Page 55 of Captive Omega

If he didn’t go to his heat clinic, and he left his car on campus, where did he go?

Garrison returns as I’m flipping through the file for the second time. He has two white mugs. Tea, from the minty scent wafting from one steaming cup, and coffee from the other. Black. Not life-giving strong like Frost was drinking, but strong enough.

“I wasn’t sure what tea you might like. Hope peppermint is okay?” He pushes the mug to the center of the table, close enough for me to take, but doesn’t encroach on my side.

An alpha who respects my personal space.

Hmm.

He returns to his seat as I take a small sip of my tea and set my mug aside to flip through the folder. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“Anything unusual.”

“But I don’t know him. How would I know what is usual for Jerome and what is not?”

The faintest hint of… something filters in his gaze so briefly I nearly miss it. Interest? Pride? Something else.

“What is it?” I ask.

The corners of his mouth tilt up in the barest hint of a smile. “That is a very astute question.”

“Not really,” I deny, hiding my pleasure. Despite Vaughn’s belief I was a straight-A student, I was not. I hated school, and I didn’t try to hide it.

My teachers were in agreement that I was a grade A pain in the ass. I found it boring, though I might have cared more if they taught us something that would be useful when we left. What was the point in learning things I would never need to use?

“Vaughn complained about me setting him homework. All he wanted was to be out rescuing someone or solving a crime.”

I push my tongue into my cheek to hide my smile. “And Blaine?”

“Asked where I was keeping the rest of the info.” His voice is dry. “The answer to your question is we all see something different. I’d like to know what you see.”

As he lifts his mug to his lips, the rich scent of coffee drifts my way. I stifle a shudder when a memory of the last time I drank the stuff hits me between the eyes.

The Keurig broke one day at work and all we had was a big ol’ glass jug of the drip stuff. It also happened to be the day we ran out of caramel creamer. One sip and I will never make that mistake again.

But Henry…

I wrench my mind back to my task.

I focus on the present. The now. And only the now.

“So I just look through this file?” I ask. “Don’t we have to go investigate?”

He shakes his head. “The answer is there.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s like a puzzle. Some pieces fit perfectly together. Others have been wedged in and aren’t right. Sometimes you don’t know it until the end, sometimes before. The answer is there.”

He looks so confident I can’t help but believe him. “So, no physical investigation like ever?”

“Sometimes. Not this time.”

This is turning out to be one of the most interesting conversations I’ve had in my life. “You sound like a cop.”

His smile is faint. “Not a cop, though I once knew a very good one who taught me a lot.”

I realize then how much I hate it when people don’t tell me everything. It makes me crazy to know more. Even things that are probably none of my business. Especially things that are none of my business.

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