And he and Rowan as well as the cops would have seen the man if he’d been in the front yard. That left the back. “Backyard been checked?” he asked his friend.
“Doubt it. Let’s go.”
The three of them traipsed downstairs to the patio. Brent breathed easier when he didn’t see a pool Alexa could fall into. Taylor turned on a powerful flashlight. “Not Metro issued, buddy.”
A snort. “I prefer the Fortress equipment. So sue me.”
Brent chuckled. “Glad I can equip one of Metro’s finest. If you’d give up the fame and perks, you could play with these kinds of toys all the time.”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear you. I’m also ignoring you for now. Stop nagging me.”
“You won’t be able to resist forever, Cal.”
The beam from the flashlight swept the yard.
“Hold up.” Brent pointed to the right. “Go back.”
Taylor redirected the light and stopped at the corner of the yard, near a row of bushes. He hissed, then turned to Rowan. “Stay here.” He jogged across the remaining distance to the bushes.
Since his friend hadn’t issued him the same order, Brent followed. Dread grew in his gut as he drew nearer. A body. Taylor checked for a pulse, glanced at Brent, shook his head. After patting down the victim, the cop pulled a wallet from the vic’s pants pocket.
“Jay Maxwell.”
He crouched beside Cal. “Please tell me you don’t need Rowan to identify him.” The head shot hadn’t left much to identify Maxwell with and he didn’t want her to have that memory.
Instead of answering, Taylor reached into another of Maxwell’s pockets and pulled out a cell phone. The last call that came in showed it was from a private number.
Brent recognized it as Taylor’s. “Good. Guess we have our answer without subjecting Rowan to this horror.” Looked as though Brent wouldn’t be having that talk with Jay Maxwell after all. At least Rowan and Heather didn’t have to worry about being safe from this clown. “I assume this will now be your case since there’s a homicide involved.”
“Would have been anyway.” Taylor stood and tossed Brent the flashlight. “See if you can find Alexa out here. Try not to trample any clues in the process.”
“Right.” He stood and retraced his steps to Rowan.
“Who is it?” she whispered, her gaze clinging to his.
“It’s Maxwell.”
“Oh, no. How am I going to tell Heather?”
“Don’t worry about that right now. Taylor wants me to search the yard for Alexa. Will you be okay right here?”
She looked at the detective, still crouching beside Maxwell’s body. “Do I need to identify him or something?”
“Not necessary. In fact, you’ll want to stay as far away from the body as possible so you don’t contaminate the scene.”
Rowan eyed him a moment. “That bad?”
Smart woman. He brushed her bottom lip with his thumb. “Not something you need to see, sweetheart.”
“I want to help you look for Alexa. If she’s hiding, she might not come to you.”
With a nod, he laced his fingers through hers and began the search of the outskirts. Despite Rowan calling Alexa’s name and their careful search, he and Rowan didn’t find the girl.
By the time they returned to the patio, the crime scene team had arrived as well as the coroner. Across the yard, Taylor looked his direction. Brent shook his head. The detective said something to one of his co-workers and walked to the patio.
“No luck, Cal.”
He sighed. “Guess I don’t have a choice but to call in the feds.”
“Glad I don’t have to work with them,” he muttered and handed Taylor the flashlight.
A roll of his eyes, and Taylor stepped away from them, cell phone pressed to his ear.
“I want to keep looking for Alexa, but I also know Heather will be frantic with worry. I don’t want her at the hospital by herself.”
“Come on.” He led her to his SUV and helped her inside. “We’ve been looking for Alexa for almost an hour. The cops are covering this neighborhood, looking for her. They have a better chance of finding her than we do because of sheer volume.” Brent cupped her cheek with his palm. “Zane should be getting back to us soon. In the meantime, you can give your sister some badly needed moral support.”
She pressed her face against his hand for a moment. “You’re right. I need to be with Heather.”
With a nod, Brent dropped his hand and closed the door. His gaze scanned the area, taking in the buzz of activity and crowd of neighbors craning their necks to see if they could glean some tidbit of information to share.
His hands clenched. Where was Alexa?
CHAPTER FOUR
Rowan hurried into the emergency room entrance with Brent. The woman behind the desk glanced up.
“May I help you?”
“Heather Maxwell. She was brought in with a gunshot wound. I’m her sister.”
“Give me a moment to find out where she is.” The woman grabbed her handset and placed a call. After a moment, she hung up and said to Rowan, “Go through the double doors and turn left. There’s a family waiting room. Your sister is in surgery right now. When it’s complete, the doctor will talk to you.”
She and Brent walked to the waiting room, but Rowan was too antsy to stay seated. She hopped up and started pacing the small, utilitarian space.
“Rowan.”
When she turned, he was right there, less than six inches away. How had he moved that silently? “I can’t sit still. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Adrenaline has your system revved.” He moved in closer, placed his hands on her upper arms. “We didn’t have a chance to eat dinner. Are you hungry?”
The very thought of eating made her stomach do a slow roll. Okay, food was not on the menu for a while. Rowan shook her head. “I’m thirsty, though.”
“You have a preference? I feel it only fair to warn you that you’ll be stuck with vending machine fare. If I were you, I wouldn’t risk the coffee. Trust me,
