“This morning? Did you sleep at all last night?”
Aaron’s newfound energy worked my last nerve—no doubt a side effect from Bryson’s healing. “No, and I feel great. Come on. Get dressed. Let’s nail this guy.” He stood and paced beside the bed.
“Fine, I’m up. Do I have time for a shower?” I frowned at the annoyed look in his eyes.
“Yes, but hurry.”
I climbed out of bed for the second time and walked into the kitchen to make coffee.
“I’ll make breakfast, you shower. Unless you want me to join you?” Aaron motioned toward the bathroom.
“Join me? No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“We have work to do.” I went into the bathroom and closed the door. I needed to set Aaron straight about us, but he had more of Bryson inside him than I wanted to deal with. How long would the aftereffects of sharing his spirit last?
I showered and dressed, only to find Aaron pacing a path on my carpet. “How much coffee have you had? You’re seriously high-strung.”
“This is my first cup. Ready?” He snatched the case file from the counter.
“Where’s breakfast?”
Aaron grinned. “I got distracted. We can get something on the way. Shall we?”
I longed for food, unable to remember the last time I’d eaten. I settled for a thermos of coffee and the promise of a drive-through. “Sure, let’s go.”
I had to hustle to keep up with Aaron’s quick pace. Once inside the car, I buckled up and held on for dear life as Aaron drove toward the victim’s house. His driving was almost as erratic as his speech. “Aaron, slow down. You’re going to get a ticket.”
He looked at me and laughed. “I can talk my way out of it.”
“Right, cop perk.” I relaxed when the car slowed to a respectable speed. “What am I supposed to ask Mrs. Rivera? If I can even reach her. There’s no guarantee this will work, you know.”
“Ask her about the killer. Ask her if she knows where the children are now. Maybe she can help us find them?” Aaron drummed on the steering wheel, waiting for a red light to change to green.
“Are you cleared to return to work?” The thought popped into my mind and out of my mouth.
“Not officially.” Aaron smirked and turned left into the neighborhood.
I wrapped my arms around myself and sank into my thoughts. The last time I’d come face-to-face with the ghost of Mrs. Rivera, it hadn’t gone well. What if the woman refused to talk to me? I didn’t want to see disappointment in Aaron’s eyes, not when I’d nearly cost him his life.
The car came to a stop, jarring me from my troubles. Before I could unbuckle my seat belt, Aaron pulled me toward him and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss surprised me, not because he did it, but how different it felt from our others. Aaron seemed to claim me, starting with my lips.
I released the seatbelt, and he pulled me across the console. He tangled his fingers in my hair as his lips crushed mine. The extra energy from Bryson’s healing, poured through him and into me. I could almost taste Bryson on Aaron’s lips. “Whoa, no, stop.”
Aaron pulled back, grinned, and dove in again. I made a protesting sound and scrambled away from him.
“Sorry about that.”
I fell back into my seat, breathless and more than a little confused.
Aaron hopped out of the car and walked to the front door without as much as a look back.
“What the hell?” My fingers brushed my swollen lips. I stood and slammed the door. Aaron had been through a lot, but it didn’t excuse his rude behavior. I steeled my resolve to keep my distance. I stormed through the open front door. “Hello?”
“Over here.” Aaron leaned against the kitchen counter with his ankles crossed and arms folded. His grin looked more like his and less like Bryson’s.
“What was that about?”
“I was taking your mind off your nerves.” He pushed back from the counter.
I threw my hands up with a frustrated grunt and went into the living room. He may have stilled my nerves, but my head had left the game. He’d played me, and it ticked me off.
Aaron asked, “Ready to get started?”
“Not yet. Aaron, you have to back off. I need time to figure things out.”
“That’s bullshit. I saw it in your eyes when you looked at Bryson. You’ve made your choice.”
“Then why did you shove your tongue down my throat outside?”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
“Try.”
“I am trying.” He looked me over as if imagining me naked.
“Try harder.”
He looked away and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so aggressive. Are we good?”
“Yep, we’re fine.” I drew a cleansing breath and exhaled my frustration. I took my time, wandering around the room and clearing my head of Aaron’s behavior.
