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A Silent Fury
Lynette Eason
Tragedy strikes Palmetto Deaf School–twice. With one student murdered and another missing, it's up to homicide detective Catelyn Clark to find the killer–and probable kidnapper–fast. She'll even work with her ex-boyfriend, FBI agent Joseph Santino, to solve the case…while keeping her distance. Relationships between cops never work; her parents taught her that. They also taught her that the only one she can rely on is herself. But when the killer starts targeting Catelyn, it's only by opening her heart to faith–and love–that she can finally bring the silent fury to an end.



“Catelyn, wait.”
She stopped, turned to find Joseph leaning against a porch pillar, watching her. This time her shiver had nothing to do with anger. She remembered how it had felt to rest her head against his broad shoulder, remembered what it was like to feel secure, safe.
Only to have him push her away. He’d wanted her to shelve her career and become the kind of wife she’d vowed never to be.
A cop’s wife-giving up her career to make him happy.
And yet the attraction between them had sizzled.
“Can we talk?” he asked. “About us.”
“That’s not even a topic,” she said. “There is no us.”
His jaw clenched. “We have to work together. Without letting our past interfere. Can we do that?”
“We can try.”
He reached to grasp her hand in a handshake, and the tingles that danced up her arm told her she was in trouble.

LYNETTE EASON
grew up in Greenville, SC. Her home church, Northgate Baptist, had a tremendous influence on her during her early years. She credits Christian parents and dedicated Sunday School teachers for her acceptance of Christ at the tender age of eight. Even as a young girl, she knew she wanted her life to reflect the love of Jesus.
Lynette attended the University of South Carolina in Columbia, SC, then moved to Spartanburg, SC, to attend Converse College, where she obtained her master’s degree in education. During this time, she met the boy next door, Jack Eason—and married him. Jack is the Executive Director of the Sound of Light Ministries. Lynette and Jack have two precious children, Lauryn, eight years old, and Will, who is six. She and Jack are members of New Life Baptist Fellowship Church in Boiling Springs, SC, where Jack serves as the worship leader and Lynette teaches Sunday School to the four- and five-year-olds.

A Silent Fury
Lynette Eason


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Refrain from anger and turn from wrath; do not fret—it leads only to evil. For evil men will be cut off, but those who hope in the Lord will inherit the land.
—Psalms 37:8–9
As always, to Jesus Christ.
You are as good as your Word.
Thanks go out to
My agent! Tamela, you rock. Thank you for your
unwavering support and belief in my writing.
God bless you!
Thanks to Officer Jim Hall with the ACFW Carolina
Christian Writers group for getting all my cop stuff
right. And if something’s not right, it’s my fault!
And once again, I thank my family and friends
for their encouragement and love as I write for the
One who gives me the stories.

CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE
Pack it up, Santino, you’ve got a murderer and a missing girl to find. His boss’s words echoed in his mind as Joseph Santino, Special Agent for the FBI, watched the Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport spread out in tiny detail below him. He’d been fine with the assignment until the man had added, “Oh, and you’ll be partnering up with a homicide detective there.” He looked down at his papers. “Catelyn Clark.”
At that point, Joseph wasn’t fine anymore. In fact, he’d done everything to get out of going, short of quitting his job. None of his arguments worked. So, here he was mentally preparing himself to face the one woman he’d never gotten over. The one woman he’d vowed to banish from his thoughts—and failed.
The plane landed, and Joseph grabbed his carry-on, anxious to get this case started so he could get it finished and get back to New York.
An hour and a half later he found himself staring down at the face of a sixteen-year-old girl laid out on the slab in the morgue.

Victim: Tracy Merritt.
Cause of death: blunt-force trauma to the back of the head.
The murder weapon: unknown and still missing.
The suspect: Dylan Carlisle.

Best friend to Joseph’s seventeen-year-old brother, Alonso.
Only the police hadn’t arrested Dylan because they didn’t have enough evidence. Yet. Joseph’s job was to find Kelly Franklin, the dead girl’s best friend who’d been reported missing the day Tracy’s body had been found. It was suspected that they’d been together and Kelly had been forcibly removed from the scene. Most likely, by the killer.
What a mess. Joseph sighed and turned away shaking his head.
His buddy, Victor Shields, captain of criminal investigations within the local police department, willingly offered Joseph his services and resources. Joseph had been a uniformed cop under Victor’s leadership before moving to the FBI. About a year after working in New York, Victor had called him for help. Joseph had responded and found the man’s runaway teenage daughter, bringing her home safely.
Now, business brought Joseph home once again. Only this time, the missing person hit close to home. A student at the Palmetto Deaf School, Kelly was not only Dylan’s girlfriend, but she was also a friend of Alonso, Joseph’s deaf brother.
Joseph’s heart tightened as he thought about his family. Having a deaf brother, mother and sister, Joseph, the eldest of six siblings, had grown up as the protector of the clan. Active in the deaf community, knowledgeable about the tight, small world within their own culture, Joseph knew he was the perfect person for this job. Because he was accepted as part of the deaf world, he could ask questions and get answers where other hearing cops couldn’t. At least not in a timely manner. And with one girl dead and another missing, time was of the essence.
He looked up at Kip Kennedy, the medical examiner, a balding man in his late fifties Joseph had known from his beat cop days. “I’m going to find out who did this to her.”
Kip sighed, shook his head. “I don’t know what this world is coming to. Kids dying, teenagers being snatched. It ain’t right. Unfortunately, the killer didn’t leave his calling card.”
“I want to know everything you find on this girl. I don’t care if you think it’s not important. Okay?”
“Sure. I’ll give you everything. I promise.” He looked down at the girl who’d never smile, never grow up, never have her own family. “It’s the least she deserves, and I’ll do my best to give you the tools to find the one who did this to her.”
Dead kids tied him in knots. Joseph did his best to shut down emotion and focus on the facts. “Thanks, Kip. I appreciate it.”
A young woman in her mid-twenties popped her head in the door. “The Merritt family is here.”
Kip nodded, looked up at Joseph and grimaced, his bald head shining in the overhead fluorescent light. “This is the part I really hate.”
“Yeah.”

Grabbing a lightweight jacket, Detective Catelyn Clark headed back to the Palmetto Deaf School. Tracy Merritt’s body had already been removed from the campus and taken to the morgue. As a homicide detective with the Spartanburg police force, Catelyn had been one of the first on the scene. She’d watched the crime-scene investigators do their job and had pitched in where she could. They’d found a baseball jacket and a flip-flop among other things that may or may not be related to the case. The flip-flop had been identified as belonging to Kelly Franklin, the missing girl.
But still, she wanted to go over the scene one more time. Before the yellow tape was removed and the school went back to normal. Her partner, Ethan O’Hara, was away on vacation with his bride of one year. He’d return home tomorrow, but would still have a couple of days off before returning to work. He’d spend them with his wife, Marianna. The man was so happy, it was disgusting. And incredibly sweet. Longing rose up in her, and she immediately vanquished it.
Only one man had ever tempted her to think about the possibility of matrimony, and she’d gotten burned as a result. Two years ago Joseph Santino had been on the verge of asking her to marry him—and she’d been so close to throwing caution to the wind and saying yes. Then she’d found out his true expectations of what he felt a wife should be and she’d shoved him away with both hands—and he’d left, moved to another state. Which was just as well, she reminded herself. Joseph’s actions had simply reinforced a decision she’d made long ago. She would never marry another officer—tempted though she might have been once upon a time.
Because if there was one thing she was sure about in this life, it was the fact that two cops married to each other simply created a war zone.
Her parents had certainly taught her that.
And why she was even thinking along those lines puzzled her. It must be because her boss had told her who she’d be working this case with: Joseph Santino. Groaning in frustration at her inability to shove her resurrected thoughts about that man from her mind, she desperately focused on the task before her. Find who killed Tracy Merritt and arrest the creep.
Period.
Pulling into the gate, she flashed her badge at security. This school had seen a lot of police action lately. Just a little over a year ago, teacher Marianna O’Hara, Joseph’s deaf sister, had been held hostage in her classroom by a power hungry politician. Thankfully, that situation had ended peacefully.
And now this.
Briefly, Catelyn wondered if she should remove herself from the case. Being the ex-girlfriend of the main FBI agent called in to assist with the case might cause a few raised eyebrows—if they knew.
But that was the past.
She’d worry about him later.
Now, she turned her thoughts to the young man who was the main suspect in the case: Dylan Carlisle. A hotheaded teen who convincingly protested his innocence.
Yeah, right. She’d been up that road before, had the scar to prove it and wasn’t buying it this time around.
Dylan hadn’t been arrested yet, but if the evidence continued to build, she’d have him in jail so fast his head would spin, convincing protests notwithstanding.
At the crime scene, she pulled to a stop and stepped out of the car. The scene had been cleared by the authorities, but not yet cleaned up. Good. She’d have a chance to go over it one more time.
The lone figure standing inside the yellow tape made her pull up and stare. He couldn’t be here already. Surely not. The figure turned and met her gaze.
Yep, it was him.
Sucking in a deep breath, she blew it out slowly, telling herself to calm down. Praying her voice didn’t shake at the sudden shock of seeing him, she said, “Hello, Joseph.”

