VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel) (7 page)

“I don’t see why, this is a perfectly acceptable suit for a meeting with the detective.” She grabbed her laptop bag and slid the strap over her shoulder.

“Yes, it would be if we were auditing the man in his office. We’re meeting him in a pub outside a sports facility.” He opened the room door for her.

She inhaled as she passed by him—a little tremor of heat ran through her again, and she swallowed the sigh that threatened to pop out at the masculine scent of spice and hotel soap.

Pathetic.

* * * * *

Luke pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall down the road from their hotel. The chain store should have just what they needed.

“We really don't have time to be shopping,” Abby complained even as she climbed out of the passenger side. “We should be worrying about what's happened to Brianna, not what I look like.”

“Until we have a clue as to what happened to your friend we need to not attract attention. Right now you scream Federal Agent,” he said as they headed into the store.

He held the door for her again, hiding the smile that threatened. Every time she got too close she blushed. If getting her cooperation in hiding her identity from anyone who might be searching for her wasn’t so serious, he’d love to tease some of the starch out of her.

“Everyone in the bar will be relaxed and casual. We want to blend in, not stick out as an easy target.”

“You’re a little paranoid, don't you think?” She turned her back to him and marched toward the women’s section of the store.

Not when it comes to keeping you safe
.

Growling under his breath, he counted to ten before stalking after her. In the first aisle of clothes, she stood considering a pair of dark, stiff jeans that said
brand-new-just-went-shopping
. She really had no clue how to fit into her environment, or relax for that matter.

“Not those.” Before she could stop him, he snatched them out of her hand and hung them back on the rack.

“Hey! I thought you wanted me to get jeans,” she said, getting that stubborn-Abby look in her eyes and her chin rising.

“Yes, but we want these to look like you’ve worn them for years, not that you bought them today to look like a tourist.” Grasping her elbow, he led her farther down the aisle to the pre-washed jeans. “This is more what I was thinking.” Releasing her arm, he pulled out several pairs—one with some well-placed, frayed rips—checked the sizes and thrust them into her arms.

“You don’t know what size I wear.”

He sized her up from head to toe and gave her a grin. “Trust me. After last night I have a very good idea of just what size you are, sweetheart. Check the tags and see.”

She did, muttering a curse under her breath about arrogant asses.

Could he help enjoying the way she narrowed her eyes at him?

Without waiting, he moved around the aisles until he came to the sports fan section. “I don’t see you as a basketball fan, so baseball or football?” When she started to answer, he held up his hand. “Wait, I know. Baseball.”

“Why baseball? Don’t you think I can understand football or like looking at all the muscle-bound men in tight pants like other women?” Her lips had pinched tight and the urge to kiss them loose hit him.

“No. I’m more than sure you’d love all that violence and sweat, but baseball is a thinking-person’s game. Given your love of numbers, the game’s stats alone would probably give you an orgasm.” With a grin he held up a baseball jersey proudly proclaiming love of the Cleveland Indians.

“Screw you, Edgars,” she muttered as she grabbed the shirt and stomped away toward the changing room.

“Take off the tags and save them. You’re wearing these out of the store.”

Over her shoulder she flipped him the eternal symbol of brotherly love and kept walking.

This time he laughed at her disgruntlement. In the past five years he’d forgotten what fun it was to aggravate Abby. The more she fussed about it, the stronger his urge to tease her.

Picking out a few more nondescript items—one black sweater, a black skirt, a dark grey hoodie pullover and some sneakers—he refrained from getting her underwear. As much as he wanted to, she’d draw the line in accepting him buying her those items. He handed them to the petite little brunette attendant, asking her to deliver those to his girlfriend, then wandered over to the men’s section. Abby wasn’t the only one who wasn’t prepared for a long stay in Cleveland.

As he chose a few items for himself, his mind kept focusing on Abby. Why was he so damn attracted to the only woman who had more prickly sides than a cactus? Had been since the first day at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center down in Glenco when she’d rolled her eyes at him. She saw right through his charm-boy act, which both thrilled and scared the crap out of him. The youngest of three brothers and only older than their sister by a year, he’d always been able to sweet-talk his way out of any situation. Not even his family saw the real him as well as Abby did.

