Page 32 of Finding Amanda

"You could help with that, too."

”I can't investigate innocent people on a whim, Mark. It's not legal. And I don't know how I can get that list. If I worked in New York maybe?—"

"What if I get it?" Mark said. "Will you help me check it?"

"What are you looking for exactly?"

"A connection between Sheppard and somebody who knew my wife was going to be there. Somebody had to have told Sheppard. Her roommate for the weekend invited her. Maybe we should start there."

"What difference does it make how he found her?" Chris asked. "He found her—isn't that what you should be focusing on?"

Mark rubbed his temple. Was Chris right? Did it matter now how Sheppard found her? He turned at the street and walked back toward the house, shivering. The sun wasn't pumping much heat into Massachusetts today.

He stopped just short of the garage door. "I think we need to know. If somebody did tip him off, that means somebody close to her can't be trusted. We need to know who that person is."

"Meanwhile, what about Sheppard?"

"Well, that was my next favor," Mark said. "Have you found anything on him?"

"Not yet. You know, if you came to work here . . ."

"I'm trying to save my marriage, Chris, not add another nail to its coffin. Believe me, right now I'd much rather have a job where I could carry a gun legally."

A pause. "As opposed to carrying a gun . . . illegally?"

"Never mind, Agent Sapp," Mark said, picturing the handgun in his glove box. In this state, getting caught with it would mean at least eighteen months' jail time, but right now, it was worth the risk. "Listen, if you help me out on this, I'll owe you forever. I'll . . . I'll redo your bathroom or something."

"I don't want my bathroom redone. I want you and your gut feelings helping me solve crimes instead of hanging cabinets."

"You still trust my instincts?"

"Of course. You saved my butt in Afghanistan more than once."

"Then do this for Amanda, because right now, my gut is screaming at me that she's in danger."

Waiting through the long pause on the other end of the phone, Mark prayed he had his friend hooked.

"I'll have to work on it from home," Chris said. "I can't use my FBI resources."

"I know, but you're better than anyone I know at ferreting out information. You'll work so much faster than I will."

"Fine. Call me when you have some names, and I'll see what I can find out."

"Thanks, man. I appreciate it."

CHAPTER EIGHT

After a yawn and a cat-like stretch, Amanda closed the lid of her laptop, thankful to put another day of writing behind her.

Her gaze drifted to the bouquet of yellow roses on the corner of her desk. She inhaled the sweet scent, imagining Alan scrunching up his eyes, thinking about what he wanted to say, and then bending over the small card with his ballpoint pen. But of course Alan hadn't written the note himself. Probably the gray-haired man who'd delivered the flowers had done it, writing it word-for-word as Alan dictated it over the phone.

She tried to remember when she'd told him her favorite flowers were yellow roses. She didn't think she had. But however he'd figured it out, she was more impressed today than she had been over the weekend. And that was saying something.

Amanda grabbed the vase and headed toward the kitchen, remembering the note in her pocket.Until next time . . .Would Alan call today? She'd sent him the proposal and the first three chapters of her memoir this morning, so she expected him to call or email, if for no other reason than to say he'd received it. Her heart bubbled, and a tiny giggle escaped.

She set the flowers near the telephone where her notebook lay, on it the notes she'd taken when she'd spoken with her lawyer earlier.Her lawyer. Guilt niggled at her, darkening her bright mood. She'd consulted with an attorney a few weeks back, and that morning she'd made an appointment to see her the following day.

She shouldn't feel guilty about it. It was unfair to string Mark along. He'd never get on with his life as long as he believed there was hope for their marriage. There wasn't. The kindest thing to do was get moving on the divorce.

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