Joseph stared. He couldn’t help it. It had been two years since he’d seen Catelyn. Even though he’d returned home to visit family during that time, he’d never run into her. She’d made herself scarce during his visits in spite of the fact that she’d stayed friends with his sister Alissa.
But he’d thought about her. Thought about calling, finding her, asking her to clarify what went wrong with their relationship. And each time he thought about it, he pushed the feelings aside, not wanting to put himself back in a place where he could be hurt again. And she had hurt him because she’d seemed to walk away from him without ever making her reasons clear. At the time, he’d been furious with her, confused and pained by her actions—and, he admitted to himself, prideful. So he’d let her have her space and time passed.
But he’d missed her. She’d practically grown up in his house and Joseph had loved her since she’d been a teenager with a chip on her shoulder. She’d fit right in with his family, six brothers and sisters, his mom and dad and a grandmother.
Catelyn had adopted them all and learned the language they’d used most around the house: ASL, American Sign Language.
And now she was even prettier than he remembered. With a glint in her eye that said she wasn’t happy to see him.
Well, too bad. He was here to stay until the end. No matter what it took to find Kelly and put Tracy’s killer behind bars. Even if it meant dealing with Catelyn and old feelings that had never truly died.
“Hello, Catie.”
“Don’t call me that. My name’s Catelyn.”
Nope, she hadn’t changed a bit. Just as contrary as she ever was. “Fine,” he clipped. “Catelyn, what do you think about this case so far? Any new leads on Kelly or Tracy?”
Compassion softened her gaze for a moment. “No, nothing yet. Kelly’s poor family, they’re beside themselves. And her brother, Billy…” She shook her head. “He’s having a hard time. They go to my church and I’ve known them awhile. You never had a chance to meet them as they came after you left.”
He ignored her dig. She’d been the one to send him on his way. His gaze swept the scene again as he wondered how to respond. Then decided not to.
In spite of the fact that the scene had been cleared, he’d slipped blue crime-scene booties over his shoes so as not to disturb anything in the area. He couldn’t help it. He simply couldn’t walk a crime scene without them. He watched as Catelyn went ahead and slipped a pair over her shoes. Apparently she felt the same way.
Attention to detail.
Notice everything; mentally record the scene to pull up later. And write everything down. Good notes were essential. He had no doubt Catelyn’s would be unquestionably precise and detailed.
“Dylan’s jacket was found there,” she offered.
“Where?” Joseph’s head snapped up. Victor hadn’t mentioned anything about a jacket.
She scraped a hand through that silky blond mane that never seemed to stay where she wanted it. He remembered smoothing it down, around her cheeks, his fingers grazing skin so soft, he…
Clearing his throat, he asked, “What was his jacket doing at the crime scene? He doesn’t even go to this school anymore now that he’s playing baseball with Esterman High.”
“I know. We pulled him in for questioning and he claims he met Kelly here, they were walking, she was cold and he gave her his jacket.”
“So how did it wind up on the ground?” He pointed to the marker indicating where the jacket had been found.
“He says he has no idea. That he left his jacket with her and he was going to come back to get it the next day, which would be today. Tracy was found last night. We still haven’t heard anything from Kelly.”
“You don’t believe him.” Joseph stated it as fact, his eyes never leaving her face. If he hadn’t been studying her so intently, he would have missed the brief flicker of regret.
She shrugged, turning back to assess the scene. He wondered if she was just avoiding looking at him. She said, “I don’t know, Joseph. And that’s the truth. I don’t want to think Dylan capable of something like this. Dylan’s aunt is a dispatcher with the department. His mom is a single mother and while his dad’s in the picture, he’s not around much. Dylan’s track record isn’t great, and kids do stupid stuff all the time that turns deadly.” Another shrug. “Who knows? I’m reserving judgment until all the evidence is in.”
“Alonso sent me a text message. Dylan’s a good friend of his, of our family. Alonso firmly believes in his buddy’s innocence and is begging me to prove it.” He blew out a sigh and looked at her. “You’ve already got him tried and found guilty, haven’t you?”
“No.” Her eyes got that glint again, the one that said he was walking a fine line, and she was having trouble holding on to her temper. Not for the first time he thought she should have been a redhead. “I didn’t say that. I said I’m following the evidence.”
“And what if that evidence is all circumstantial and yet still leads back to Dylan?”
“Then I’ll arrest him.”

Catelyn hated the tension between the two of them. Once upon a time, Joseph had been her best friend, her confidante, the only man who’d ever made her seriously think about tossing away her personal rule about never marrying a cop. She turned away from him, walked to the edge of the tape.
His voice came from her right. “What else did they find?”
“A ring with some blood on it.” She kept her words clipped, professional.
“The girl’s or someone else’s?”
“Don’t know yet. It just went into the lab. You know how fast the turnaround time is.” Sarcasm dripped off the words.
Joseph snorted. “Yeah.”
Catelyn came closer, asking the question she’d wondered for the last couple of years—ever since he’d left. “So, how have you been?”
“Good. Just working a lot. New York’s a fascinating city.”
“I’m sure.” Now she was stuck. Backed into that awkward conversational corner, silence stretching, making her itch to escape.
Joseph walked the perimeter, just inside the tape. Bending down, he touched the grass. “There was some kind of scuffle here. The grass is really torn up in this spot. I mean, I know it’s a school with kids everywhere, but this area’s kind of off the beaten path.”
Relieved to be back on a safe topic, she said, “Yes, the crime-scene guys looked it over, got the pictures. No prints, though. The ground’s too hard.”
Glancing at the sky, Joseph lamented, “Could have used the rain that’s coming this afternoon a couple of days ago.”
She walked a few feet outside the tape. Several strategically placed large boulders lined the curving entrance to the school. More were placed under the shade trees near the pasture where students like to gather in the afternoon. Catelyn scanned them and something caught her attention. She leaned down, pulling the small high-powered digital camera from her pocket. She snapped two pictures of the item, then pulled out a glove. Just because something turned up outside the tape, didn’t mean it wasn’t evidence. With a steady hand, she picked it up.
Wood. About two inches wide by six inches long.
Looking around, she spied the trees, a wooden play set off to the left, wooden cedar chips had been spread near the horse pasture. The wooden fence. Wood everywhere. Carefully, she studied the piece. Scanned the wood surrounding her once more. It didn’t really match anything nearby. Possibly the light, wooden play set.
So what was it?
“What have you got?”
“I was just trying to figure that out. It’s a piece of wood, but I don’t know what kind or where it came from. There’s nothing else around here like it. See, it’s smooth on this side, but rough around the edges and underneath.”
He came closer, stood next to her to inspect the piece. She shivered at the proximity and had to concentrate on his words so she wouldn’t think how wonderful it felt to have him near again. He was saying, “Could be part of that play set. They just built it.”
“It’s probably nothing, but…” Catelyn snagged a plastic bag from her pocket, one she’d stuck in there just in case. She dropped the piece into it and moved a couple of inches away. She couldn’t breathe with him that close. It galled her he could still stir her up when she just wanted to forget the anger and hurt he’d left her with two years ago. “I’ll just get this over to the lab. They’ll be able to tell us what kind of wood it is.”
“Sometime in this century, I hope.” He sounded jaded, resigned.
“Ah!”
The guttural cry brought them both around. Alonso, Joseph’s brother stood there with Dylan Carlisle. Joseph took note of Dylan’s clenched fists, ragged breathing and air of desperation. Seeing he had their attention, he signed, “I didn’t do it. I didn’t kill Tracy!”