Even though I’d been here before, I’d never get used to searching the home of a murder victim, hoping to run into a ghost. “Mrs. Rivera? Are you here? I need you to help me find your children.”
I walked through the small formal dining room and into the kitchen, ignoring Aaron as I passed. I trailed my fingers over the windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of previous activity in their reflections. When no visions came, I moved upstairs into the nursery. My chest hurt as I ran my fingertips over the butter-yellow and soft-blue crib blanket. I caught movement in the corner of my eye and turned to see Aaron watching me.
“I can’t find her.” I wanted to give up and go home, but I could lose a little sleep if it meant saving the lives of two children. “What is her first name?”
“Amalia.” Aaron’s gaze lingered on the large teddy bear sitting in the rocker. “Her name was Amalia.”
“Amalia? Can you hear me?” I called into the powdery-sweet room. “We need your help to find your babies.”
“Only my grandmother calls me Amalia.” The words came as whispers at first, increasing in volume with each anger-laced syllable.
I resisted the urge to protect my face as I searched for the source of the words. “Mrs. Rivera, my name is Tessa, and this is Detective Burns. We need your help to find the kids. Do you know where they are?”
“He took them,” the spirit shouted.
Amalia Rivera sat in the rocking chair, superimposed over the white bear. She rocked the chair, staring at me.
“Who took them?”
“He took them.” Her voice grew thin and shrill. “He took my children.”
I lowered my voice and slowed my speech—an old therapist trick to calm a patient. “His house is empty. Do you know where else he would have taken them?”
“His mother’s house. He told her they are his. She thinks they’re her grandchildren.” Amalia stared at the empty crib. “He’s crazy. I didn’t know. I thought I loved him.”
“Sometimes people hide what they are from the world. Don’t blame yourself for this.” I wished I could reach out and hold her hand.
“I was unfaithful—”
“That doesn’t mean you deserved to be hurt. Your actions don’t excuse him from kidnapping your children.” I inched closer and knelt at Amalia’s feet. I couldn’t touch her physically, but I needed to reach her emotionally. “Mrs. Rivera, we won’t rest until we find your kids. I promise.”
“Amy. Please call me Amy.” The spirit’s face softened enough for me to see behind the mask of grief, into the eyes of a beautiful young woman. A woman who was far too young to die.
Aaron stood behind me, awestruck.
I asked, “Any more questions, Detective?”
“Names, addresses. I can’t hear her.” Aaron’s eyes never left the rocking chair.
“Miriam Warner, she lives in Mascotte, behind the elementary school.” Amy faded from view.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Is she gone?” Aaron took a step toward the rocker.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
Aaron walked outside and called Samuels to relay the new information. I stepped aside and dialed Bryson. The police would find the kids. Aaron and I couldn’t be directly involved. A civilian, and a cop not medically cleared to return to duty, would hardly be welcome in the middle of a SWAT team, especially a team from another county. However, if I could convince Bryson to tag along, we might be able to provide an aerial view.
“Bryson, we think we know where the missing kids are. We need your help.”
“Where are you?” The suspicious tone in his voice cut deep.
“At the Rivera house. I spoke with Mrs. Rivera again. Aaron and I are going to need your help. Can you meet us at the police station?”
Aaron started the car and beeped the horn. I jumped at the sound, turned, and hurried to the car. “Bryson?”
“Stay out of it, Tessa. This is beyond dangerous, going after a killer again.” He sighed into the phone. “Let the police handle it.”
“Bryson, what if he gets away? We can help in other ways. Please meet us at the station.” The connection went silent. “I need you.”
“See you there. Don’t do anything stupid until I get there.” Bryson disconnected.
I tucked my phone in my pocket. “He’s on the way.”
Aaron put the car in park and stared at me. “Are you two still arguing?”
“We aren’t arguing, but it’s tense.”
“Why?”
I shrugged, not wanting to get into it.
“You have feelings for him.”
“I do, but you knew that.”
Aaron smiled and pulled onto the street. “I did, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Should I apologize?”
Aaron chuckled. “No. Don’t apologize for the way you feel.”
I turned to the window. “What’s the plan?”
“I aim to make you forget about Bryson and ride off into the sunset with me.”
“Aaron . . .” I rested my head on the window and closed my eyes.
