Over the years, Cam and I have had a thing going on.

I'd get called into the office, and he'd pretend not to notice me while totally checking me out. I never bothered to hide my slow perusals of those solid biceps and meaty, lickable pecs. We'd flirt a little--nothing too over the top, but plenty of innuendo bandied about. Then we both went back to our lives, until Cam inevitably called me in himself.

It was always something I could count on--a little pick-me-up when the day wasn't going so well. Whenever a client bummed me out or I wasn't feeling like my amazing self, all I had to do was saunter into Caldwell Investigations and bask in those piercing blue eyes as they immediately focused on my ass.

It'd never gone any further, and it never would. It wasn't that I was against having a boyfriend, but Cam had already been plenty vocal about what I did for a living. He was one of those guys who was convinced I'd been forced into this situation and that all I needed was someone to rescue me. But that couldn't have been further from the truth. What I needed was a commanding top who took over so I didn't have to. Someone who maybe got a little jealous when I went to work every night, but only in that hot, "I'm going to show you this ass is mine" way.

Cam just... wasn't that. He was too loyal; too much of a white knight. He'd probably want to cuddle after telling me I didn't have to see clients anymore. I got that enough from men like Brett. I didn't need it from Cam. Still, he was nice to be around, and the attention he paid me always stroked my ego.

Case in point, him calling me to join in on an interview with one of Caldwell's clients. If he were anyone else, I would've thought he was just feeding me a line to get me alone, but Cam didn't do lines. Not like that, anyway. When it came to investigations, he was all business.

I met him outside a stretch of government-owned buildings, dressed in a dark blue blazer with a periwinkle shirt underneath. He'd told me to dress nice, not that I had to dress for a funeral in blacks and grays. Cam hadn't gotten that memo, because when he came walking up from the parking garage he looked like he was about to attend a wake. All hard colors and hard edges that clashed so fiercely with his messy blond hair and those insanely bright eyes.

God, that man really needed a splash of color. Even just a sky blue tie would've done wonders to make him look more approachable. But from what I knew of Cam, he didn't want to be approachable. And from what I knew of myself, I had an itch to break every personal boundary he'd ever set.

Sidling up to him, I reached for the knot of his tie and straightened it out. "Are you here selling insurance?" I teased. "I think everybody's already on the government plan." I wrinkled my nose, our current government leaving an awful taste in my mouth. "On second thought, maybe they do need you."

"Not all of us have a suit in every color of the rainbow," Cam grumped, making that adorable bulldog face.

"Mm. You need a higher-paying job." I brushed imaginary lint off of his broad shoulders. Oh, to be that seam in his ill-fitting jacket. "So what did you need me for? Another politician desperate to escape their sham of a marriage?"

I'd had a few clients like that. Not just politicians, but men in high-profile positions that needed a Holly Homemaker on their arm for social functions, after which they got on their knees and sucked dick like they were starved for it.

"We took Senator Billings on as a client.”

Any playfulness fled from me instantly, and I was left cold. Liz's dad was their client? They were working with a guy who'd built a career on despising people like his own daughter?

"How the hell can you work with someone like that? How can you take his money? He's the reason Liz is on the streets in the first place."

I knew exactly what Cam was thinking as he stared at me incredulously. You're one to talk. But whether he understood it or not, I vetted every single one of my clients before I ever let them get close to me. I'd even started to run background checks to make sure I was dealing with somebody who was contacting me for the right reasons.

Apparently Caldwell Investigations couldn't manage that same amount of integrity.

"Grizz knows that," Cam said, "or at least he suspects."

That made me calm a little, and I stopped wondering how quickly I could get back to my car and salvage the rest of my day. I still had no desire to sit in an office with Senator "A Child Needs A Mom and a Dad," but I'd at least listen to what Cam was saying.

"He thinks the senator's viewpoints drove her off."

I rolled my eyes and let out a loud scoff. "Great detective work, Sherlock. The gay girl ran away from her traditional values politician dad."

A dad who was probably getting a hot piece of ass on the side, if my own experiences were anything to go off of. The thought of it pissed me off even more as I thought of how his hypocrisy had made Liz feel like she had no other choice. No one should have that much power over another person. Not without their consent, anyway.

"Don't be a prick," Cam shot back, that bulldog face hardening into something a little less endearing. "Grizz didn't know she was gay. I haven't had a chance to even tell him what you and I talked about earlier. He just thought it was a strict dad situation."

"Please," I resisted the urge to roll my eyes again. "Kids don't run away because they have strict parents. They run away because they're being abused or neglected and they don't feel safe at home."