TWO
Joseph strode to his brother and the distraught young man. He gripped Dylan’s shoulders and squeezed, hoping to transmit understanding and comfort. Dropping his hands, he signed, “We’re going to find out who did.”
Alonso shifted, anxiety oozing from him. Joseph had sent a text message to his brother to let him know that he had arrived in town and would see him soon, but after his visit to the morgue, Joseph had come straight to the crime scene.
Alonso and Dylan had come to find him. He studied the lanky young suspect in front of him. Frantic blue eyes, blond hair, a smattering of freckles across a sharp nose and pale cheeks. Then Alonso, who was Dylan’s physical opposite. A little shorter with brown eyes and dark skin, he was a younger version of Joseph, their Italian heritage prominently displayed.
A small cut on Dylan’s chin looked angry, red. Alonso had a bit of stubble that had already grown out since this morning. His little brother and his friends were already shaving, growing up. Were grown up, he realized. Dylan was considered a man and old enough to be tried as an adult if convicted of murder. What would that do to Alonso who fervently believed in his friend’s innocence?
Joseph signed, “I believe you. Unless I find solid evidence to the contrary, I believe you. Okay?”
Chest still heaving, Dylan glared back at Joseph, and Joseph flinched at the agony in the boy’s eyes. Either the kid was an excellent actor or he was telling the truth.
Catelyn came up to sign, “You two shouldn’t be here.”
Joseph wanted to tell her to stay away, but she was right, neither of the teens should be here. Wrapping one arm around his brother’s shoulder, and the other around Dylan, he steered them back to the idling vehicle Alonso had left in the middle of the road. With his free hand, Joseph signed, “Let’s go home. Catelyn will take care of this.”
Dylan shot Catelyn one last glare that gradually turned pleading. “Please believe me.”
Compassion flickered briefly before her expression solidified into granite. “I’ll believe the evidence.”
This time Joseph shot her a hard look as he turned the boys toward the car once more. Joseph signed and spoke to his brother, “You two go to the house. I’ll follow you there and we’ll talk, all right?”
“Wait a minute,” Catelyn protested, “this is my case, too. If you’re going to question him, I need to be there.”
Joseph turned back to look at her, his breath hissing from his lungs. Even driving him crazy, even in the midst of a murder investigation and, yes, even exhibiting her bulldog tenacity, she still had the power to stop him in his tracks with her beauty. He really had to get over that. She’d made it clear she didn’t want anything to do—romantically—with him.
Hands on her hips, feet planted wide, she thrust her jaw forward and narrowed her eyes. Arguing with her would be fruitless.
Besides, she was right. They were there to work together. They both had a common goal. Find the bad guy. He had to put aside his personal feelings and keep his heart under control. “I’m not questioning them in any official capacity right now. I’m just talking to my brother and his friend.” He paused. “But, all right, come on. I’m staying with my parents right now, so why don’t you meet us there?”
Shock at easy acquiescence flashed across her features before she could cover it up. But she didn’t hesitate. “Right, see you there.”
During the ten-minute drive, Alonso practically superglued himself to Joseph’s bumper. Catelyn kept a safer distance back probably trying to figure out his motive for agreeing to her presence.
The truth was, Joseph’s gut was telling him that Dylan had nothing to do with the disappearance of Kelly or the death of Tracy. What he wasn’t completely sure of was whether Dylan had been entirely truthful about his reason for being on the campus. It made sense, and yet…
Hopefully, they would get to the bottom of this and find Kelly before she turned up dead, too.

Catelyn called in her destination and let her captain know Joseph was in town and they’d met up at the crime scene. Dylan was still a suspect, but the evidence thus far was flimsy. He still had his freedom until something else turned up. Whereas Catelyn thought he was guilty, she could tell Joseph believed the boy.
Great.
They were immediately working the case from opposite sides. God, I know when I became a Christian all those years ago, You never promised me an easy life, but things are getting too complicated too fast. First my mother, now Joseph?
Catelyn didn’t have any doubts about Joseph’s investigative skills. That didn’t concern her. Working in close proximity with a man she had once had feelings for, did. Of course those feelings were gone now.
Yeah. Right.
No, if she were honest, she’d admit seeing Joseph had unsettled her. In a big way.
She pulled into the driveway of the home that had become her refuge. Thank goodness for Joseph’s sister Gina, who’d befriended Catelyn in high school, or she may never have seen a family as God intended one to be. She’d grown up with the perfect example of what a family wasn’t. Because of the Santino family, Catelyn grew to love the Lord and came to understand what a personal relationship with Him meant.
Thank you, Lord. Now, about Joseph…She sighed. I don’t even know what to pray, God. Just…be there, please?
Caught by a long red light, she was the last to arrive. Joseph had parked on the curb, Alonso in the drive off to the side. Joseph, Dylan and Alonso were deep into a signed conversation when Catelyn pulled in behind Joseph. Just as she set the car in Park, a black Jeep swerved around her screeching to a halt, blocking the drive.
She jumped at the sudden intrusion.
What?
A teenager about Alonso’s age threw himself from the Jeep and raced toward the boys. The furious expression on his face had Catelyn calling out, “Hey!”
Joseph turned at her yell, concern and shock twisting his features as the boy didn’t stop, but tackled Dylan to the ground and began pummeling him with both fists, his shrieks of outrage piercing her ears. Alonso threw himself into the fight, trying to protect his friend.
“Whoa!” Joseph tried to grab a punching fist and caught one on the chin for his effort. His head jerked back and he winced, then waded back in to the fray. This time, he grabbed the boy by his belt and yanked, tossing him to the side. The young guy landed with a grunt, scrambled to his feet and started to lunge back at Dylan. Alonso lurched to take a swing at the teen and Joseph stiff-armed him back.
Catelyn stepped in front of the attacker. The surprise of seeing her had him stumbling to a sudden halt, arms pinwheeling, feet dancing backward.
Adrenaline rushing at the surprise attack, she placed a hand against his chest and shoved, mimicking Joseph’s method to keep his brother out of the action. Knocked off balance, the boy went down on his rear. Noticing his hearing aids, she signed to him, “Stop, now.”
Joseph had Dylan’s arms pinned down, but the boy wasn’t struggling, although it looked like he wanted to. Joseph let him go, and Dylan shook his arms then reached up to dab at a cut above his right eye. Alonso hauled himself to his feet. “Chad? What do you think you’re doing?” he signed furiously.
“He killed Tracy!”
“He did not!” Alonso protested. “How could you even think that?” Four hands flew through the conversation. Joseph eyed Catelyn with a warning to stay out of it for now. She backed off and watched the boys yell at each other.
Dylan defended himself, saying, “I was there with Kelly, but I left. Tracy was fine when I left. I don’t know what happened later.”
“You knew Tracy wanted Kelly to break up with you and you told her to stay out of it ‘or else.’ I saw you.”
Dylan looked shocked, then nodded. “Yeah, I did, but I didn’t mean I’d kill her. Get real, man. I just meant I wouldn’t have anything else to do with her. I’d get her blackballed from the group.” He threw his hands up in the air as though in disbelief.
Catelyn almost believed Dylan. He looked so convincing. She fingered the scar on her left arm. Yeah, so had the kid who knifed her in thanks for giving him the benefit of the doubt. She wasn’t falling for that one again.
“We need to either go down to the department where we can hash this all out or find a spot around here to get to the bottom of this.” She pulled out her notebook and pen.
Joseph motioned to the porch. Chad’s hands shook, his fury still palpable, but Catelyn detected grief beneath the anger. Tracy must have meant a lot to him. And what was that about Tracy wanting Kelly to break up with Dylan?
“Joseph, can you give Dylan’s and Chad’s parents a call and let them know what’s going on? I want to do this by the book. I’m not making an arrest—yet—so we can do this here, but I definitely want these parents aware of what’s going on. Plus, Chad’s in no shape to drive home. Someone needs to get his car.”
He pulled his BlackBerry out. “Sure.” He got the numbers from a reluctant Chad and a still-fuming Dylan. Soon he had Chad’s parents on the way and had left a message for Dylan’s mother and one for the kid’s father. They were divorced, but shared custody.
“If this turns into an official investigation interrogation, we’ll have to move it downtown,” Joseph warned.
“Of course. Right now, I just want to talk to Dylan. Informally. He’s over fourteen, I don’t need his parents’ permission for that.”
Nodding, Joseph took a seat on the swing. The still-glowering, yet subdued boys sat in opposite corners of the porch. Catelyn planted herself in a rocker between them. She kept silent hoping one of them would be ready to burst forth with information by the time she got around to asking some questions.
The door to the house swung open and Alonso’s father, Geovani Santino, stepped out.

