Page 78 of All the Missing Pieces

“Who’s a good boy?” Ridley’s voice wove through the air. “I missed you too. I might have an extra-special bone in here just for you.”

She was going to ruin my dog with her spoiling.

Then I heard feet crunching gravel and footsteps on the deck steps.

“Back by curfew and everything,” Ridley called.

I didn’t say a word. Still too damn annoyed that I cared so much.

She lowered herself to the chair next to mine, setting down a few bags. “I got whiskey, some Thai takeout, and a bone for B-man.”

I simply grunted.

“Oh, come on,” Ridley chided as she pulled out a massive bone and handed it to my dog. “You know I can’t stop working this case.”

“I know,” I said, still not looking at her.

“But that pisses you off,” she said, cutting to the chase.

I mulled that over for a moment before finally turning toward her. “It pisses me off that I care.”

Ridley’s blue eyes went wide as her jaw slackened. “I—you know, Law Man, you use the most insulting compliments I’ve ever heard.”

I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped free. It released a little of the tension that had been thrumming through me. But not the source. Because that source was sitting next to me, her burnt-orange scent filtering through the air and invading my senses. “I hope you got some curry at least.”

She arched a brow in challenge. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“Chaos, you look like a lot of things, but an idiot isn’t one of them.”

A hint of pink stained her cheeks, and hell if I didn’t love knowing I affected her. She bent and went fishing in the bag, pulling out a carton and handing it to me. As I took it, our fingers brushed, and a zing ofsomethingshot through me. Not electricity, nothing as simple as that for a woman as unique as Ridley.

This was more. Like sparks detonating in a chain reaction through my bloodstream. Or a million and one nerve endings waking up after a century of sleep. Whatever the reaction, I was monumentally screwed.

I jerked the carton toward me. “Thanks.” My voice had a rougher edge than it normally did, and I forced my gaze to the food. Coconut curry. My favorite. “How’d you know?”

“Asked the girl who took my order. Figured, small town, you’ve likely been there before. So I asked if you had a favorite.”

I swallowed hard as I grabbed a carton of rice to go with the curry. “Em and I order from there a lot.”

Ridley stilled for a moment, likely taking in the fact that I’d mentioned my sister for the first time without her prodding. She pulled out her own carton of noodles and a plastic fork. “I’m really not an idiot?—”

“I know that?—”

“Just listen,” Ridley said, cutting me off. “I don’t have a death wish.”

That was good, but it didn’t seem like it from where I was sitting.

She spun her fork in the pad Thai, which looked like it was full of tofu. “I’ve been looking for cold cases similar to my sister’s for almost four years now.”

My hand froze, fingers tightening around the spoon. I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course Ridley would be investigating her sister’s case.

“I’ve found twenty-three of them.”

My spoon dropped into my curry.

Ridley’s deep-blue eyes swam with pain. “And I think your sister was the first.”

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