LITMIR.BIZ

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took planning, Jack.” Far longer than Allie liked to consider. The idea that Hope was the one who suggested the campout niggled at the back of her mind.

      “You’re still convinced this is connected to Chloe’s case.”

      “You saw the flowers.” Allie had yet to erase the image out of her mind. “If it isn’t connected, why leave it at all? Hope and Chloe could be twins. The red hair, the quirky personality, the friends.” Allie felt her breath catch. Only now did she realize how being around Hope eased some of the pain she’d carried most of her life. And now? She scrubbed her hands down her arms. Now it was as if she was stuck in a horrific rerun of the worst episode of her childhood. “I know I’m supposed to try to keep an emotional distance, but I don’t think that’s possible. We’re all out on the ledge on this one, Jack. I’m not entirely sure what to do.” And that was her greatest fear: that she’d do something wrong and cost a young girl her life.

      “You’ll do what you always do. You’ll keep us from falling.” Jack squeezed her arm. “You’ve got a good support system with Eden and Simone. Speaking of which, Cole called Eden and filled her in. She’s driving back from Portland. She should be in Sacramento by tonight.”

      “More like this afternoon given the way she drives. I should call Simone,” Allie murmured. “I’ve been trying to get up the nerve to break her cone of happiness.”

      “I’d say break away, but then I’d be the one emotionally invested.” It was Jack’s turn to offer a thin smile.

      Allie inclined her head. Jack’s ego had taken a healthy bashing a few weeks ago when Simone reunited with her ex-husband, something none of them saw coming, least of all Jack, Simone’s on-again, off-again Friday-night date. That Jack rolled with the punches and, in some odd way, had become friends with said ex, Vince Sutton, proved just how nice a guy the detective was. “You need to stop looking so hard, Jack. Your someone is out there. She’ll pop up when you least expect it.” Or, as was the case for Eden and Simone, when it was incredibly inconvenient.

      “Yeah, don’t know about that. I’m running out of options.” He came over and sat on the window seat beside her. He turned that charming, eye-twinkling grin on her. “Unless you’re open to—”

      “You really don’t need me to remind you that you’re like my big brother, right?” Allie said, appreciating the lighthearted banter.

      “Ugh.” He fell against the wall and clutched his heart as if she’d shot him. “And here I was finally recovering from Simone’s ‘you’re a great guy’ and ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech. I guess taking you for a weekend ride in my new car is out of the question.”

      Allie chuckled.

      “I don’t mean to interrupt.” Max Kellan’s shotgun voice made Allie jump, her face flushing for no reason other than he’d caught her being hit on, however ineffectively. “Your fellow detectives were able to track my brother down. Joe took an early flight and should land at Sac Metro in the next fifteen minutes. They have officers waiting at the gate to bring him home.” His amber-specked brown eyes shot disapproval, first in Jack’s direction, then in hers. “As you were.”

      “Now, hang on—” Jack got slowly to his feet. Allie grabbed hold of his arm and shook her head.

      “He needs to be angry at something,” she murmured. “It gives him focus.” On something other than fear.

      “Then let it be me. You don’t deserve it.”

      Didn’t she?

      “Max, I could use your help going through some of Hope’s belongings.” Allie leaned around Jack. “Are you up for that?” She didn’t really need his help, but he needed a distraction and she needed to know more about this man who could prove vital when it came to finding Hope.

      “You serious?” Jack’s brow furrowed.

      “Go back downstairs. Check in with Cole. And see if you can track down Simone and Vince. I’m guessing we might need their input on this.”

      “More detectives?” Max asked.

      “More help,” Allie explained and hoped it would suffice.

      “While you’re at it, see where we are with tracking down my sister-in-law,” Max added. With his arms folded across his torso, he resembled one of those Roman statues declaring battle, this time with the well-meaning detective.

      “I’ll check.” Jack glared at Max. “Ease up, hose monkey. Allie’s one of the best assets you’ve got in this.”

      “Hose monkey?” Allie asked Max once Jack was gone.

      “One of the nicer things cops call firefighters.” It wasn’t until Max looked at her that she saw the reluctant respect glistening in his eyes. “What is it you’re hoping to find in here?”

      Just like Allie, Max didn’t seem in a rush to step into Hope’s room; he’d probably feel more comfortable if the room was on fire. “You know her better than anyone. Is there anything that seems off to you? Things that aren’t familiar?”

      Maybe little gifts she’d been sent like the mementos Allie, Eden and Simone had received over the past few months. Notes. Pictures. Flowers. Every one of them a stark reminder of when they’d lost Chloe and that her killer hadn’t been forgotten.

      Or that he hadn’t forgotten them.

      “Hope’s a pretty open kid.” Max finally moved inside and peered behind the door at the filled-to-the-brim bookshelf. “She’s a terrible secret keeper. I don’t like the idea of snooping through her stuff.”

      “If it helps us get a handle on exactly what’s going on, I doubt she’d mind.”

      “What about her laptop?” Max gestured to his niece’s desk.

      “Tammy, the head lab tech, will go over that. Hope doesn’t maintain any social media presence that I know of.”

      “Yeah, Joe doesn’t allow it. One of the benefits of being in on the expansion of the internet. He keeps it as far away from Hope as possible.” He ran his fingers along the spines of her books. “I suppose you think that’s too restrictive, too controlling.” He glanced at her, the accusation clear on his face.

      “I can see both sides of that argument, but, as I don’t have children, it’s not necessarily my place to say.” Except in the confines of her office.

      “Of course not,” Max sneered. “Fixing the messes people make of their kids keeps you employed.”

      Allie’s chest tightened. “Forgive me for dropping all the psychology on you, but that’s what we in the business call projecting. And Hope isn’t a mess.”

      “No, but her parents are.”

      Allie couldn’t argue that point. Joe Kellan, Hope’s father, avoided conflict at all costs, especially when it came to his wife. Whereas Gemma Kellan knew precisely what buttons to push to get what she wanted. The two were a seriously toxic combination and it adversely affected their only child.

      Allie prided herself on being able to read people. It was, after all, a big part of her job. She could walk into a situation and assess the people involved from the start; give her a file and some background and she could, if necessary, get exactly what she needed from them, either child or adult. At the very least she could find a clue as to how to help.

      But Max Kellan? Oh, boy. Allie brushed her fingers against the space just over her heart. For whatever reason, she couldn’t get a good read on him, and Allie didn’t do well in uncharted territory. The only thing she could be certain of was that he cared about Hope and he’d do whatever it took to bring his niece home.

      And that might just be the most attractive thing about him.

      As much as she hated keeping a family member in the dark, openly connecting Hope’s disappearance to

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