“I heard a bunch of commotion out here.” Spying Dylan, he signed, “What happened to your eye?”
“My friend went nutso on me.” Dylan’s fingers flew, hands shaped the words and his glare notched up a bit in intensity. Chad Markham, a student at the deaf school and a member of the high school baseball team, fumed, fists clenched at his side.
Joseph raised a calming hand, then watched as a compact car pulled in behind Chad’s Jeep. Chad noticed it, too, and snapped his lips together in a mutinous expression of defiance.
Chad’s parents bolted from the car and raced up the porch. “Chad? What’s going on?” His mother stopped on the top step taking everything in.
Joseph intervened, introduced everyone and explained the situation. Catelyn let him take over. He looked at her face. Take over for now, anyway.
He made sure the parents knew that this wasn’t a formal interrogation. Rather just a “getting together” to see what they could come up with and see if any new information came to light.
Once everyone was settled, Catelyn asked, “Chad, tell us why you think Dylan had something to do with Tracy’s death and Kelly’s disappearance.”
“Because he was there. He said he left, but he didn’t, at least I don’t believe him. He and Kelly and Tracy all had a huge argument earlier that day. He was really mad at Tracy and told her she’d better watch her mouth, or else. I’m Kelly’s friend, her best friend. She was tired of Dylan always telling her who she could hang out with and who she couldn’t. She told me so.”
Catelyn cocked a brow Dylan. The boy leaned over and grasped his head with his hands. She tapped him on the shoulder and signed, “That true?”
A huge sigh rippled through him. “Yes.”
“Anything else you want to add? Because while you keep insisting on your innocence, you’re sure leaving out some chunks of need-to-know information.”
Dylan shook his head. “We argued. So what? We argued all the time. Tracy didn’t like me and didn’t try to hide it. I didn’t like her, either. She was bossy and pushy and…”
“And what?” Joseph practically growled.
“And Kelly’s best friend.” He shot a glance at Chad. “Not him. Tracy wanted Kelly to break up with me and date her brother, Zachary. I was afraid…” He trailed off again, rubbing his eyes as though trying to erase a headache. Everyone sat silent. “I was afraid she was going to convince Kelly I wasn’t good enough for her so I told her to mind her own business and keep her mouth shut.”
“Why didn’t you tell us this when we had you in for questioning?” Catelyn demanded.
Tears filled the boy’s eyes. “Because it makes it look like I had a reason to…do…something to Tracy.” He stood and paced from one end of the porch to the other. Then turned to say, “But I didn’t! I swear! I mean, I sure didn’t like her, but I would never hurt her.”
Joseph frowned at the constant protestations of innocence. He watched Catelyn’s expressions, her eyes. The more the boy talked, the more she became convinced he did do something. And Joseph had a moment of wondering himself. Could it be that Dylan had killed Tracy? Possibly in a fit of anger? An accident?
Blunt-force trauma was the cause of death. Had he picked up a rock and hit her? Pushed her down so she cracked her head against something? But there’d been no sign of that kind of thing at the crime scene. No, the murder weapon was portable.
And the killer either ditched it far enough from the crime scene that the crime-scene unit didn’t come across it—or he still had it.

More questioning led nowhere. Dylan said he wouldn’t press charges as long as Chad left him alone. The boys were told to stay away from each other, and Chad’s parents took him home. Alonso went to his room and shut the door. Dylan’s mother, who finally arrived, was filled in on the incident. She expressed her concern, asking to be kept in the loop if anything new happened in the investigation. His father never showed up.
After the mass departure, Catelyn studied the floor of the porch, thinking. She felt in her gut the kid knew way more than he was telling, she just couldn’t prove it.
But she would.
Alonso would be upset, and Joseph would hurt for his brother, but…
She stood, straightened her spine as she walked toward her car. He was a cop. A good one. He wouldn’t argue the arrest if she had enough evidence, knew he would be right there with her reading the kid his rights if it came down to it. Granted, Dylan’s jacket turning up at the scene didn’t look good, but his explanation was reasonable. Girls wore their boyfriends’ jackets all the time.
So far, nothing had come back from the lab, but she didn’t really expect anything this early even with the rush she knew would be on the evidence. With a missing teen, time was of the essence. She’d call Sandy Newman, a tech in the crime lab and a woman Catelyn called friend, to see if Sandy could rush it even faster.
“Hey.”
She stopped, turned to find Joseph leaning against a porch pillar, watching her. This time her shiver had nothing to do with anger. She remembered how it felt to slip into his arms and rest her head against his broad shoulder, remembered what it felt like to feel secure, safe. As if the rest of the world didn’t matter and everything would be all right.
His sudden change of expectations about certain things in their relationship had crushed her. She’d grown up promising herself she’d be different than her parents, have a different life, a solid marriage.
At first, she’d never thought about dating Joseph simply because he was already rising through the ranks of the local police department.
Then one night, they’d been sitting outside talking after a huge family meal and he’d asked her if she’d like to go on a date with him. She’d hesitated because of his profession, then assured herself that this was Joseph. He knew her dreams, her hopes—her career. During the time she’d been at the academy, all through school, he’d supported her, encouraged her. And so it had begun. She’d fallen head over heels in love with him and he with her.
Until he’d suddenly started talking about “after we’re married.” About how he was excited because he would make enough money to allow her to stay home. And how God had blessed him in allowing him to find a woman who held the same values as his mother.
And her world had come crashing down. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. He wanted her to shelve her career and become the kind of wife she’d vowed never to be.
At least it had seemed sudden, she thought. Had the signs been there the entire time and she’d just chosen to ignore them?
She’d been devastated that he would ask her to give up her career to make him happy. No way. She knew where that argument would lead.
And yet she couldn’t deny the attraction between them had sizzled, both physically and emotionally. She’d been drawn to his softer side, the one he refused to allow anyone to really see. That, and the fact that, deep down, he had a heart for comforting hurting people.
And it was definitely still there—the attraction, all of it. She held her tongue and just looked at him, hoping her face didn’t reveal her inner turmoil.
Finally, he started toward her, hands jammed into his pockets. “Can we talk?”
“About what?”
“Us.”
“That’s not even a topic, Joseph. There is no ‘us,’ hasn’t been for a while now.”
“There could be. What we had, Catie…”
She ignored the shortened version of her name. He only called her that when they were alone.
“Had. As in the past. You never once said anything about me quitting my job until I was halfway in love with you and thinking marriage. And then you come out with these expectations and blindsided me.”
“I didn’t realize…and you shut me out.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Without even giving us a chance to work through it.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. You simply reinforced what I already knew. Why it wouldn’t be a good idea to marry a cop.” She threw her hands up. “And why are we even having this conversation anyway? Look. Your brother’s friend is in trouble. Let’s just see where all this ends up before we do anything stupid like talk about…us.”
His jaw clenched; his fingers curled into a fist. “If you—we—have to arrest Dylan, I’ll have to figure out how to help Alonso deal with it. But for now, we have to work together. Without letting our past interfere. Can we do that?”
“We can try.”
“Deal.”
He reached out to grasp her hand in a handshake and the tingles that danced up her arm told her she might talk a good game about ignoring their feelings for each other, but actually putting her words into actions was going to take a lot more work than she’d bargained for.