“I know. I know. So here’s the plan. We go into the station together, and I’ll get the address from Samuels. Our team will be assisting on this one since it’s across jurisdictions. No one needs to know we’re going to follow. Keep close to me and keep quiet.”
“Sir, yes, sir.” I smirked, imagining him giving Bryson orders. This had “bad idea” written all over it.
Local news vans and reporters mobbed the police station. Aaron failed to mention the press conference regarding the case. The brass had arranged it before the latest developments, and no one thought to cancel it.
Aaron led me to a rear entrance and ushered me into the building as discreetly as possible. Once inside, he brought me into the lobby. “What’s going on?”
He gave me a firm look. “Wait here and stay quiet.”
“Okay.” I watched the crowd on the sidewalk outside, and called Bryson. “Hi. Listen. There are a ton of reporters outside. I’m waiting for you in the lobby.”
“Great.” Bryson sounded irritated again. “Why are you whispering?”
“In case someone is listening.”
“Didn’t Mae teach you if you’re doing something you have to whisper about, you ought not to be doing it?” Bryson chuckled. “Be there in a few.”
While he may have had a point, he didn’t need to rub my nose in it. Bryson and Aaron needed to stop treating me like a child. I sat and folded my arms. I realized I was pouting and unfolded my arms—damn them both.
Minutes passed by, and the camera crews and reporters multiplied. Several female heads turned as Bryson walked through the glass doors. One blonde reporter had to visibly shake herself to regain her composure. The woman practically drooled after him, leaving me with a strong sense of jealousy.
Bryson narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Nothing. Thanks for coming.”
“You didn’t give me much of a choice.” He took my hand. “What’s wrong? Why are you so upset?”
“You didn’t see those women out there falling all over themselves when you came in?”
Bryson glanced out the window and shrugged. “No, not really. I was in a hurry to get inside—to you.”
My irritation melted enough to manage a lopsided smile.
Bryson kissed the back of my hand. “I take it you didn’t file the police report?”
“Oh, crap. No, I totally forgot.”
“I’ll go with you after we do whatever it is we’re going to do in Mascotte.”
“We’re going to provide air support for the rescue,” I whispered.
“That’s risky—changing in broad daylight, especially with cops nearby. Oh, wait, you know all about that.” He dropped my hand.
“Ha-ha. We need two cars. I’ll tell Aaron we’re going on to Ocala, which isn’t really a lie,” I added.
“Either way, he’s going to notice we disappeared, and likely will find our clothes.”
“Whatever. We’ll think of something, even if we have to take his memory.” The number of reporters outside had thinned. The press conference must be starting soon. “Speaking of Aaron, how long is he going to act like you?”
Bryson furrowed his brows. “Act like me?”
“He’s been acting strange since last night. Bossy and smug.”
“Are you calling me bossy and smug?” He laughed. “Bit hypocritical, no?”
“I’m serious. He’s not acting like himself.”
“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do, Tessa.” Bryson leaned close, until his nose was an inch from mine.
“She knows me just fine.” Aaron came back and interrupted the almost kiss, his grin broadening.
I stood, flustered. “Are we ready? Do you have the address?”
“Yeah.” Aaron looked past me to the sidewalk. “Let’s go out the side door.”
“Good plan. Tessa and I are going to follow you to Mascotte. I’ll take her to Ocala to make her statement afterward. Seems she forgot.” Bryson slid his arm over my shoulder.
“We have things to discuss on the way up. She rides with me now. You can take her to Ocala.” Aaron offered his hand.
“Why don’t you two go in Aaron’s car and I’ll follow in Bryson’s?” I stepped out of Bryson’s embrace.
“Ride with him. I’ll be right behind you.” Bryson grinned at Aaron, though he spoke to me.
Aaron was all smiles as we stepped out the side door. Several camera flashes stole my vision. Between our hurry to get on the road and the pissing match over whom I would accompany to Mascotte, we hadn’t realized they’d moved the press conference to the side parking lot.
The police commissioner and Detective Samuels shared a small podium, surrounded by a couple of detectives in plain clothes and a handful of uniformed officers. Samuels motioned for Aaron to join them at the podium. The reporters turned to us.