Chapter 30

BEING JOBLESS was a strange feeling. I’d had employment in one form or another since I was fourteen. So I decided to spend the rest of my evening doing something smart. Something productive.

I waved at the bartender, a good-looking young guy with black hair and blue eyes. And a barbell in his eyebrow. Like some fine-ass detective who shall remain nameless. “Can I have another vodka cranberry?”

Okay, no judging me. It wasn’t like I could go to work. Walking out on Graycie had pretty much set a flamethrower to my career. My apartment was cold and lonely and empty, and I got tired of rattling around in it. All things that led to my current condition.

I was jobless in a bar in the middle of the afternoon, getting my drink on. My mother would be so proud. Actually my mother probably wouldn’t give a damn. I just wasn’t feeling too hot about myself.

I felt strange without my credentials. At least I still had my weapon. I’d upgraded the standard issue and purchased one with a more comfortable grip, so I didn’t have to turn it in. I wasn’t one of those trigger-happy types or macho men that needed a gun, but it had been part of my daily dress so long, I felt naked without it.

Although there wasn’t going to be much call for it in my new line of work. All of my clients were already dead. I chuckled at that macabre thought and sipped my drink.

It was hard to imagine what else I could do, who else I could be. My new life without the FBI in it. Without long, unexpected trips across the country and late nights trying to get into the minds of the darkest predators. Without a go-bag at the end of my bed. A life of more stability. Coming home every night to… to what? Danny hadn’t seemed all that eager about my return. It made my future look a little lonely and cold.

So what next? Was I supposed to set up a medium shop full of lava lamps and crystal balls? Read tarot cards in my downtime? And if a ghost happened to give me critical info, pass it on to my former law-enforcement colleagues, who would then proceed to laugh me into the next county?

I wondered if Grace had closed my personnel file yet. Fuck, he probably put it in the shredder the moment I closed his office door. Luckily I knew where to find some scotch tape.

No. I pictured the faces of Ethan’s parents. I’d given them something. Something they probably thought, deep down inside, in a place they didn’t acknowledge, that they’d never have. Closure. Peace of mind. It was worth something.

Two vodka cranberries and a plate of nachos, and all I’d decided was to get a dog. It was a start, I guess. I sighed and propped my chin in my hand. I thought about my sterile apartment and the six plants I’d killed. I probably needed a robust dog. The canine equivalent of a cactus.

I was already looking for apartments back in Brickell Bay. Since I had no gainful employment, I had no ties to DC, and I wanted to be closer to my family. Wanted to have my sister’s awful breakfast and help my mother in the god-awful wellness store. I wanted to pretend I didn’t know my father was growing weed in Skylar’s greenhouse and help my nieces with their homework.

I wanted to be with that stubborn jackass—otherwise known as Danny. Wanted to eat stupid cereal in the morning with the bowls back in the right cupboard, where they belonged, and talk over the paper. Fall into bed together at night, wrapped up in one another until he eventually sprawled—like he always did—took over too much of the bed, and snored like an orchestra with chainsaws instead of violins.

As if I’d conjured him up, my phone began to ring. I glanced at the caller ID and smiled as I answered. “Miss me so soon?”

“Don’t you wish.” Danny’s voice gentled. “How’d it go?”

“About what you’d expect.”

“In that case I assume you’re calling me from the witness protection program.”

“Grace was pissed,” I admitted. “And I’m kind of jobless right now.”

“He fired you?”

“I kind of quit.”

I couldn’t be bothered to fill the silence that followed my oblique statement. Instead I absently watched the bartender making a flaming concoction for some drunk who clearly didn’t appreciate the artistry.

“So what’s your plan, exactly?” Danny finally asked.

“I’ll probably be looking for something in Brickell Bay.”

“That so?”

His cautious questions finally got on my nerves. “No. I thought I’d join the circus for a little while. Tour the country with a freak show. Maybe I’ll have an act opened by the bearded lady and the two-headed chicken.”

“Rain—”

“No, you’re right, McKenna. The two-headed chicken is way more established than me. I’ll open for him instead.”

There was an exasperated sigh on the other end. “Are you done?”

“I’m about to be.”

“Don’t hang up on me.”

“Then stop irritating me. I’ve had a hard day.”

“I’m just trying to figure out where we go from here.”

Where did we go from there? I wasn’t sure I had an exact blueprint. But I had the general answer. “Forward,” I said firmly.

He chuckled. “That’s a fucking plan I can get behind.” His yawn almost distorted his next words. “I hate to cut this short, but I need to get to bed.”

“Long day?”