THREE
Joseph stared over Catelyn’s shoulder at the autopsy report. Nothing new there. And nothing new about his inability to keep himself from noticing how good she smelled. Just like he remembered. A combination of vanilla shampoo and strong coffee.
“Hey, look at this,” she said, just as he inched back a tad to put a little distance between his nose and her hair. She pointed to the list of items found with Tracy. “An iPod. An expensive one.”
“Did they run the serial number on it?”
“Yes, and would you look at that?”
“Stolen.”
“That kind of makes you sit up and go, ‘hmm,’ doesn’t it?”
“So what does a deaf kid do with an iPod. She must not have been totally deaf. Who reported it stolen?”
She shuffled to the next page. “Here. The Whites. Abe and Eva White on the west side of town.”
“A breaking and entering. There’s been a rash of those lately, hasn’t there?”
“Yep. The guys working it think it’s gang related, but haven’t been able to connect any specific members to the break-ins yet.”
“This might be your connection right here. Go back to the autopsy report.”
She did and he pointed out the tattoo. “She had a tattoo of a skull around her belly button.”
“The symbol of the new and up-and-coming local gang, The Skulls. We just had a whole session on gang training a month ago.”
Joseph sighed. “So now they’ve infiltrated the deaf school.”
“But Tracy spent the majority of her school day at the regular high school. It could be that the gang’s not originating on the deaf campus, but the local high school campus.”
“Or neither.”
“Right. So Tracy was a gang member, we know that much. She’s also in possession of stolen merchandise. Which brings me to the questions: Does Dylan know about this? Does he know anything about the breaking and entering and thefts going on? Is he a member of the gang?”
“A lot of good questions.” He closed his eyes, picturing Alonso’s thin, but well-muscled frame. He shook his head. “I can’t remember my brother having a tattoo, but I haven’t seen him without his shirt, either. I can’t imagine him getting involved in that, but I’ll ask Alonso later.”
Catelyn shot him a look that said she thought he had his rose-tinted glasses back on. Thankfully, she kept her opinion to herself. He’d have to prove Dylan’s innocence one way or another. And if the kid was guilty…
“Did Dylan ever say why Tracy was so adamant about Kelly breaking up with him?”
Joseph shook his head. “Nothing specific. Just that her brother wanted to go out with Kelly and she kept turning him down because she was Dylan’s girlfriend.”
“What’s Tracy’s brother’s name again?”
“Zachary.”
“So, we need to talk to Zachary about this gang that his sister was a part of.”
“Looks like. And my bet is that if she was a part of it, so is he.”
“He’s not deaf. He’s hearing and goes to Esterman High.” She pushed back from her desk and wisps of blond hair tickled his chin sending shards of longing to clench his gut. Somehow, some way, they were going to have to work things out because she had already burrowed her way under in skin in less than twenty-four hours. Just the thought of telling her goodbye again was painful enough to know that having to go through the real thing again would probably rip his heart to shreds.
Pushing aside his personal agenda, he said, “I suppose we should give the family a call and let them know we want to talk to Zachary. I’m guessing he’s probably not back at school yet so soon after Tracy’s death.”
Catelyn got on the phone and made the call. Joseph got up to stretch a minute and say something to one of the other detectives he’d worked with a few years back.
When she hung up, Catelyn turned to him and frowned. “He’s not there.”
“So, where is he?”
“His mother didn’t know. She said he got a text after lunch and said he was going to meet up with a friend. She hasn’t heard from him since.”
“When’s Tracy’s funeral?”
“Tomorrow. Visitation is this afternoon.”
“I’ve got a feeling we need to see if he shows up to the visitation.”
“And who he shows up with.”

Catelyn scanned the sea of faces heading in to pay respects to the family. Mostly teenagers, teachers, probably some church members. The line to greet the family and offer sympathy extended well down the hall to snake around to the entrance to the funeral home. The front door stood open and Joseph waited off to the side, dressed in a suit and tie.
She nearly stumbled in her uncomfortable medium-height heels. She’d never had a problem walking in them before so she couldn’t blame her sudden clumsiness on the shoes.
No, it was Joseph. What was she going to do about him? He exuded strength, authority, and was completely at ease in his six-foot-two-inch frame. At five feet eight she didn’t consider herself a short woman, but next to him, she always felt petite, feminine. Something that didn’t happen very often around other men. And Joseph was definitely the only man who’d ever made her palms sweat. She rubbed them on her black skirt and tried to paste a serene expression on her face.
His smile greeted her with a warmth that nearly caused the upward tilt of her lips to take a downward turn. So much for serenity.
Have a little backbone, Catelyn. And, Lord, if You’d help me control my wayward emotions here, I’d really appreciate it.
He held the door open and she slipped in, nearly jumping out of her skin when his hand dropped to the small of her back. He’s only being a gentleman, she told herself. Relax.
Easier said than done. From the back of the line, they waited, watching.
A few more people trickled in, and the line in front of them moved slowly, but consistently. Catelyn kept her eyes peeled. “See him?”
“No, but he’s probably with the family in the receiving room. I can’t get a good view yet. A few more inches and I’ll be able to see if he’s in there.”
Catelyn lost her balance and stumbled into the person in front of her. Joseph caught her arm before she could do much damage. The woman turned to see who’d knocked against her and Catelyn felt her face flush. “I’m so sorry. I don’t wear heels often and…” She trailed off when the woman laughed and waved a hand as though brushing the incident aside.
“Don’t worry about it. Happens to the best of us.” A frown pinched her brows. “It’s a shame, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry?”
The young woman who looked to be in her early forties stood there holding the hand of a child about six years old. She had a brace on her other hand. “Just a shame. Tracy used to babysit for us on a regular basis.”
“Oh, so you knew her well?”
“Absolutely. A great kid. Well, a great kid with a lot of faults, but I liked her. Oh, I’m sorry.” She held out a hand that Joseph and Catelyn took turns shaking. “I’m Stacy Dillard. My husband, Alan Dillard, is the baseball coach at Esterman High School.” She placed a loving hand on the child’s head.
“This is Alan Jr.”
“I’m six,” the little guy piped in. “My mom hurt her hand.”
Catelyn smiled at him and shook his hand. “Nice to meet you Alan Jr.”
Stacy gave a self-conscious laugh and held up her hand. “Carpal tunnel. Anyway, I wasn’t sure if I should bring him or not, but my mother couldn’t babysit today and I didn’t want to miss…” Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them back. Taking a deep breath, she blew it out. “Tracy’s brother, Zachary, is our catcher.”
Joseph spoke up. “Then you know Dylan Carlisle.”
The woman’s green eyes brightened, the tears fading. “Oh, sure, he used to hang around Zachary quite a lot. We have the team over for cookouts and such about once a month.” Her brows drew together in a slight frown. “I haven’t seen much of Dylan lately, though. How’s he doing? Is he here?”
“He’s upset about Tracy, of course, but other than that, he seems to be doing all right. And no, he’s not here.”
“I know you consider him a suspect, don’t you?” When neither Catelyn nor Joseph responded, she frowned. “Alan said you did. Dylan told him about being questioned by the police.” She let out a sigh. “I can’t see Dylan as having anything to do with Tracy’s death. If the police need a suspect, they need to be looking at Zachary, if you ask me.” She herded the child in front of her toward the door. “Well, I was waiting for Alan. He told me he’d meet me in the line, but he’s probably talking to someone and got held up. I guess I’d better see if I can find him. It’s good to meet you.”
She started to hurry off, but stopped when Catelyn laid a restraining hand on her arm. “Wait a minute. Why do you say that? About Zachary, I mean.”
The woman shrugged. “He and Tracy fought constantly. I even saw him shove her into the fence one day after a game. I don’t know what she said to him, but he didn’t like it. Tracy and Dylan argued some, too, but Dylan never put his hands on her like Zachary did. I don’t have anything other than just my feelings when I say Zachary should be a suspect.” She sighed. “And I probably shouldn’t have even said anything. Excuse me.” This time Catelyn didn’t stop her as she hurried off.
Catelyn looked at Joseph. “So Zachary plays on the baseball team and has a temper. And Dylan is known to hang out with him. Teammates and friends?”
“No crime in that. She also said she hadn’t seen Dylan in a while.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe the boys are former friends. I’ll have to ask Alonso and see what he says. Maybe it’s as simple as Dylan and Zachary had a falling out and he was avoiding being around him. That would explain why she hadn’t seen Dylan around—because he was doing his best to stay out of trouble.”
“Maybe.”
“I still want to know if Zachary’s a part of this gang. And who he was with earlier while his family was at home grieving.”
“As soon as we can get to him, we’ll find out.”
She spotted Stacy Dillard coming back her way. The poor thing looked harried. “I guess I’ll just wait here. I can’t find Alan anywhere.” Still clutching Alan Jr.’s hand, she slipped back into the line in front of Catelyn and Joseph. “Do you mind if I take my spot back?”
“Of course not. Go ahead.”
Stacy did and started talking to the person in front of her.
Catelyn stepped to the side to peer around the shifting line of bodies and into the visitation room. “I think I see him,” she told Joseph. “Standing next to his mother and younger brother.”
“Yep, that’s him.”
“Just a little closer. Oh, look, everyone’s standing.”
Zachary shook the next person’s hand, looking uncomfortable in his black suit and red tie. Tall, with the build of a natural athlete, he shifted, his eyes moving to and fro. He didn’t even bother to try and smile to the people offering condolences; in fact, he looked ready to bolt.
Catelyn leaned in a little closer to Joseph. “You got your running shoes on?”
“I was just thinking the same thing. Why would he run, though? We just want to talk to him?”
“Maybe he thinks that we think he knows something.”
“Yeah, and he’s scared he’ll tell us if we catch him.”
“Then let’s catch him.”
Two more steps forward. Zachary’s eyes raised, caught on Catelyn’s, flitted to the man beside her and widened. The fear in his face couldn’t be missed, not even with the distance still between them.
Sweat turned his face shiny and he shifted, glanced at his mother’s back, his sister in the now-closed coffin—and the door on the other side of the room.
“He’s gonna make a run for it,” Joseph predicted.
“I’m going to cover the other door. You get him from this side.”
“Right.”
Catelyn slipped out of line and headed down the short hall to the door that opened to the hallway around the corner. The open balcony above her now stood empty, occupied only moments before by friends and family who were now greeting the bereaved. If Zachary made it outside to his car, she’d lose him. Or he would have plenty of hiding places in the cemetery with the huge markers.
Rounding the corner, she was just in time to see a figure dart from the visitation room and head in the opposite direction.
“Zachary, stop! We just want to talk!”
The teen looked back once and kept going, picking up the pace to a fast jog.
Joseph came out of the room. He must have cut through in pursuit. No one else followed, so it must have been done discreetly.
“That way,” she pointed.
Together, they took off after the teen, then heard a door slam.
At the sound of a loud crack, Catelyn stopped, turned shocked eyes to Joseph who looked back at her with the same expression she knew her face wore.
“Gunshot?”
Catelyn pulled her weapon, shouting into her radio, “Shots fired,” as she raced to the door, yelling at everyone to get down. Joseph was two steps behind her, his gun drawn and ready. Shoving it open, she pulled to a stop, the sight before her sending horror up her spine.
Zachary lay in the middle of the parking lot, unmoving, blood pooling under his head.

