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it whenever their paths crossed.

“No doubt. I called her a few hours ago. She’s ok; it’s you I’m worried about now.” He put his hands on her shoulders. Just to touch. She looked so fragile now. “Go. Take a break. This…this will still be here in thirty minutes.”

She drooped into his arms the instant Whit stepped out of the conference room. He doubted she was even aware she was doing it.

Max just pulled her close. He needed to touch her. Even though he fully meant to keep it platonic. For now.

“Two steps forward, fifty back.”

He didn’t say anything. Just tightened his hold on her. Her head rested against his chest and he could breathe her in. “But we’ll eventually get there. We’ll find them.”

“Will we? When?” He felt her sigh against his chest. His hand slipped up and cupped the back of her head, beneath the now drooping French braid she’d woven it into that morning. She felt so fragile, whenever he got his hands on her.

“When we’re meant to.”

“I wish it was that easy.” Her arms slipped around his waist. Max wondered for a brief moment if she even realized she was holding him just as tightly as he was holding her.

Max would have said more, but someone opened the door and stepped into the conference room. Max stepped back from Jac immediately.

There was a light of amusement in the director’s brown eyes. Amusement, and understanding. Then the amusement faded and concern slipped in. Determination.

Max fought the urge to tense. Like it or not, the director’s presence—especially this late—never brought good.

72

Miranda had made Tag take her out to dinner in a small town along their route. Miranda wished she had a day or two to poke around. Maybe a week.

She had taken in all of it she could while Tag drove her around like a good chauffeur. He’d asked her if she’d never seen a small town before. Two stoplights, there were two stoplights.

She’d laughed and told him about exactly where she’d come from. And that small towns fascinated her. “I’m eventually going to write a book about all the towns I’ve visited in this job. I’ll come back here, eventually. On my downtime. I’ll probably drag Jac along with me.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Bestie. Jac stands for Jaclyn. We were in a Rowland Bowles movie together last year when I dragged her to my hometown. It was fun. She’s a bit on the serious, reserved side. It’s my job to get her out there a bit more.”

“I suspect you can make just about anything you do fun.”

He reminded her of Clint, her former boyfriend. Same serious wall of hurt around him. And that core of honor that ran so deep.

She thought about that as they drove toward home, even though it was now close to midnight.

The call came just as they were an hour and a half away from St. Louis. Miranda put Max on speaker. “Hey, hot boss number three. I’m on the road with Agent Walker Taggart. Speak to me.”

“Where exactly are you? Or rather, how close are you to Daviess County, Indiana?” Poor man sounded beyond exhausted.

“Let me check. What’s shaking? How’s Jac holding up?”

“She’s doing ok. She and Dani are taking a break now—everyone is getting ready to go over Sturvin’s family’s social media accounts. I told them to eat first. They’re finalizing the autopsy on the aunt first thing in the morning.”

“We’re two hours out from Washington, Indiana. That’s the Daviess county seat. We’ll have to double back, though.”

“Good. Turn around. You need to go to the Department of Child Services first thing in the morning. Wake them up early. I need you back here by noon.”

That was not something she’d expected. “What am I going on here?”

“Paul Sturvin’s identical twin brother’s son is in the custody of Daviess County. We need to find out his history—and why his aunt and uncle didn’t take custody of him after his great-aunt died from cancer and why they didn’t take him in six years ago as an infant. I want you to get the file. Persist, if you have to. We need to find out what we can about Sturvin’s family. See if we can find where he might go. Or to who.”

“Gotcha. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“I’m sending you a list of questions as well as two additional addresses we need someone to put eyes on. Sturvin could be there. Be careful out there.”

“You, too. And keep an eye on our little buddy for me. I know this one is hurting her.”

“Always. I’ll take care of her.”

After he disconnected Miranda just shook her head. “I know you will, Max. But does she?”

“Excuse me?” Taggart asked. “You realize he hung up, right?”

“It’s complicated. He’s a good friend. In love with Jac. But the two of them are taking the long way around to figuring that out. She…Paul Sturvin’s wife was a friend of hers. Jac knows his daughters. And she’s terrified for them. I just hope we find them soon. Because I think Jac’s struggling more than she’ll ever let on.”

And that had Miranda worried to her very toes.

There was only so much someone could take, after all.

73

Eugene Lytel was good on his word, but the man was an arrogant asshole. High on a power trip.

Paul studied him, there in the Walmart parking lot at nearly two a.m. Lytel hadn’t wanted to meet with him, but Paul had persisted. Had threatened to call Max Jones himself and tell him all about the contacts Paul had made within PAVAD. That had been all that had managed to get Lytel there. Paul wasn’t stupid after all. “Are they looking for me?”

“Of course they are, you dumbass. You killed your wife and dragged the damned CCU right into the middle of your personal business. You were told to just watch Colonel Jones’s daughters. That was it. What in the hell happened? You were told to do a damned job. Get us the information we wanted. Then you’d get

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