Page 36 of Taken from Her
Diana slowed the patrol car, studying the terrain with new understanding. The trail offered isolation for a runner seeking meditation, but it also provided multiple vantage points for someone studying patterns.
"Predictable routine?" Diana asked.
"That's what made it peaceful for her. Same route, same timing, same sense of connection to the landscape." Lavender's voice carried sadness mixed with appreciation. "She told me once that teaching teenagers about environmental science required spiritual grounding. The morning runs weren't just exercise."
Diana absorbed this, recognizing how yesterday's coffee conversation was adding emotional context to technical evidence. Where she saw potential vulnerability, Lavender saw meaningful rituals that had been violated by someone who understood their importance.
"What about Isabel's photography spots?" Diana asked, noting several scenic overlooks where a vehicle could park with clear views of the coastline.
"She was documenting the coast's changing light throughout the seasons. Sunrise, sunset, storms, calm weather." Lavender gestured toward a pull-off area where tire tracks were still visible in the gravel. "That spot there was one of her favorites. She'd arrive early, set up her equipment, and wait for the perfect shot."
Diana pulled into the overlook, studying the positioning. Perfect for photography, but also perfect for surveillance. Someone could park here with telephoto equipment and observe coastal activity for miles in either direction.
"And Tara’s beach walks?"
"Evening ritual with her rescue dog. They'd walk the tide line, practicing commands and building trust." Lavender's expression softened. "The dog was terrified of water when she first got him. Those walks were therapy for both of them."
As they continued along the coastal highway, Diana felt something shifting in how she processed the investigation. Where she'd previously seen evidence and timeline data, she now understood the emotional significance of what had been stolen. Not just three women's lives, but rituals of healing and connection that had been twisted by someone who'd studied them intimately.
"This is different," Diana said, the observation emerging before she'd consciously decided to voice it.
"Different how?"
Diana considered the question, aware that her answer would reveal more about herself than about the investigation. "I've never enjoyed professional collaboration this much. Usually, working with others means explaining procedures, managing personalities, and coordinating different approaches that don't always align."
"And now?"
"Now I'm discovering that your insights make me see things I would have missed entirely." Diana glanced at Lavender, noting how the coastal light caught the silver in her hair. "You're not just providing information. You're helping me understand what the informationmeans."
Lavender smiled, something warm and knowing in her expression. "Different skill sets, same goal."
"More than that." Diana returned her attention to the winding road, but felt Lavender's presence like warmth against her side. "This feels like...a partnership."
The admission surprised them both. Diana rarely acknowledged how isolating command could be or how her usual investigative approach involved gathering information from others rather than working with them as equals.
"I like working with you too," Lavender said quietly. "You bring structure to my intuition and analytical thinking to my emotional understanding. We complement each other well."
The observation settled into the space between them. Diana found herself thinking about yesterday's coffee conversation, how easily they'd transitioned from case discussion to personal sharing and how natural it had felt to make future plans together.
"There," Lavender pointed toward a narrow access road that branched off the highway toward the ocean. "That leads to the area where Tara was last seen."
Diana turned onto the access road, noting how it wound through coastal vegetation before opening onto a dramatic vista where cliffs met churning ocean. The location offered both beauty and isolation—perfect for someone seeking peace, equally perfect for someone plotting harm.
"This is where we start looking," Diana said, parking where the access road ended at a small graveled area overlooking the ocean.
As they stepped out of the patrol car, salt air hit them immediately, carrying the sounds of waves against stone and seabirds calling overhead.
Diana allowed herself a moment to appreciate the view and the woman beside her whose presence was transforming how she understood both her work and herself.
The rocky coastline stretched in front of them, tide pools reflecting the brightening sky while seabirds called overhead. Salt spray misted the air, creating a lovely atmosphere around the investigation site where Tara had been last seen walking her rescue dog three weeks ago. Coastal wind carried scents of seaweed and brine, the ocean's constant rhythm providing backdrop to their search.
Diana pulled evidence collection equipment from the patrol car's trunk—camera, evidence bags, measuring tape, and latex gloves—while Lavender studied the terrain with a different perspective. Where Diana saw a potential crime scene, Lavender saw the refuge that had been violated.
"She'd bring him down this path," Lavender said, pointing toward a narrow trail that wound between coastal sage toward the water's edge. "Max was terrified of waves when she first rescued him. The evening walks were about building trust gradually."
Diana followed Lavender down the sandy path, noting how it provided both privacy and multiple access points. Perfect for peaceful dog training, equally perfect for someone planning an ambush.
"Show me exactly where they would have walked," Diana said, pulling out her camera to document the scene.
