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holes, I think,” she croaked. “Two of them. In the chest. And...” Her tight throat wouldn’t allow any more words to pass.

      “And?” Dylan and Bryce nearly shouted the words as one voice.

      “And,” she said, “the front is soaked in blood. It’s dry, but it’s blood.”

       TWO

      Bryce turned the flashlight on the shirt. Outside, doors slammed and footsteps headed their way. Two holes, just as she’d said, with brown blood staining the front. Frank’s shirt. “I saw him yesterday,” Bryce said. “And I talked to him on the phone this morning.” The conversation that led him to where he was now.

      “Maybe he loaned the shirt to someone,” she said.

      “Maybe.”

      “Or maybe he donated it to the church fundraiser.” Bryce arched a brow at her and she rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, probably not.”

      He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Frank’s number, muscles tense, waiting, praying for his friend to pick up.

      Voice mail.

      “Hey buddy, give me a call when you get this. We need to talk.” He hung up.

      Jade was rubbing her head and staring at the jersey. “I’ll call Heather.”

      “Yeah,” Bryce said. “He may have gone over to her place and fallen asleep on the couch or something.” He didn’t think so, though.

      Jade’s frown said she wasn’t buying that explanation, either. She dialed Frank’s girlfriend’s number, listened, then hung up. “Voice mail. She’s probably asleep with her phone turned off. We have an early shift in the morning,” she said of her fellow officer. “So, we’ve got a bloodstained shirt with two bullet holes.” Dylan nodded and Jade shrugged. “Where’s the body?” she asked. She’d voiced the question he’d been wondering since she’d pulled the shirt out of the dirt. “We need to search this place from top to bottom,” Jade said.

      “Officers are outside,” Dylan said. “I’ll get them on it right away.”

      Dylan left and within minutes returned with a handful of officers who started searching.

      Bryce led Jade out to the ambulance and motioned for the two paramedics to take her. Once she was settled in the back, he tried Frank’s number once more.

      Again, he got voice mail. “I’m going to his house,” he said, hanging up.

      “I’d like to go, too,” Jade said, “if you don’t mind. If he’s not there, we need to go find Heather and fill her in on everything.” She flinched when the paramedic who’d introduced himself as Geoff Jones touched the side of her head.

      “What’d he hit you with?” Geoff asked.

      “Nothing,” she said. “He pushed me into one of the spindles.”

      Geoff lifted a brow. “Those things have to be rusty. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?”

      “Yes. It’s updated.”

      “Good. Then just keep it clean and it should heal nicely. Let me check your eyes one more time.” He shone the light in each, and she blinked when he was finished. “No concussion.”

      “I appreciate you checking me out, but I’m fine. Shook up and mad that I let the guy get away, but physically, I’m relatively unhurt.”

      “Then let’s go find Frank.” Bryce held a hand out. She blinked, her hesitation lasting only a fraction of a second before she settled her palm against his. He jerked. “Your hands are freezing!”

      “I think my adrenaline is crashing,” she said. She glanced at the Geoff. “I’m fine to drive, right?”

      He shrugged. “Sure. I don’t see why not. As long as you feel like it.”

      “Great.”

      “Come on,” Bryce said, still holding her hands, “let’s get you into your squad car so you can warm up.” He moved back, and his leg ached with that now familiar throb that indicated he’d overdone it today. Squashing the anger that was never very far from the surface, he focused on Jade and helped her get settled in the driver’s seat. “You’re sure you’re okay to drive?”

      “Why? Are you scared to ride with me?”

      He huffed. “No.” Bryce rounded the front of the car and slid into the passenger seat. His leg thanked him.

      Dylan stepped up beside Jade’s window, and she lowered it, scattering the soft flakes already sticking to everything. “I imagine the chief is going to tell you to sit tomorrow out,” he told her.

      “Probably. And if I need to, I will. Right now, I’m...” She sighed. “I refuse to say ‘fine’ one more time.”

      Dylan shot her a tight smile. “All right. I’m going to stay here until these guys are done, then write up my report.” He glanced at the sky. “If I don’t get snowed in.”

      “I’ll do the same at some point.”

      “Let me know if you find Frank.”

      “Will do.”

      She rolled up her window, and Bryce shook his head. “You’re one tough lady, aren’t you?”

      Jade jerked to look at him. “Me? Tough?” A laugh escaped her. “I don’t know about tough. I just do what I need to do.”

      “Definitely tough. You always were.”

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      Jade wanted to ask what he meant by that, but her heart was thumping so loudly, she wouldn’t be surprised if Bryce could hear it.

      Did he know?

      No. There was no way he possibly could. She’d planned to tell him, of course, but time had passed, and her secret had become hers and hers alone—albeit an unintentional secret. Her parents didn’t even know everything. “What are you doing back here in Cedar Canyon?” She put the vehicle into Drive and pulled away from the scene. It would take her a short five minutes to get to Frank’s place. She doubted Bryce could tell her everything in that amount of time.

      But he could start.

      “It’s been six years since you disappeared,” she said. “Six years, Bryce, and no word. Nothing.” A surge of anger swept through her and she did her best to choke it back—only because she wanted to hear what he had to say for himself.

      He flicked a glance in her direction. “I know how long it’s been.”

      “And it didn’t occur to you that people would want to hear from you? That people might have things they’d like to...ah...share with you?”

      He shook his head and sighed. “It did, but I—”

      “You even ignored Kristy. Your own sister. She was devastated. Do you know she confessed to me that she even thought you were dead at one point until Frank told her he’d spoken to you on a regular basis?”

      “It’s not like I chose that path!” The words snapped from him quick as a whip.

      She flinched. “Oh really? So, who chose it for you?”

      “Whoever planted that IED in the middle of the road and blew up my Humvee. That’s who.” He slapped a hand against the dash and drew in a deep breath.

      “Oh.” She fell silent, waiting for him to continue, afraid he would and equally afraid he wouldn’t.

      “Yeah,” he

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