“Yeah, and tomorrow’s looking even longer. Tate’s pulled everyone on a task force to find the Robertsons. They were reported missing earlier today by the grandmother.” It was clear Danny chose his words carefully. “We’re organizing a grid search, so it’s all hands on deck.”

Don’t tell him about Hellar Creek again. My tone was equally light. “I can imagine.”

“You might as well say it.”

“Say what?”

“You know where they are.”

“I already told you where they are. And how they got there.”

Danny sighed. “You’re determined to be the end of me, aren’t you?”

“Hashtag life goals.” The next time he yawned, I caught the bug and yawned reflexively. “You should get some rest. I’m probably going to head home.”

“Alone?” After he uttered the words, he swore. “Sorry. None of my business. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that?”

I didn’t buy his easygoing tone for one minute, and I wasn’t going to let him doubt me for a minute either. “Alone,” I said concisely.

“Ah.” I couldn’t quite place that ah. There was a lot of mistrust in that ah. “I’ll just talk to you tomorrow. Okay?”

“Sounds good.” There was a perfect pause there for an I love you, but I resisted. Swallowed the urge. There would be plenty time for that. “Nite.”

“Nite.”

I hung up and took another sip of my drink. I’d probably had enough, but you just don’t toss a vodka cranberry. At least I didn’t. Especially since I was unemployed. I debated for a few minutes on downing the rest or buying a flask.

“You want another?”

A little startled, I glanced up into the smiling blue eyes of the bartender. “No thanks. Three is my limit.” I reached in my back pocket for my wallet, and the bartender waved a hand.

“On the house.”

I squinted and tried to focus on why my drinks had suddenly become free and why the bartender’s smile was quite so friendly. Then my eyes widened. Wow. Oh wow. I’d been out of the game so long I didn’t even know when I was being hit on. “No. No thanks.”

The bartender’s gaze remained friendly, but a little rueful. “Your loss.”

“I’m sure it is.” I slapped down a bill large enough to cover twice my tab and headed out the door. I had a feeling that earning Danny’s trust didn’t involve some other guy in my pants. Not that I wanted anyone else.

No. I would go back to work on my relationship. My mouth twisted wryly. Back to Mr. “It’s not like I’m kicking you out or anything.” It went right up there with a marriage proposal of “we might as well.” Be still mah beatin’ heart.

A girl could get used to that sort of declaration.

As I got in my car, my phone rang. I checked the screen, only to find an unknown caller ID. I wasn’t in the mood, but I answered anyway, on the off chance it might be important. I answered with a hint of irritation in my tone. I know they were just doing their job, but if it was a salesperson, he or she would rue the fucking day. “Hello?”

“Agent Christiansen?”

“Speaking.” Although I suppose I’d have to drop the Agent part. “Who is this?”

“This is Margaret Macmillan.”

I stopped fiddling with the a/c controls. Although I liked to think I was quick on my feet, hearing her voice startled me. What to say? “Good to hear from you? Killed anyone else lately?” We hadn’t exactly parted on good terms.

“What can I help you with?” I finally asked crisply.

“I wanted to know if you were available for a discussion.”

“About what?”

“I’d really like to do this in person. Not on the phone.”

I frowned. “I’m not in the area at the moment. Maybe you should speak to a detective in the department. I can give you his number if you hold on a minute.” I put her on speaker and thumbed through my contacts. I didn’t know the Brickell Bay PD number by heart, and I wasn’t giving her Danny’s cell. Which got me to wondering….

“How’d you get this number?”

“I have friends in the department.”

Which meant she already had the number. I stopped searching. “I’m sorry, what did you say you needed again?”

“I just wanted to talk. Needed to talk.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Not in any official capacity,” she insisted. “I just… I’m worried about Jenna.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“I’m afraid she might’ve had more to do with Amy’s disappearance than she let on. I just… I really need to talk to someone.”

I bit my lip. I had absolutely no illusion she was telling me the truth. She wanted to see what I knew about the case. Wanted to see if the department was listening to any of my crazy ramblings. It was my policy to always let a suspect talk. If she wanted to tell me something, I was ready to listen. Only… I wasn’t active on the investigation any longer. In the eyes of BBPD, a suspect had been arrested and the case was coming to a close.

The right thing to do would probably be to insist she get in contact with BBPD. Or Danny. Or even Tate. Practically anyone other than an infamous ghost whisperer. Anything she told me would be tainted. Unusable. Hell, I don’t think I could have authenticated a Cool Ranch Dorito in court at that point. Common sense said I should not accept her invitation to meet and talk. That I would only be making things worse.

Common sense had never been my forte.

I sighed. “When do you want to meet?”