Once in the car and heading back to the station, Bentz said, “Twinless twins?” He snorted and shook his head as he opened his window a crack. “You know, I think there’s a support group for just about anything you want these days.” Before Montoya could add his two cents, Bentz’s phone jangled.

He slipped it from his pocket, recognized an LA area code, and answered, “Detective Bentz.”

“Hey,” Jonas Hayes said, his voice grim. Bentz imagined his ex-partner’s face set, his features hard, the harbinger of bad news. “I wanted to give you a heads-up before you heard it somewhere else.”

“Heard what?” Bentz asked.

“About Donovan Caldwell.” A pause. “He’s dead.”

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 26

Brianna’s cell phone rang just as she and Jase were heading back to the offices of the Observer. She pulled the phone from her purse, saw that it was Milo again, and didn’t answer. Though she wanted to connect with him, she needed a little privacy to talk to the reticent member of the twinless twin group, a man who rarely shared, but sometimes called her for advice. It was weird. He did not make an appointment, didn’t want her to be his counselor, and rarely shared during the group meetings. And yet, sometimes he sought her out. Brianna wouldn’t have bothered dealing with him if he weren’t a part of the group. As it was, she felt obligated, as a twinless twin herself, to give comfort or advice or just lend an ear.

But not right this moment.

He’s called twice. Maybe he’s in trouble. You need to talk to him.

As they reached her car parked on the street, she noticed the time on the meter had expired.

She and Jase had already decided to work out of his apartment, on his computer. “What time works best for you?” she asked.

“I’ve got a few things to deal with right now. Give me a couple of hours?” His gaze delved a little deeper into hers and her stupid heart had the nerve to flutter. “Work for you?”

“Perfect.”

He gave her his address and she repeated it back to him. “You said apartment 3-C.”

“That’s it.” One side of his mouth twisted upward. “Okay, I’ll see you then.” He rapped on the roof of her car twice, then headed into the building that housed the Observer offices. She watched his tall frame disappear through the glass doors and couldn’t help but wonder about running into him again after all these years, after half a lifetime of believing that she’d never see him again. Not that she’d given it much thought since college. A high-school crush was just that, a first little palpitation of the heart that one remembered fondly but left back in school.