FOUR
Five minutes later, the ambulance screamed into the parking lot across the street. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, they’d wait for the all-clear from the officers before they’d approach the scene. No matter who was hurt or how bad it was, for their own safety, medical personal could not enter the scene until it was deemed safe by officers.
Was the boy dead? Where were his parents? Were they still shaking hands with visitors, unaware their oldest son possibly lay dying—or was already dead?
Joseph gripped the tie he’d yanked from his neck, wishing he had the shooter by the throat instead. After the gunshot, Catelyn had secured the area, then bolted toward the fallen boy, placing her own life in danger, doing what she could for him while keeping an eye on the area around her.
Joseph had raced to the balcony after the shooter, knowing he was probably too late.
He found nothing but a spent cartridge. The shooter had disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared. Joseph radioed to let EMS know they could approach.
He looked around again. The person had left in a hurry and hadn’t bothered to clean up. Joseph turned back inside, studying the room. The shooter had either come up the stairs or the elevator. Joseph would bet the stairs in case there was a camera in the elevator.
But they’d check it anyway.
He walked over to a door just off the room. Twisted the knob. Locked. The sign said Employees Only.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Joseph turned to see a dark-suited man with a name tag that read Butler Dietz. Joseph asked, “What are you doing up here? Can you open this room?”
The man’s brow furrowed. “I work here.” He pulled a set of keys from his pocket, located the right one and unlocked the door. Joseph glanced in.
A room full of coffins. And everything looked relatively undisturbed. He spoke into his radio, “Set up a perimeter, question everyone, don’t let anyone leave the scene.” An affirmative answer squawked back at him.
He turned the worker, saying, “Okay, thanks. I need you out of here, too. This is a crime-scene and I need to keep it preserved.”
Flustered, the man nodded and headed for the stairs, meeting a swarm of cops coming up. Joseph motioned for one of the officers to escort the man down, then filled the rest of them in on the situation. “Crime-scene unit’s on the way.”
“We’ve got this covered,” a tall officer assured Joseph.
Joseph loped back down the steps to find Catelyn watching a man work on Zachary, the EMTs offering their assistance as it was requested.
She looked up at his approach, question in her eyes.
Joseph pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, he got away.”
“He?”
A shrug. “He, she. Whoever. The shooter’s gone. Crime scene unit’s on the way. Uniforms are preserving the scene.” He pointed to the man on his knees beside Zachary. “Who’s this guy?”
“A doctor. He insisted on trying to help.”
The man looked up. “I was late coming from the hospital for the funeral. I’m a friend of the Merritts. When I saw all the commotion, I thought I’d see if I could help.” He looked back down at Zachary who lay still and pale. “The bullet grazed his head. It didn’t enter the skull, which is a good thing, but it might have fractured it. I’ve called a neurologist. He’ll be waiting at the hospital when we get there.”
“Thanks.”
A man rushed up and said, “Oh my…can I do anything?”
“Who are you?” Joseph queried.
“I’m Alan Dillard, the baseball coach at Esterman High. Zachary was…is one of my players. What’s going on? Who would do such a…”
“Zachary! Oh, no, oh, my…” Joseph turned to see Zachary’s mother rushing from the mortuary. The boy’s father was right behind with the younger brother bringing up the rear.
“What happened? What’s going on? Why is this happening?” The distraught woman wailed her grief, echoing the coach’s questions. Two of her three children: one dead and one severely wounded. His heart went out to her.
Alan Dillard grabbed the woman’s shoulder, keeping her from throwing herself across her son and impeding the work being done on him. “He’s getting the help he needs, ma’am.”
The EMTs let the doctor take the lead, securing Zachary’s neck in a brace, then they gently loaded the boy onto the gurney. The doctor helped, supervising the transfer, then washing his hands with the special alcohol-based soap the EMTs left for him. The ambulance pulled out, siren wailing, on the way to the hospital.
Joseph clapped the man on the shoulder. “Thanks. He might have a chance because you were here.”
“Quinn Carson.” The doctor introduced himself, holding out a hand for Joseph to shake.
“Joseph Santino. That’s my partner, Catelyn Clark.”
Catelyn nodded and gave a half smile. The ambulance disappeared around a curve.
“I need to get to the hospital. I need to be with my boy.” Zachary and Tracy’s mother wailed.
Dr. Carson turned to take the woman in his arms. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. Go and I’ll be there to check on him shortly.”
“Come on, Mrs. Merritt, Mr. Merritt. I’ll do anything I can to help. I’ll stay here and make sure everything’s finished up. Go be with Zachary,” Alan offered, his face creased in sympathy and concern.
Tears flowing, cheeks ashen, the woman nodded and took her friend’s advice. She, her husband and young son hurried to their car and took off for the hospital. Friends and family dispersed to their own vehicles in near silence, shock rendering them speechless.

