And the thrill of moments like this when he steps into a room in which every person is working toward that common goal of saving a life.
And then there is me. I’ve made a career out of writing about kidnappings, victims, and the like. Articles, books. Soon even a movie.
In other words, our trauma has become our art has become our passion. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I do know that it’s our reality. And if there is one thing that I have learned, it’s that you can’t escape reality.
Dallas’s posture shifts, and he cocks his head, his eyes narrowed in question. “Ready?”
“No,” I say, but I move forward anyway, letting him lead me to where Liam has joined the two unfamiliar men, who stand as we approach, the red-haired man yanking off his headphones and tossing them onto the counter so that a faint drumbeat drifts up into the air.
“This is Noah,” Dallas says, as I shake the hand of the man who’d extricated himself from the headphones. “And this is Anthony.”
“Tony,” the dark-haired man corrects, also offering a hand.
I don’t have to ask if these men are good at what they do. Not only do their sharp, competent expressions telegraph as much, but I also know that Dallas wouldn’t work with anyone who isn’t at the top of their game.
“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Noah says, then winces a little. “Well, that you weren’t permanently hurt, I mean. So, you’re here to talk about what you remember from the attack, right? Anything you can think of. We’ve gone door to door already, but the witnesses we’ve located haven’t given us much.
“I’m still hoping to identify the van. We’re still obtaining and analyzing footage from cams between the address and the dump site at Riverside Park,” he adds to Dallas. “I’m not giving up yet, but so far we’ve got shit.”
“Keep on it,” Dallas says.
“Do you remember anything about the driver?” Tony asks me.
“No, I was—”
“Bro, she’s here to talk to Colin, not slide into the hot seat. Not yet, anyway.” The deep voice came from behind me, and I turn to see Liam. He holds out his arms. “So glad to see you up and about, baby girl. You gave us all a scare.”
“Unintentional, I assure you,” I say dryly. I’ve known Liam for almost my whole life, and along with Brody, he’s one of my absolute best friends. His mom was our housekeeper growing up, so he’s been around me and Dallas forever, and we three were an unbreakable trio up until the day Daddy sent Dallas off to London for boarding school.
Frowning, I glance around the room at these men. “It’s not even dawn yet. Don’t you guys ever sleep?”
Liam laughs. “In shifts, yeah. But when Dallas called, I got Noah and Tony out of the crib. I thought you would want to meet them.”
“Definitely,” I say, then smile at the guys. “Sorry to rouse you early.”
“Part and parcel,” Noah says. “Coffee’s fresh and strong if you need it.” He points toward a small kitchenette on the far side of the room, but I only shake my head. Coffee sounds a little too rough right now.
“Where’s Quince?” Dallas asks.
“Just finished a session. Kept increasing the dosage throughout the night, still got nothing. Frankly, he’s a little pissed with himself for pushing too hard. Now he’s got Colin on a saline drip and some counteragents…working the drug out of his system.” Liam glances at his watch. “Not too much longer, I’d think. We figured Jane would want to talk to him with as clear a head as possible.”
“Good.” Dallas turns to me. “He hasn’t said a damn thing yet even with the drugs. You might be more effective than truth serum.”
“Or I might not,” I say. I don’t add that maybe there is nothing for him to confess to. Dallas and the guys are already convinced. And, though I hate admitting it even to myself, their certainty has convinced me as well. Even so, I want to talk to Colin personally.
“Miss Jane.”
And then there is me. I’ve made a career out of writing about kidnappings, victims, and the like. Articles, books. Soon even a movie.
In other words, our trauma has become our art has become our passion. I don’t know if that’s good or bad, but I do know that it’s our reality. And if there is one thing that I have learned, it’s that you can’t escape reality.
Dallas’s posture shifts, and he cocks his head, his eyes narrowed in question. “Ready?”
“No,” I say, but I move forward anyway, letting him lead me to where Liam has joined the two unfamiliar men, who stand as we approach, the red-haired man yanking off his headphones and tossing them onto the counter so that a faint drumbeat drifts up into the air.
“This is Noah,” Dallas says, as I shake the hand of the man who’d extricated himself from the headphones. “And this is Anthony.”
“Tony,” the dark-haired man corrects, also offering a hand.
I don’t have to ask if these men are good at what they do. Not only do their sharp, competent expressions telegraph as much, but I also know that Dallas wouldn’t work with anyone who isn’t at the top of their game.
“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Noah says, then winces a little. “Well, that you weren’t permanently hurt, I mean. So, you’re here to talk about what you remember from the attack, right? Anything you can think of. We’ve gone door to door already, but the witnesses we’ve located haven’t given us much.
“I’m still hoping to identify the van. We’re still obtaining and analyzing footage from cams between the address and the dump site at Riverside Park,” he adds to Dallas. “I’m not giving up yet, but so far we’ve got shit.”
“Keep on it,” Dallas says.
“Do you remember anything about the driver?” Tony asks me.
“No, I was—”
“Bro, she’s here to talk to Colin, not slide into the hot seat. Not yet, anyway.” The deep voice came from behind me, and I turn to see Liam. He holds out his arms. “So glad to see you up and about, baby girl. You gave us all a scare.”
“Unintentional, I assure you,” I say dryly. I’ve known Liam for almost my whole life, and along with Brody, he’s one of my absolute best friends. His mom was our housekeeper growing up, so he’s been around me and Dallas forever, and we three were an unbreakable trio up until the day Daddy sent Dallas off to London for boarding school.
Frowning, I glance around the room at these men. “It’s not even dawn yet. Don’t you guys ever sleep?”
Liam laughs. “In shifts, yeah. But when Dallas called, I got Noah and Tony out of the crib. I thought you would want to meet them.”
“Definitely,” I say, then smile at the guys. “Sorry to rouse you early.”
“Part and parcel,” Noah says. “Coffee’s fresh and strong if you need it.” He points toward a small kitchenette on the far side of the room, but I only shake my head. Coffee sounds a little too rough right now.
“Where’s Quince?” Dallas asks.
“Just finished a session. Kept increasing the dosage throughout the night, still got nothing. Frankly, he’s a little pissed with himself for pushing too hard. Now he’s got Colin on a saline drip and some counteragents…working the drug out of his system.” Liam glances at his watch. “Not too much longer, I’d think. We figured Jane would want to talk to him with as clear a head as possible.”
“Good.” Dallas turns to me. “He hasn’t said a damn thing yet even with the drugs. You might be more effective than truth serum.”
“Or I might not,” I say. I don’t add that maybe there is nothing for him to confess to. Dallas and the guys are already convinced. And, though I hate admitting it even to myself, their certainty has convinced me as well. Even so, I want to talk to Colin personally.
“Miss Jane.”
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