Page 17 of Caged

“What? No, he’s a jerk but I don’t think he’d hurt Wendy.”

Maxwell walked in and asked, “Almost done?” I took it as her signal it was time to go.

“I just need your John Hancock here.” I pointed to the line. After he signed I gave him the top copy and put our copy in my backpack. “Thank you, Mr. Darling. If you hear from Wendy, or think of something else that might be helpful, please don’t hesitate to call.”

I shook his hand before handing him a business card.

“Thank you.” He extended his hand to shake Maxwell’s.

“We’ll keep you updated on our progress,” she said.

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” he asked.

“We’ll do our best,” Maxwell answered.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t promise any more than that.

“Nice job getting him to open up like that,” Maxwell said after we got back in my truck.

“You say that like you’re surprised.” I was tired of her treating me like an idiot.

“Learn how to take a compliment, Sheppard.”

I turned over the engine and revved it instead of answering her.

She sighed.

“What did you find in the bathroom?” I asked.

“Two toothbrushes and a hairbrush,” she said. “What else did you learn from Darling?”

“He hasn’t taken down the family photos. In fact, he picked up a wedding photo more than once, and there are tracks in the dust near the other photos.”

“He misses her,” Maxwell said, it felt more like she was thinking out loud than talking to me but I answered anyway.

“No shit, Sherlock.”

I didn’t have to turn my head to feel the heat of her glare.

“Continue,” she said, through gritted teeth.

“Wendy’s an only child. As you so cleverly stated, he’s still pining for his ex. He also confirmed the second car in the driveway is Wendy’s.”

“Anything else?” she asked as she typed notes on her phone.

“That’s not enough?”

She rested her hands in her lap, the tension in them obvious from her white-knuckle grip on her phone. She turned tome, and said, “If it’s all you have, then it’s enough. It was a question, Sheppard, not a judgment.”

What was it about her that made me so defensive?

“You heard the rest.”

“Did you pick up on anything while I searched?”

“He watched you like a hawk, but not like he was worried you’d steal something. More like curiosity. He reached for his ring a lot, he did it at the table, too. I think it’s a combination of nerves and missing his ex.”

“Thank you,” she said, sounding more exasperated than mad.

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