His clothes selections made, he moved away from the changing room and stood in a corner, watching everyone milling about in the store. No one seemed to be paying him any unwarranted attention or looking for Abby. Perhaps their presence on the case was still unknown to the people responsible for her friend’s disappearance.

Then he remembered his dream and a cold chill ran through him.

He hadn’t had it since he’d been with Abby on that disastrous night of FLETC graduation—not until last night. If he could just ship her back to Washington, maybe the dream would go away. But she was right. Her friend had called for her help. Either Abby subconsciously knew something or had the ability with that magnificent brain of hers to find her friend and unravel this mystery. Which meant until they found her friend or solved the problem, Abby was in danger and his to protect.

Thank God with all her wallflower tendencies, she flew under the radar of most men. He didn’t need
that
complication.

“What do you think? Will I do now?”

He turned at her voice and stared.

Oh hell!
Things just got very complicated.

His wonderfully geeky Abby had transformed into a supermodel.

Starting at her feet, where her red-tipped toes peeked out of a pair of open-toed sandals, he let his gaze travel north. Her trim ankles showed just below the hem of the jeans that hugged every inch of her long, slender legs—legs that seemed to go on forever—and accented the curves of her thighs and hips. The baggy jersey should’ve hidden her curves, but the way the team’s name clung to the tops of her perky breasts made his mouth go dry. As much as the bun she’d had her hair in said,
I’m all business
, the ponytail she now wore announced,
I’m young and fun
.

This was not good. Not at all
.

“What’s wrong? Did I forget something?”

Yes. You forgot to be Abby
.

He swallowed his irritation. “No. You look fine.”

She stepped back into the changing room to retrieve her old clothes and the other items he’d sent in to her, including a pair of running shoes the sales girl must’ve gotten her, too. “This is going to cost a bit more than I meant to spend.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll put it on my credit card and the government can pay for it.” He grabbed her elbow to steer her toward the front of the store. We just need to get moving.”

“I can walk by myself,” she said, jerking her arm from his grasp. “Besides, if we’re late, it’s your fault, not mine. You insisted we go shopping.”

Following her to the checkout, he cursed his own suggestion. The whole idea had been not to draw attention to them. Now every man in the pub would have to be blind or stupid not to notice Abby. If anything happened to her now, as she’d just said, it was his own damn fault.

* * * * *

Luke parked around the corner from Flannery’s Pub. They locked her laptop and their other purchases in the trunk. He insisted Abigail put her hand through his crooked elbow so they’d look like a couple as they walked up the street. She’d never admit it to him, but she was thankful he was there to steady her as they walked. Unused to even the small heels of the sandals she’d bought at the store, she’d wobble more if it weren’t for the support of his strong arm.

The pub sat on the corner of the street in the lower part of a refurbished building that looked like it dated from the turn of the previous century. They strolled past the outdoor patio with umbrella-topped tables and flowerboxes full of spring flowers. It was still a little too chilly for diners outside yet, but Abigail imagined what a lovely spot it would be in summer for lunch al fresco.

“After you,” Luke said with a wink as he held the wood-and-lead-glass door for her.

She gave him a slanted look of irritation then stepped into the warmth of an Irish pub, complete with Celtic designs etched into the glass panels throughout the space. Rich, dark wood covered the bar, the paneling and all the booths. Numerous televisions mounted around the area marked it a sports enthusiasts’ haven. Luke was right, her new attire helped her relax and blend in with the lunch crowd, many of whom looked like they were going to the baseball game later in the day.

Detective Jeffers sat in a corner of the pub, a heaping plate of fish and chips and a glass of something dark in front of him. As they approached his table, he scooted out of the booth, focusing his attention on her. Even she would be hard-pressed to miss the sudden male appreciation in his face.

“Ms. Whitson,” he said, shaking her hand.

