The Vanishing. Jana DeLeon
needed Colette’s help now more than ever before.
MAX DUHON HANDED A BOARD to his brother Holt, who was up on a ladder replacing a rotted section of roof trim on his little cabin on the bayou. “It doesn’t sound like much of a case,” Max said.
Holt held the board in place with one hand and secured it with his nail gun with the other. “It’s not sensational or meaty, no, but Alex agreed to take the case, and you’re the only one available at the moment to handle it. She’ll bring you a folder tonight, but what I told you is the gist of it.”
“But the entire case is based on Alex’s opinion of someone else’s opinion. That’s hearsay in court. Why in the world is it good enough for you to launch an investigation?”
“The client meets our criteria. She suspects something has happened, and the police won’t open an investigation. The client is credible, even if the missing person is questionable.”
“And if it turns out to be nothing but a loose woman taking an unscheduled weekend with her latest passing fancy?”
Holt climbed down the ladder and placed his nail gun in its case. “Then we’ve still solved the case and earned our fee. We find answers here, Max, and the answers don’t always have to be criminal in nature. Turning her away would be going against the very reason we opened the agency in the first place.”
Max sighed. “I get it. I just don’t know how much more I can do than what the police have already done.”
“Talk to the client and try to find a new line of investigation. Poke around into things the police wouldn’t have bothered with—question classmates, see if she had a favorite hangout.” Holt clapped him on the shoulder. “Do what you do best. If anyone can ferret out an answer on this, it’s you.”
Max picked up the ladder and followed Holt to the storage shed. He wished he had as much confidence in his abilities as his brother did. Maybe that was why Alex had assigned him a relatively straightforward, boring and safe case. Maybe they didn’t really believe he could handle the work, either. Not now.
The old Max was invincible … indestructible. At least that’s what he’d thought.
The bullet wound ached in his shoulder as he lifted the ladder onto the rack in the back of the shed—a constant reminder of what had happened.
Of his failure.
Chapter Two
The knock on Colette’s apartment door sent her into a nervous flurry. Holt’s brother was right on time, but despite a sleepless night, she still didn’t have a single thing to add to the information she’d already given Alex. She smoothed the wrinkles out of the bottom of her T-shirt and took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly, before opening the door.
Then sucked it back in when she saw Max.
She shouldn’t have been surprised by the prime male specimen in front of her. After all, Holt was an attractive man, but his brother was a work of art. The dark hair, finely toned body and beautifully tanned skin were an equal match for Holt, but the chiseled facial features and turquoise eyes belied a Nordic mother. It was a masterful combination of DNA.
“Colette Guidry?” he asked, his voice as smooth and sexy as his appearance.
“Yes.”
He stared at her for a couple of seconds. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yes, of course.” Colette opened the door and allowed him to pass, flustered that she’d completely lost her sense and her manners. “I’m sorry. I just feel so scattered.”
He stepped inside her apartment and glanced around the open living room, kitchen and dining area. Colette got the impression that he was sizing her up, both by her own appearance and by that of her home. For a moment, she bristled, but then remembered he was a career cop. His mind probably automatically shifted to such things if he was working, and she could hardly fault him for assessing her when she was paying for his natural ability to do just that in the first place.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”
“That would be great.”
“Have a seat,” she said and waved a hand at the kitchen table. “How do you take your coffee?”
“Black.”
He slid into a chair at the table, and she poured two black coffees and carried them to the table. “I guess Alex filled you in on everything?” she asked as she took a seat across from him.
He nodded.
“I know it’s not much, and given Anna’s past, it’s probably less than anything, but I can’t help but think something has happened.”
“You care about her, so you’re worried,” he said simply. “I’m here to get you answers.”
His words were meant to be comforting, and Colette didn’t doubt their sincerity, but something in the tone of his voice made her think Max considered this entire case a waste of his time, which only strengthened her resolve. Regardless of Max’s opinion, she’d paid for his services and she was going to get her money’s worth.
“I’ve thought about it all night,” she said, “but haven’t been able to come up with anything I didn’t tell Alex.”
“It’s hard to know what may be important. Likely, you’ll think of things as I move through the investigation.”
“Where would you like to start?”
“At her apartment. I know the police went through it, but they would only have looked for signs of a crime. Since we have to assume at this point that she left of her own accord, I want to look for things that might tip me off as to where she may have gone and for what reason.”
Colette nodded. “Now that I’ve had the police out, I don’t think the landlord would have a problem letting us back in.”
“Us?”
“Yes. The landlord isn’t likely to let you in without me. She’s very particular about the rules.”
He frowned. “I suppose it’s all right for you to accompany me to her apartment.”
“Actually, I’ve taken some long-overdue vacation time. I intend to accompany you everywhere.”
His jaw dropped then clamped shut and set in a hard line. “I can’t allow that.”
“I wasn’t aware that I had to have permission when I’m footing the bill.”
“It’s a matter of safety,” he said, not bothering any longer to hide his frustration. “If Anna is in some kind of trouble, then the investigation could be dangerous.”
“Then I guess it’s good you’ll have a medical professional with you.”
MAX CLIMBED INTO HIS JEEP, completely frustrated and with no outlet for expressing it, as the main source of his frustration was perched in the passenger seat. If he’d known he was going to be playing escort to an untrained civilian, he may have told Alex he couldn’t take the case. The young, shapely Cajun woman with miles of wavy dark hair and green eyes was the last thing in the world he’d been expecting.
When Alex had described Colette as one of the head nurses where she used to work, he’d immediately formed a picture in his mind of an old, blue-haired woman with ugly white shoes and a perpetual frown. But there wasn’t a single thing about Colette that was old, blue-haired or ugly. Even in jeans, T-shirt and tennis shoes, and with her hair in a ponytail, she was still one of the sexiest women Max had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but wonder how those long legs would look without the jeans encasing them.
She’s a hard-core, hardheaded career woman, just like Mother.
And that was really where all train of thought came to a screeching