Page 119 of Hard to Hold
“This is Sheriff Rhys Trevino. I’m returnin’ your call.”
“Thank you for calling me back, Sheriff. I’ve been working a cold case, and I came across some information I thought you could help clarify.”
I didn’t respond.
“Anyway,” she continued, “let me start by saying that this case is not official.”
“Not official?”
“An actual missing person’s report hasn’t been filed; however, there is a case file,” she clarified. “It’s regarding a Jane Doe, who… You know what? Would it be possible to meet with you in person to discuss this? It’s … well, it’s something I’d rather not talk about over the phone.”
Inviting the detective to Embers Ridge could pose a problem. Then again, she had contacted me, which meant she knew exactly where to find me if she chose to. Odds of her finding whatever it was she was looking for were about fifty-fifty, regardless of whether I brought her to town or she came on her own.
“Tomorrow mornin’,” I suggested. “At my office.”
“What about Sunday? Say, nine o’clock. That’s the only time I’m off for the next week.”
“All right. Sunday mornin’. Nine a.m.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. I think this is information you’d be interested in having.”
I would agree, even though I couldn’t guarantee her unofficial case involved the Jane Doe from a year ago—a.k.a. Amy Smith—but I had a feeling that it did.
“See you Sunday morning at nine,” she concluded, then disconnected the call.
I hung up the phone and stared down at it. Although the woman hadn’t mentioned anything about Amy, I had a strong suspicion that her past had just caught up with her.
By the time I was off shift, I was exhausted. Rather than go over to Reagan’s and get shit from the local hotheads, I opted to go home. I hadn’t spent a whole lot of time there lately, and it seemed like a good night to sit back and relax by myself.
I hadn’t been in the front door three minutes when my cell phone rang.
“What’s up, Sheriff?” Wolfe questioned, his tone steely.
“Nada. Just got home.”
A heavy pause hung between us for a second, and I started to wonder if Wolfe had expected me to simply spend all my time at his place. As much as I enjoyed the time I'd spent with Wolfe and Amy, I still needed time to myself. Plus, I had a million things on my mind. The least of which was not the fact that I had a meeting with a Houston detective on Sunday morning, and sure as shit, if I had to face Wolfe, I would give myself away. Until I knew exactly what it was about, I didn’t want to share the news with anyone.
“Okay then. I’ll let you go.”
“Wait,” I blurted. “What’s up?”
“Nothin’. Just thought you’d stop by the bar on your way home. That’s all.”
“Sorry. Got a lot of shit on my mind right now.”
“No worries. I’m gonna take Amy home tonight. She said she really wants to sleep in her own bed.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I understood Amy’s need to go home. She’d spent a significant amount of time with both of us, and things had been steadily intensifying between us from the get-go. The woman was probably in need of some alone time, too.
“Is Reagan gonna be there?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“Tell ’em to call if they need anything.”
“Sure. Later.”
The call disconnected abruptly and I leaned against the counter with a heavy sigh. It was evident Wolfe did not like it when things didn’t go as he’d planned. Not that I was privy to the man’s plan. We’d taken things one minute at a time for the past couple of weeks, and truthfully, I was having difficulty trying to figure out what I should do next. This thing between us—as hot as it might be—was moving a little fast.
