Page 67 of All the Missing Pieces

“It’s no big thing.”

“It is,” I argued.

He simply shrugged.

Then the second part of his statement about Tater’s supplies hit. “Wait. What happened to my van?”

Colt winced and I knew whatever he was about to say wouldn’t be good. “I’m sorry, Ridley. But whoever attacked you did a number on it. The inside is completely wrecked.”

27

COLT

Hell.The last thing I wanted to tell Ridley was that her van had been trashed. I’d gotten photos from my techs, and the inside would need to be completely rebuilt. I didn’t even want to think about the time and money that would take. Hopefully her insurance would handle the money part, at least.

Ridley blinked rapidly, and I knew she was fighting to keep her tears at bay. Her hands fisted, fingernails pressing into her palms. The fact that she was battling so hard to stop the sobs from hitting only wrecked me more.

Her eyes closed for a moment, and I watched as she slowed her breathing, fighting back everything she was feeling. Back into some vault inside herself that she wasn’t about to let me into. Something about that grated. I wanted to know what she hid in there. What she was feeling now and then. I wanted to know…everything.

Ridley’s eyes opened, that startling deep blue locking on me. “My laptop?”

My back teeth ground together. “Gone.”

She cursed, and Tater let out a sound of agreement from her carrier that made Bowser’s ears twitch. “My desk. There’s a locked drawer. Did the bastard get in there?”

My brows pulled together, and I shifted, pulling out my phone. I hit our lead evidence tech’s contact. It rang twice before she answered. “Sheriff,” she greeted.

“Hey, Tricia. How’s it going?”

“It’s going. I’d say we're about halfway done. No prints other than the ones I’m assuming are our vic’s.”

Something about Tricia referring to Ridley as a victim didn’t sit right. It was the kind of thing that was said day after day, but when it was Ridley, it just feltwrong. I swallowed down the urge to bite my lead evidence tech’s head off. “Ridley said there’s a locked drawer in her desk. The unsub get into that one?”

“Not unless he’s Houdini. It’s still locked up tight.”

My gaze moved to Ridley, her own was locked on me, looking for any sort of sign. I shook my head, and she let out a long breath. It was as if I could see the relief sweeping through her in a wave.

I forced my focus back to Tricia and the task at hand. “Think you’ll finish tonight?”

Voices sounded in the background, the familiar chatter of the techs as they worked. “Should wrap it up in about four hours.”

“Can you have someone drop the van by my place when you’re done?” I asked.

Tricia was quiet for a moment. “You want to do a once-over?”

“No,” I said quickly. The last thing I needed was Tricia thinking I was second-guessing her work. “Ridley’s staying here.”

The beat of silence was longer this time, and I started to wonder if the second-guessing would’ve been better. Tricia cleared her throat. “Sure thing. Max and I can drop it off when we’re finished.”

“Thank you. Send any reports to my email, and make sure you file the paper copies too.” I wanted to be certain we hadbackups in at least three places from now on, because whoever this was didn't want us to have all the pieces.

“You got it. Anything else?” Tricia asked.

“Nope. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Colt.” And with that, she hung up.

I pulled the phone away from my ear, locking it and sliding it into my pocket. “What’s in the drawer, Chaos?”

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