”
“Uh-huh.”
The heat hit the moment they were through the automatic doors, a hot, dry wind seizing the breath from her lips and nostrils. She’d gone from sauna to oven. It seemed to her it got hotter every year, the monsoon seasons of her memory dwindling down to a few thunderstorms, terminal humidity, and a plague of mosquitos. Maybe it was all due to global warming.
They drove the one long block to DPS headquarters. Laura had come back empty-handed. Nothing to check into evidence—that was still being decided in Tallahassee. Who got what, when. They headed upstairs to the squad bay, took chairs in the conference room. Buddy sat opposite Laura, and Victor sat between them at the head of the table.
Victor nodded to Buddy. “Okay. She’s here. What was it you wanted to talk about?”
Buddy stretched his long legs out in front of him and stared at his feet. Laura thought he had aged ten years.
Victor said to Laura, “He won’t tell me what’s going on. He said he wanted to wait for you. So give it up, Buddy, what is it?”
Buddy’s face was pale, his eyes like dark stones. He opened his mouth to speak, then abruptly launched himself out of his chair and started pacing.
“Come on, Buddy. What’s so important we have to beg for it?”
He stopped and took a breath.
“I think I brought him here.”
Laura wondered if she heard right.
“What do you mean, you brought him here?” demanded Victor.
Buddy started pacing again, head scrupulously turned away from them. He said, “I brought him here. It was