Abigail liked his firm handshake. Sister Rose Thomas always said,
You can tell a lot about a person from their handshake
. Jeffers’ grip said
I’m someone strong and trustworthy
.

Abigail smiled at him before sliding into the booth.

“Edgars,” the detective said as he shook Luke’s hand too. “Glad you two could join me.”

“Jeffers.” Luke slid in beside her, muttering under his breath.

She swore he said something about damn supermodels. When she peeked at him, his mouth was set in a firm line and he stared down at the beer menu. Ever since she walked out of the changing room, he’d been as grumpy as a bear with a burr up his butt.

Too bad. He’d wanted her in this outfit and he’d just have to get over whatever was bothering him. Putting Luke’s surliness out of her mind, she leaned a little closer to the policeman. “Is there any news about—”

Luke grabbed her hand, startling her. He stared into her eyes, giving his head a little shake.

The waitress, dressed in a green T-shirt promoting the pub and jeans stepped up to their table. “Can I take your order?” she asked, smiling sweetly at Luke.

Flashing the girl his best smile as if nothing in the world was bothering him seconds before, he pointed to the beer section of the menu. “I’ll take a Black and Tan and we’ll have two orders of fish and chips.”

Abigail swallowed her own sudden irritation. “I’ll just have water, please,” she said when the waitress quit grinning at Luke. “And make that one order of fish and chips, I’d like the Reuben instead.”

“Don’t know what you’re missing.” Luke winked at the waitress who actually blushed before turning away.

Did the man know how to do anything but flirt with women?

Once the waitress brought their drinks and were alone again, Detective Jeffers cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “To answer your unspoken question, Ms. Whitson, no we haven’t gotten any closer to finding your friend.”

“If you have nothing new, then why did you want to meet with us?” Abigail asked, her irritation with Luke spilling over to the policeman.

“Simple, sweetheart,” Luke said, sliding his arm onto the back of the booth, once more giving the illusion that they were a couple. “Jeffers wanted to make sure we hadn’t left town.”

Jeffers shrugged. “I was hoping that after a night’s rest you could give me some more information.”

“I told you everything I knew last night. I have nothing to hide.” Which wasn’t the truth. While she’d answered his questions honestly, she’d kept her suspicions from him. Luke knowing them was problem enough.

“I understand you’ve been friends with Miss Mathews for quite some time.”

“Yes, since childhood.” She took a drink of water and filled him in on meeting Brianna at the orphanage and the years of their friendship.

“You’ve remained close? Even after college?”

“We went in different directions after school, but doesn’t everyone? She went into the corporate world and I found work with the government.” She gave a little shrug, not liking the twinge of guilt that nibbled at her brain. Even though they’d talked several times a month by phone or internet, she and Brianna had drifted apart more the last year or so. She should’ve kept in closer contact, known more about what was going on in her friend’s life.

Their waitress returned, saving her momentarily from further questions. While they dug into their food, Luke and Jeffers chatted amiably about baseball and the Indians’ chances this year against the rest of their division. Despite how good her sandwich tasted, Abigail picked at her food, idly listening to the two men.

What was it about men and sports? A woman is missing and they can focus on the earned run averages of starting pitching as if there were no crisis going on. Of course they didn’t know Brianna, hadn’t held her hand after they’d both had their tonsils removed, hadn’t stayed up and listened to her heartache when her first college boyfriend dumped her.

Burning started behind her eyes and in her nose. Abigail set her Rueben back on the plate then clutched her linen napkin in her lap with both hands, biting her upper lip and staring out the window, willing the tears to stop. She was a professional. She shouldn’t be crying in public.

“Hey, come here, sweetheart,” Luke said as he draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into the side of his body.

It was an act for the detective, keeping him thinking they were a couple, but she couldn’t help how good being held and comforted against Luke’s strong warm body made her feel. Even with her eyes closed tight, tears slipped out to slide down her cheeks, but after a few minutes, she’d managed to get her control back. With a little sigh, she dabbed at her eyes with the napkin and blinked back the remnants of her tears.