“Don’t you think this is a matter for the police?” he asked.

“You are the police.”

“I work in the crime lab.”

“And you have access to all records.”

He leaned forward, elbows propped on the table. “There is a little matter of jurisdiction, Kristi, not to mention protocol and the fact that no one but you and maybe a few hungry rogue reporters think a crime has been committed.”

“So what if we’re wrong? At least we tried. Right now, we’re just sitting around not doing anything because no one else gave a damn about these girls.”

“There’s no ‘we.’ This is your idea.”

But he still hadn’t said no or argued that he wouldn’t help her. He took a long swallow from his beer and stared at her. The wheels were turning in his mind; she could almost see them. And the one thing that she’d admired but had also disliked about Jay was that he was a bona fide do-gooder. A regular Dudley Do-Right when it came to matters of the law.

“Doesn’t matter whose idea it is, we need to check it out,” she insisted.

“Maybe you should contact the local police.”

“I’ve tried. Gotten nowhere.”

“That should tell you something.”

“Just that no one gives a damn!” She half rose from her chair. She was reminded just how maddening Jay could be.

“If the locals aren’t interested, you could consider talking to your dad,” he suggested.

“I considered it and threw the idea in file thirteen. He’s already freaked about me being up here. He knows about the missing girls and he’s damned sure I’ll be the next.”

“He could be right, what with you poking around and all.”

“Only if there is a psycho on the loose. If not, I’m in no danger. If so, then we’ve got to do something.”

“By making yourself a damned target?”

“If need be.”

“For Christ’s sake, Kristi, didn’t you learn your lesson the last time, or the time before that?” he demanded, his lips thinning in frustration. When she didn’t answer, he snorted and said, “Apparently not.”

“So are you gonna help me or am I gonna have to go this alone?”

“You’re not going to guilt me into this.” He cocked that damned broken eyebrow and drained his glass.

“How’d that happen anyway?” she asked, motioning to the little scar.

“I pissed a woman off.”

“Really pissed her off. And she beat you up?”

“Hurled a ring at me.”

So that’s what had happened to the engagement she’d heard about. “At least she was passionate.”

“Maybe a little too passionate.”

“Didn’t think that was possible.”