Those blue eyes settled on me, peering through me for a long moment. Again I knew exactly what he was thinking; what he believed. But my choices had been my own. There was a huge difference between Liz and I, even if people like Cam would never see it.

"If you're not working for him, then what's the plan?"

"We get as much information as we can; find out what the situation is like from his perspective, then talk to Liz and get her side of it. Can't know the whole truth until we do that," Cam explained.

It was cute that he thought I'd let him anywhere near Liz right now. As judgy as he could be, I knew he'd only scare her off. And while I didn't think Senator Billings had anything new to offer, part of me was chomping at the bit to get a good look at the guy who'd made his own daughter feel like she had no other choice.

"So why am I even here? Is this punishment for that day I told you red wasn't your color? Because it really isn't." Blue looked a lot nicer on him. Even purple or green were nice complements to his skin tone, hair color, and those eyes.

Okay, no daydreaming about a Cam makeover. He's still taking you to see somebody who's trying to erase your existence.

"You're a good judge of character. You see through my bullshit, so I need you to see through his," he said with the smallest smile. Enough of one to make my heart melt a little, when it was combined with those words. It's not like I never heard compliments, but they mostly centered on my appearance or how well I did my job. Cam's assessment seemed remarkably earnest, and I felt a swell of pride even in spite of what we were doing here.

"Let's get this over with, then," I said, playing down what his words had done to me. "Can't wait to hear his side of things."

Maybe--if I was really lucky--the buzzing feeling of being praised by Cam would keep me from telling the senator off.

Probably not. But maybe.

* * *

The second the receptionist led us into Senator Billing's office, that "maybe" turned into a "hell naw."

The place was decorated in what I could only describe as homophobic propaganda. First of all, every paint and fabric color was so muted, so uninteresting that it felt like he'd told the designer to specifically avoid anything that might look "a little gay." Or in other words, even remotely colorful. Then there were the posters. Oh, the posters.

There were two on each wall, framed and displayed proudly. One was just a picture of the senator, his trophy wife, and what must have been Liz when she was much younger. It was a nice picture, but marred by big, bold text that proclaimed: Fighting For Family. Before I could even process all the ways that was wrong, my gaze fell on the next poster: An American flag with the words "Keep Our Values Alive" scrawled over top.

I nearly strained my eyes rolling them so hard, and I had to forcibly pull my gaze away from reading the other posters. Or the plaques. Or the framed Christian magazine cover. Okay. I really needed to focus on something else. Clearing my head and pretending like there was nothing else in the room, I focused squarely on the senator as Cam reached out a hand to greet him.

"Senator Billings. I'm Cameron McCabe, I work for Mr. Caldwell. This is my associate, Noah Blair. Is now a good time?"

"Of course," he said with a voice that was warm and friendly and made me hate him all the more. He didn't deserve that voice. "Can I have Jessica get you some coffee or tea?"

I followed Cam's lead and turned down the offer before settling into a chair. As the senator situated himself, I got a good look at the man behind the campaign. He was tall and well-built, like he'd actually been to a gym in recent memory. Short-cropped brown hair was slowly being overtaken by gray, giving it a salt-and-pepper look. He was younger than I'd expected, though maybe that was his eyes. They reminded me so much of Liz, and my stomach lurched as I thought of how many people trusted this man.

"We'd just like to ask you some questions to try and get a better idea of the situation," Cam began, his voice calm and professional and sexier for it.

"I'll answer everything I can," the senator said, his brows drawing together. "Lizzie is my world. The sooner you can find her..."

Already I had to bite my tongue. That was not a good sign. I clutched the arm of the chair instead, forcing a smile that I hoped read as understanding, and not "yeah, sure she is, you massive shitlord."

Cam started in with a harmless question I knew he must have already had the answer to. It was on the flier I'd given him, and there was no doubt in my mind the senator mentioned it when he hired them.

"When did you first notice Liz was missing?"

"It was last Tuesday. I came home from the office, and she wasn't there. My driver said she'd never come home from school--she just wasn't there when he went to pick her up," the senator answered. To his credit, he sounded genuinely distressed.

"Did you talk to any of her friends, or maybe her teachers? Find out when they saw her last? " Cam asked.

"She was marked in attendance for her first period class, but not any after. It was a new school for her, so I'm not sure she had any close friends. Not any that I knew about, at least."

That wasn't worth a lot. Unless they had a great relationship with their parents, teenagers weren't known for being completely honest. And considering the obvious conflict between Liz and her dad, I knew there had to be more people in the picture. People he'd maybe omitted for a reason, like a girlfriend. That thought struck something inside of me, tugging away until I couldn't ignore it.

