When she didn’t reach for the can, he placed it on the floor close enough that she could grab it, and he noticed something else about her, a kind of zombie-like expression. Shit, she was a basket case.

“Suit yourself.” He turned back to his table, carefully returning his tools, the ribbon, and the folded clothes, relegating each to its assigned spots.

Once he’d restored some order, he felt a little less tense.

He thought about Zoe, how he intended to track her down at dawn’s first light. The dog hadn’t had any luck on this side of the river, so he would canoe over to the far bank and start over again. His bloodhound was a tracker. Old Red would find Zoe if she was anywhere in the area, and he’d wager that if she was still alive, she hadn’t gotten far.

He would find her. Come the morning. That was what would happen, and he wouldn’t even consider that he might not catch her. If the day lengthened into darkness, he’d use his night goggles. She wouldn’t get away.

Hadn’t he promised Myra that he would fix things?

He couldn’t fail.

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 16

Why not trust Jase? Brianna asked herself as she showered in her bathroom.

He was a reporter, and that could work in their favor. Let him write his story, spread the word, maybe get coverage on television and radio as well, get people looking for Selma’s daughters. Why wait for the damned police to take her seriously?

Her thoughts played out as she scrubbed, washing her hair and body, rinsing off the long hours, sweat, and frustration of the day in her claw-footed tub that had been retrofitted with a shower kit.

After all, Jase Bridges had resources. What did it matter if she’d had a stupid schoolgirl crush on him half a lifetime ago? And just because as a kid he’d been only half a step out of juvie way back when didn’t mean he couldn’t be trusted now. In fact, it might help that he had some street smarts. He’d already started gathering facts on the story. She realized he might be trying to get close to her only to get a leg up on the case. And maybe he was motivated more by the lust for a story to boost his career rather than any real empathy for Selma and her daughters. So what?

And hadn’t Brianna witnessed flashes of compassion in his eyes when they’d discussed the situation? She rotated under the spray, letting the lather and warm water slide off her body. She wondered what it would be like to have Jase here in the shower with her, his hands sliding over her slick skin, his lips trailing along the length of her neck, his legs pressed against hers....