Friday morning, Catelyn dragged into work feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders. After Tracy’s murder, she’d talked to her parents extensively, but they’d been basically clueless about their daughter’s activities. She sighed.
Unfortunately, parents had to work and couldn’t watch their teens twenty-four/seven, but still, she would’ve thought they would have been able to provide more information than they had.
First thing this morning, she’d called to check on Zachary and learned he still hadn’t awakened. She did learn that his abdomen sported the same tattoo his sister had. They posted a guard on his door who would also call immediately if Zachary woke up.
A quick call to a buddy who worked in the gang unit confirmed that Zachary was definitely part of the gang and had a record for some petty theft, shoplifting and one incident involving a stolen car. Although, it seemed that since baseball season had started, he’d kept his nose clean.
Deep in thought, Catelyn set her cup of coffee on her desk and tossed her purse in the bottom drawer.
“Good morning to you, too.”
She whirled to find Joseph cranked back in an old squeaky chair someone had scavenged from the storage room. A desk had been set up and he looked quite at home. Lovely.
“Hi, didn’t see you there. Looks like you’re all set up.” She hoped her aggravation wasn’t too obvious.
“Bugs you, huh?”
Clamping her teeth on her lower lip to control her tongue, she took a deep breath. It was all about self-control. Before allowing herself to respond, she picked up three phone messages and read them.
Set them back down.
Picked up her coffee and took a swig.
Then she turned to face him. And ignored his taunt. “What time did you get here?”
“About an hour ago.”
Was he trying to show her up? He’d soon learn she didn’t play that game. No, she’d grown up watching her parents trying to outdo each other, show the other who was the better cop. Catelyn had decided she’d avoid that immature behavior.
Actually, if she was honest, she didn’t remember that particular trait about Joseph. Was she just being…defensive? She did remember that could be a big tease, so maybe…he was teasing her?
Withholding judgment, she kept her cool.
He said, “I couldn’t sleep so figured I’d just come on in.” No sarcasm, no in-your-face attitude. Just fact.
That was a trait she was more comfortable with.
Relaxing, she settled in her chair. “I guess we need to plan out our day.”
“I’ve got some ideas. Do you mind if I run them by you?”
Asking her permission? This she didn’t remember. Suspicious, she eyed him. Then offered a shrug. “Sure. Fire away.”
A warm smile creased his cheeks and crinkled his eyes. Familiar attraction zinged, and Catelyn deliberately stomped on it.
“First of all, I want to get a record of Zachary’s text messages. Then, I thought we might make our way over to the crime lab and see if we can light a fire under someone. I want those DNA results back.”
“I checked on Zachary this morning and he’s still unconscious. He’s got some pretty serious neurological stuff going on. Swelling on his brain and fluid. They’ve even put him on a ventilator.” She shook her head. “They’re not sure if he’ll ever wake up. The principal of the school and Coach Dillard are letting the students organize a fund-raiser for medical expenses for Zachary. The deaf school offered its services, too. Apparently, Alan is well liked in the deaf community, thanks to his having deaf parents.”
Joseph nodded. “That’s a great thing to do and it’ll give the students something constructive to focus on. They’ve got to be traumatized by all that’s happened over the last few days.”
“To say the least. The school counselors are working overtime right now, talking in the classrooms, counseling friends of Tracy, Kelly and Zachary. They’re doing all they can do. They’ve even called in some outside help, so that’s good.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I just hope someone is helping the Merritt family. To have something so awful happen to two of your children…it’s beyond my imagination.”
Sympathy clouded her gaze for a brief moment. She nodded and said, “I want to know what it is those two kids knew that someone was willing to commit murder in order to keep it secret.”
“And I want to talk to Kelly Franklin’s brother today, too. His name is Billy. Let’s see if he can shed some light on his sister’s disappearance.”
“Sound like we’ve got our game plan.”
“Oh, and Alonso’s got a baseball game tonight. I’m planning on catching it if you want to join me.”
Speechless for a moment, Catelyn processed his statement. Gathering her wits, she shrugged. “We’ll see.”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment on her evasiveness.
As they headed out, Catelyn ignored the excitement building within her at the thought of spending so much time in Joseph’s company. Excitement or no, she reminded herself that this was the man who’d broken her heart two years ago and there was no way she was trusting him with the pieces ever again.

Pulling into the parking lot of the building that housed the local crime lab, Joseph pondered the situation silently while Catelyn called Billy Franklin’s mother to ask for permission to visit him at the school, assuring the woman that Billy was in no way considered a suspect, but they just wanted to see if he had anything else to add that might help them find his sister. Sometimes people remembered things later. After the dust settled, and the adrenaline wore off.
Tracy had been killed, and Kelly had disappeared. Why?
What did Tracy know that was worth killing for? Had Kelly been at the scene? Had she witnessed the murder and fled? Was she hiding out? Or had she witnessed it and been taken against her will? And why hadn’t the killer just killed her, too? Or had he and they just hadn’t found her body yet?
Sighing, Joseph waited until Catelyn hung up from a second call before swinging his long frame from the car. “Who was that? It sounded official.”
“Victor.”
“What did he want?”
“An arrest.”
“Don’t we all? I vote for arresting the right person, though.”
“I know.” She pulled at her lower lip with her two top teeth as she thought. Joseph cut his eyes and swallowed hard. He clearly remembered kissing those lips and wanted to do it again. He blinked and focused back in on what she was saying. “I still think Dylan’s up to his eyeballs in this thing and knows a lot more than he’s telling.”
“Possibly. It’s just that when he protested his innocence so profusely, I believed him. I didn’t see anything that made me think he was covering up a murder.”
Catelyn rolled her eyes at him. “Trust me. Kids like that learn how to lie so convincingly they probably even believe what they’re saying. But they’re liars all the same.”
“Kids like that?” Joseph raised a brow. Why was she so cynical? He didn’t remember seeing this side of her before. Wary about a romantic relationship? Yes. A tough street cop? Yes. But where had her compassion gone? What had happened to change that part of her?
She must have read something in his face because she asked, “I sound harsh, don’t I?”
“Yeah, you do.”
She chewed her lip again. Then pulled her jacket off and rolled up her sleeve. He sucked in a deep breath. A thin five-inch jagged scar made its way from the inside of her elbow to the center of her arm just falling short of her wrist.
He reached out and pulled it toward him for a closer look. Angry, puckered and red, yet healing. “Compliments of one of those kids?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you learned your lesson, is that what you’re saying? And every kid is guilty until proven innocent?”
She flushed and yanked out of his light grasp. “Something like that.”
He let her go. “When did that happen?”
“About six months ago.”
He winced. “Ouch.”
Shutters came down over her eyes. “Yep.”
“You want to tell me about it?” She used to tell him everything. His heart hurt at the memories. He’d missed her. Her laugh, her beauty, her spunk, the way she made him feel when she let him see the pride she felt for him when he collared a criminal. The way she melted into his arms for a snuggle on the couch. Her kisses…
“Nothing much to tell. I had the kid cornered, he acted like he wasn’t going to give me any trouble, just blubbering about how he’d been set up. I believed him, let my guard down and he pulled a knife from somewhere. And before you ask, yes, I’d already patted him down. I made a stupid mistake and missed it. It was a little thing, but it hurt. So, no more trusting crying teens protesting their innocence.” Subject closed. “Let’s go see what we can find out about the DNA. I hope this isn’t a wasted trip.”
He smiled and let it drop even though he wanted to pursue the fact that just because she had one bad experience with one kid didn’t mean they were all the same. But he knew when she got that look on her face, attempting to push the subject more wouldn’t get him anywhere. So he said, “The personal touch is never wasted. A phone call might have sufficed, but when you’re face-to-face, it’s harder for them to put you off…or hang up on you.”
She gave a rare grin, one he remembered, but hadn’t seen since he’d been back. “Very true.”