"What about boyfriends?" I prodded, tossing the question out like it was a valid follow-up.

Cam didn't seem to think so, judging from the look he shot my way. But the senator just chuckled.

"Lizzie knows the rules. She's not allowed to date anyone until after she graduates. Her mother and I have been very firm on that."

I faked a smile, looking the man right in the eyes. "So no girlfriends either, then?"

That broke through the facade a little. His expression cracked, his smile faltering as he tried to figure out whether or not I was serious. He even looked to Cam, and, upon receiving no reassuring answer, said, "No, of course not. Lizzie doesn't believe in that."

"In... girlfriends?" I asked, feigning innocence. I might have even batted my eyelashes. "Or in gay people in general?"

Cam felt like he was about to erupt beside me. His nicely tanned face had turned a ruddy color, and his eyes were almost gray as they fixed on me. He turned to the senator then, and swept past my questions like he could erase the hint of doubt I'd put in the senator's mind.

"Did you notice any changes in her mood or behavior?"

Cam kept the man talking, asking questions that I guessed were standard. I stayed quiet and just observed, some part of me pleased by the fact that the senator kept looking to me after every question, like he was waiting for me to jump him with another uncomfortable truth bomb.

When the questions were over--and the senator cut an impressive check for Caldwell's services--Cam and I showed ourselves to the door. My skin crawled as I passed those posters again, and that first step into the hallway felt like breathing in a big gulp of fresh air after being stuck in a dump for hours. As soon as we were out of anyone's earshot, Cam turned to me with anger in his eyes.

"Were you trying to blow everything in there, or do you just like making people squirm?"

"Mostly you," I fired back automatically. But his anger was contagious, and it fed into my own. "How can you sit there and talk to that guy like he's just a regular person? He wants to erase our entire existence, Cam."

Except... that wasn't really true. Unless he was caught with his pants around his ankles and his cock buried in another guy, Cam would always pass as straight. I wasn't sure I'd ever "passed," and I preferred it that way.

"Because I need him, Noah." There was a growl in his voice, but his eyes were desperate. "You think I like sitting there in that No Homo shrine he calls an office? I got enough of that shit in Afghanistan."

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at his description. It was a serious moment. Not just with the circumstances, but because he hadn't talked much about what happened when he was in the service. I couldn't help it, though. "No Homo shrine” made me lose my shit, and I tried in vain to stifle a giggle behind my hand. Cam's bow-shaped lips tugged into a smirk and his eyes shone with amusement.

Okay, maybe I wasn’t as angry with him as I thought.

"You think he was telling the truth?" he finally asked as we walked down the wide, power-washed stairs.

"About not knowing his daughter is into girls? Definitely. I'm not sure if he's denying it or if he’s just that oblivious, but he has no idea. Probably thinks she was kidnapped outside of school or something."

"He would've called the cops if he thought that," Cam mused. "Seeing her face plastered all over the news would've gotten him a ton of sympathy votes."

He was right. I frowned, trying to think of anything that stood out to me. Apparently I was so busy wanting to hurl from all of the guy's posters that I didn't see what was right there in front of me. "So he knows she ran away. He doesn't want it getting out because it makes Mr. Family Man look like a bad dad."

"Exactly," Cam said with a sharp nod.

Realization sunk like lead in my stomach. If he knew she ran away, then there were definitely things he didn't tell us. And it was very, very possible that he had more of a hand in her sudden disappearance than I thought before. Going back there might not just be dangerous for Liz's emotional state, it might be dangerous, period.

"I'd like to talk to Liz." His voice softened so much that I couldn't help looking up at him, meeting a pair of baby blue eyes that made my breath stop for a second. Speaking of dangerous. "Is that okay?"

"She's skittish. If she knows you're working her case, she'll run." Probably to a place where I wouldn't be able to find her; where Vicki wouldn't be able to look after her. "If I introduce you, it has to be on my terms. No questions. No detective stuff."

Cam gave me a face, but eventually nodded. "Deal."

"Meet me tonight, eight o'clock, about a block from the Holiday Inn on Aurora. I’ll text you the address." I gave him a once-over, momentarily out of sorts as the world went from brilliant color to black and white. "And try to wear something that doesn't make you look like a funeral director."

I knew there was only one way Liz would accept Cam, and he probably wasn't going to like it much. But if we were going to do something, we had to move on this. I might not have been an official member of Caldwell Investigations, but I damn sure wasn't going to let Liz slip through the cracks--or end up with her father.

I'd find a way to help her. No matter what.