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mind?

      Impatient with her oversight—names should have been exchanged immediately—rather than put her hand into his, she wrapped her fingers around his hand, automatically assuming the dominant position. “Olivia Blayne.”

      “Olivia?” he echoed. She couldn’t tell if the sheriff was amused or charmed. “Now there’s a name you don’t hear every day.” Amused, she decided, he definitely sounded amused. Why? “What do they call you?” he asked.

      Undoubtedly he was waiting for her to render up a nickname, something along the lines of “Livy,” or maybe “Livia.” He couldn’t possibly be thinking of “Olive,” she thought in horror. That name conjured up the image of a certain tall, skinny cartoon character from her childhood days.

      There’d been a boy in the neighborhood, an older boy—nine to her seven—Sloan something-or-other, who’d teased her mercilessly. He’d called her Olive because she had been that skinny back then. The nickname had turned into the driving force that motivated her to not only put some meat on her bones, but to get fit as well. She’d been relentless about the latter in her teens.

      “Olivia,” she informed him tersely. Only Tina got to call her something else. Tina called her Livy, but right now, Olivia didn’t know if she was up to hearing that name.

      Many thoughts crowded her head. She was far too worried that something had happened to her sister. She was absolutely certain that Tina would have never just left Bobby like that. Not unless she wasn’t around to prevent it.

      Don’t go there!

      If it turned out, mercifully, that Tina was all right, she was going to kill her sister with her bare hands for putting her through this, Olivia thought angrily.

      She took a deep breath, forcing the dark thoughts into the background. Instead, she focused on the infant sleeping on her shoulder. Focused on how good, how soothing that felt, to know that he was safe and that he was here, with her. It allowed her to pretend, just for the moment, that everything would be all right. That Tina was all right.

      “Where are you from?” Rick asked.

      “Dallas,” she told him. A look she couldn’t read came into his eyes. “We’re both from Dallas.”

      That was over four hundred miles away. She was a long way from home. “How did you happen to track them to Forever?”

      “Luck,” she replied. Because she could feel his eyes on her, waiting, she elaborated. “Tina called a friend of hers, Rachel. She told Rachel that she thought she’d made a mistake, but it was too late to change things. Rachel knew I was looking for Tina so she kept Tina on as long as she could. I have a…” Olivia hesitated for a moment, looking for the right word, then settled on “friend at the cell phone’s service center.”

      There was no need to say that Warner had also been someone she’d once cared about until things got too serious, spooking her. For now, maybe forever, she was committed to her career and her sister—and Bobby—and that was more than enough.

      “He managed to get the location of Tina’s last call to Rachel triangulated. I used the coordinates and came here instead of Nuevo Laredo,” she said, mentioning another small town in the area. And then an idea occurred to her as she said the name. “Maybe that’s where they went,” she said hopefully.

      “Easy enough to check out,” he told her. “You have a picture of your sister?”

      Olivia smiled in response. It was a confident smile, the kind that lit up a room, and a man if he happened to be in the path of it, Rick speculated.

      Shifting slowly so that she didn’t wake the baby, she told Rick, “I can do better than that.” Yes, he thought, I’m sure you can.

      The next second, he upbraided himself for his lack of focus.

      She put her hand into her purse, rifling around, searching for the copy of the picture she’d almost forgotten to bring with her. She’d had to double back to the condo in order to pick it up. Finally locating the object of her search, she pulled it out and held it up for him to see.

      “It’s a picture of my sister with the slime.”

      Rick bit the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing. He had a feeling that Olivia Blayne would interpret it as laughing at her and wouldn’t appreciate it.

      Chapter Three

      Rick studied the photograph he’d been handed.

      “Not bad looking, as far as slime goes,” he commented.

      The woman in the photograph looked more like a girl, really, and clearly resembled her older sister. They had the same golden-color hair, like a spring sunrise in the desert. The same bone structure as well, but while on the girl, it appeared almost too delicate, on the woman in the diner, it seemed far more classic and refined. He could see her moving with ease through influential circles in high society.

      Indicating the photograph, he looked back at Olivia. “Mind if I hang on to this for a bit? I’d like to send it out with the APB.” Realizing that he was guilty of just tossing around initials that she might not be familiar with, he began to explain, “That’s an—”

      “All points bulletin,” she concluded for him. “Yes I know. You don’t have to stop to break things down to their lowest level for me, Sheriff. I am familiar with some of the terms used in law enforcement.” And then, because she needed something to hang on to, something to reassure her, despite her facade of confidence and bravado, that Tina was all right, she asked, “Did you happen to see my sister when she was in town?”

      Rick took another glance at the photograph. Though he sensed she wanted to ask him questions about her sister, about her condition and how she’d seemed to him, he’d seen neither of the two individuals she attempted to locate.

      He shook his head. “Sorry, I didn’t.”

      Miss Joan ceased overcleaning the counter and spoke up. “I did.”

      Olivia instantly gravitated toward the owner of the diner. “How did she look? Was she all right?” Though Olivia had never seen any firsthand evidence of it, she strongly suspected that Don had a temper. Without a hovering older sister, he’d be free to treat Tina any way that he wanted to.

      The very thought brought a numbing chill down her spine.

      An intuitive look came into Miss Joan’s kind hazel eyes. “I didn’t see any bruises, if that’s what you’re asking,” the older woman told her. “But your sister did look like she could do with a decent meal and about a day’s sleep. I felt sorry for her, but there wasn’t anything anyone could do.” There was more than a trace of regret in Miss Joan’s voice. “The guy she was with kept her on a real short leash. And he didn’t seem too happy about this little fella fussing and crying,” she added, nodding toward Bobby. “In my opinion, someone needs to take that boy behind the barn for a good whopping.”

      Rick could see the woman beside him growing progressively tenser. Olivia’s hands fisted, even as they held the sleeping baby against her, and her expression hardened.

      “Shooting him would be better,” Olivia murmured with feeling.

      He had a feeling she meant it. The woman certainly wasn’t the squeamish type, he thought. The sooner he tracked down the missing pair and sent them all on their way, the better.

      Sliding off the stool, he saw the question in her eyes. “I’m going to go post that APB, see if anyone’s seen your sister and her boyfriend. You wouldn’t happen to know the kind of car they were driving, would you?”

      Not only did she know the kind of car they were driving, she rattled off the make, the model, the color and the license plate for him in a single breath, right down to the long scratch on the driver’s side bumper.

      “You’ve got a good eye,” Rick commented, impressed. In his experience, women who looked like Olivia Blayne didn’t

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