Why had she bothered to explain about that scar? Catelyn decided having Joseph around could be addictive. Somehow, she was going to have to figure out how to keep her mouth shut around him. Spilling her guts about everything that bothered her was no longer an option. She’d moved on, and he’d just plain moved…
“Sandy, how are you?” Catelyn spotted the criminalist and waved her down. A pretty, petite woman in her late thirties, she was part of a team that did their job well. She’d also been one of the people covering Tracy’s murder.
The woman’s brows arched under her shaggy bangs. “Catelyn? What are you doing here?”
“Trying to solve a murder and find a missing girl. This is my partner, Joseph Santino. He’s working on the case with me.” Joseph and Sandy shook hands, then Catelyn said, “We need to know if anything’s come back on the blood found on the ring.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure. We had that murder-suicide on the other side of town and things have been a little crazier than usual around here.”
Great. “I hate to be pushy, but do you mind putting a rush on it? There’s a killer out there and a missing girl.”
Concern flickered across the woman’s face. “I heard. I know Greg was working with the ring. Come on and let’s see if he’s in the lab.”
The three marched down the hall and Catelyn couldn’t help feeling the thrill, the excitement that came with her job. Sure, she hated the deaths, the psychos out there who caused such pain and misery to others, but she knew she was right where she was supposed to be.
She was born to be a cop. A detective. Her mission in life was to put the bad guys away. She didn’t have time for romance or a family—or Joseph.
Right, God? God had been strangely quiet with the answer to that question lately and she wondered if the pang she felt in the vicinity of her heart meant she wasn’t exactly on the right track. Lord?
She looked at Joseph, his rugged profile so familiar; one she’d never tired of looking at during the time they’d dated. Pain seared her. The loss of his presence in her life left a gaping hole she realized she’d never completely filled.
It was too bad he’d never understood that part of her personality, the cop part; it grieved her that he couldn’t accept she’d never be the traditional happy homemaker he envisioned when he pictured his wife.
Unfortunately, she knew this all too well. After all, it’s what had broken them up two years ago. Joseph Santino had wanted her to stop being a cop, stay home and be his wife. A mother to his children. Part of her regretted that it wasn’t enough; she grieved the loss of his companionship, her best friend.
But there was no way she’d ever give up her career. Not even for the man she loved.
Just wasn’t going to happen.

Joseph watched Catelyn in action. She loved her job, that was obvious. He saw her disappointment when Sandy returned with no news. “But I promise to let you know as soon as it’s processed. I’ve got your cell number, and I’ll call you myself.”
Catelyn agreed and then she and Joseph were headed back out. He asked, “Where to now? Billy Franklin?”
“Yes. Esterman High School.”
He climbed behind the wheel again without asking. He knew she preferred to ride rather drive. He was falling comfortably into old routines.
As they drove through the streets, Catelyn looked out the window. He decided to touch on the past a little. “How’s your mom?”
If he’d zapped her with a Taser, he wouldn’t have gotten more response. Her head whipped around and she seared him with her gaze. “What?”
“Your mother. How is she?”
“In a nursing home. Dying.”
Oops. He hadn’t expected that one. He should have done his homework before venturing into uncharted territory. “Aw, Catie, I’m sorry.”
She looked back out the window. “You didn’t know. Did you let the school know we were coming?”
Her way of saying “Back off.” Another topic not up for discussion. But he remembered her mother and genuinely wanted to know about her. Give it time, he told himself.
“Yes, I did.” He let the subject drop.
He turned into the parking lot of the high school and she gave him a half grin. “At least you haven’t lost your sense of direction.”
For a moment he blanked, then the memory rushed forward. The day they’d gone hiking in the North Carolina woods, searching for a specific waterfall.
“This way,” he’d insisted, pointing toward a path that branched to the left.
“No Joseph, it’s this way. I have it right...
“Catie, I know exactly where I’m going. Now be quiet so I can concentrate.”
They’d wandered around for the next two hours in silence. Finally, he’d stopped and told her he was going to have to call and get directions.
She’d silently handed him her BlackBerry and suggested he follow the map she’d found online two hours ago.
At his stunned expression, she’d laughed herself silly. Humiliated, he’d sat beside her, fuming. But then her infectious giggles eventually got to him, the ability to laugh at himself making its way to the surface, and he’d found himself chuckling along with her.
They’d found the waterfall in a matter of minutes and shared the sweetest kiss he’d ever experienced.
Now, he spotted the glint in her eye. So, she still thought about their times together, too. Interesting. Heartening. Hope rose within him, but instead of making a big deal about it, he gave her a mock glare and said, “Cute.”
She laughed and exited the car, leading the way to the front door of the school.
Their mood turned serious as they entered the building. Joseph watched her shutters come back down. All cop now, she was back to business. Flashing her badge at the receptionist, she said, “Did Billy Franklin’s mother call to let you know we were coming?”
“Yes, she did.”
“Is there a room where we could speak with him privately?”
“Of course.”
They walked down a short hall to a conference room. She said, “I’ll just page Billy for you.”
She left, and Joseph paced.
A few minutes later, the door opened once again and a young man who Joseph knew to be seventeen years old, entered. He had on baggy jeans and a light sweatshirt with the school logo emblazoned across his chest. He looked scared and tired, like he hadn’t had much sleep lately.
Probably hadn’t. Not with his kid sister missing.
Following Billy was Coach Dillard. “I’m sorry,” Joseph stopped his advancement into the room, “You can’t be here.”
“Billy asked me to join him. Is it all right?”
Joseph looked at Billy then over at Catelyn. She shrugged. “If he wants him here, I guess.”
Alan sat next to Billy at the table. “I assume this is about Kelly.”
“You assume right,” Catelyn said.
Joseph turned his attention back to the boy. “Do you know if Kelly and Tracy were together at the school Tuesday night?”
Billy licked his lips, his eyes darting around the room stopping when he came to Catelyn. “She already questioned me the day Tracy died. Why do I have to answer more?”
“Because Kelly’s still missing, Billy, and we’re running out of options to help find her. So, if some of our questions seem repetitive, will you just humor us?” Catelyn frowned at Billy’s evasiveness. Joseph didn’t blame her. He eyed the kid and started to speak when the door opened.
Another man in his early sixties stepped through the door. “I’m Carlton Bowles, principal here. Do you mind if I sit in on this?”
He held out a hand and Joseph and Catelyn stood once again. Joseph said, “Have a seat.”

Catelyn decided it was time for a woman’s touch. “Billy, I know we talked right after Tracy was found and I appreciate your cooperation. The only reason Special Agent Santino and I are here is because we’re hoping you might have remembered something since I last talked to you. You’re not a suspect in any way right now. Do you think you could relax and just try to help us out?”
At her reassurance, his countenance seemed to soften. “Yes. Like I said before, I think she and Tracy were together, but I can’t say for sure. She texted me a little after 4:00 that afternoon and said she was meeting some friends.” He shrugged. “I don’t know if that included Tracy or not. She wanted me to make up an excuse to tell Mom and Dad about why she was going to be late for supper. I did.”
“And she never came home, right?”
“Right. I wasn’t too worried because she was always late, but then she wasn’t home by dark, which still wasn’t that unusual. Then around 9:00, I mean, she still wasn’t home…”
She waited to see if he was going to pick back up with his sentence. He didn’t, so she said, “I do have one question that I haven’t asked you. Do you know anything about the gang, The Skulls?”
Catelyn knew she’d hit a bull’s-eye when Billy’s face lost all color. His throat bobbed and shook his head. “No, no. I don’t know anything about them. Just what I’ve heard and it’s not good. I don’t want to be mixed up in that stuff. Uh-uh.”
He placed his hands on the table. They trembled and he shoved them back in his lap. This boy was terrified of something.
Alan lifted a hand. “Um, do you mind if I intervene here?”
Catelyn lifted a brow. “Sure.”
“Billy’s a good kid trying to stay out of trouble. A fantastic baseball player with a huge future ahead of him. That sister of his…well, no disrespect, but she seemed to be heading toward trouble. I mean, I’ve heard she was a good kid, so maybe I’m off base, but considering the kids she hung out with…” He shrugged. “From the outside looking in, I would say that if she had her way, she would have had Billy involved in that gang.”

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