Page 22 of The Killer She Knew

Had it really been this morning? Time wanted to convince her she’d been in these halls for days. Thunder rumbled and shook through the building. The storm was getting closer. Cutting them off even more.

“Think so highly or yourself, do you?” Ford closed the last couple of inches between them. Into her personal space.

She caught hints of his aftershave, mixed with the scent of rain and something cleaner. Soap? How had he managed to keep himself from sweating to death in his suit as she had? She was probably dehydrated. That was what this was. She wasn’t thinking clearly, letting him get too close. “I’m just telling you what I see.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he said. “About any of it.”

Her breath hitched as he leaned in. “I know?—”

His mouth was on hers. Sliding over her bottom lip in an even rhythm. He was doing it on purpose. Giving her the pattern she needed to predict his next move. The consideration intensified the heat burning through her, and a falling sensation tore through her. Weightless and heavy all at the same time. His lips were softer than they’d looked, and now the tension was bleeding out of his shoulders. Melting. Ford penetrated the seam of her mouth with his tongue, holding her up through sheer strength. He tasted of dark chocolate and something brighter. Oranges. No breakfast of champions, but she would take it. Any of it. It’d been too damn long since she’d allowed herself this small feeling.

Since she’d had a single glimpse at hope. Connection.

Leigh kissed him back, pressed him against the wall at his back, memorizing with her hands. Ford’s fingers speared into her hair, holding her as a willing hostage. She wanted this. She needed this. And after everything she’d survived in the past year—everything she’d lost—she deserved something for herself. Didn’t she?

But it wasn’t just her anymore. Ava. She couldn’t start a new relationship while struggling to get a grip on raising a fifteen-year-old. Leigh pulled away, setting herself back onto the four corners of her feet. Ford’s hold strengthened on her hips, and she forced herself out of his reach, swiping at her mouth. “That shouldn’t have happened.”

“Don’t say it was a mistake, Leigh,” Ford said. “It wasn’t.”

No. It wasn’t. It was… perfect. “I have a lot going on in my life at the moment. Ava is… making my life hell, and I need to consider?—”

Movement caught her attention.

Ava stepped into the pool of light put off by Ford’s phone. Tears in her eyes. Then ran.

FOURTEEN

Durham, New Hampshire

Wednesday, October 9

6:05 p.m.

Making her life hell.

“Ava, wait!” Leigh shoved away from the marshal and ran after her adopted daughter. But she wasn’t fast enough. “I didn’t mean that!”

Ava’s wiry frame merged with the shadows closing in from the narrow corridor, and then she was gone.

Dragging her phone from her blazer—still damp in spots—Leigh hit the flashlight feature. There were over a dozen classrooms Ava could’ve disappeared into in the past few seconds. Her heart rate drowned out any chance of hearing shuffling footsteps or sobs. She had to calm down. Had to think about this rationally.

“Leigh.” Ford was on her heels, adding his phone’s flashlight to hers. “I’ll start searching the classrooms. You see if she made it back to the lobby.”

Okay. She could do that. “Message me if you find her. Please.”

She didn’t want to screw this up, but she couldn’t see a way back either. She’d had a hope things would get better between them. Maybe they had the past few hours, but now… Ava had clawed her way into Leigh’s life and seemed just as determined to claw her way out. Their union wasn’t a typical adoption case. Ava had come to her through violence and trauma and secrets and murder. Leigh had always known it wouldn’t be a smooth transition—for either of them—but now she didn’t know what to do. Why couldn’t she be like her own mother? Where was the unlimited patience, the emotional intelligence, and ability to smile through the hard times?

Leigh jogged back toward Thompson Hall’s lobby. Students were beginning to settle in for the night against the walls and on benches with their coats. The stab of rain pelted against the lobby door glass and windows, turning the two-story chamber into a prison. She targeted the first student she saw. “Have you seen a girl run through here? Brown hair, about five-foot-five?”

The woman shook her head. “No, sorry.”

She caught sight of the group of five Ava had spent the past few hours with. Panic welled in her chest. This. This was what being a mother felt like. Every time her adopted daughter had taken off in the middle of the night or refused to come home from school, this feeling threatened to crush her. Until all Leigh could do was live in it. Become it. She grabbed on to one of the group’s members. “Have you seen Ava? She must’ve run through here.”

Tension thickened under her touch, the poor guy’s eyes widening. “Last we saw her, she was looking for someone.”

For Leigh. Nausea churned in her gut, harsh and acidic.

“I’ve searched all of the classrooms.” Ford appeared at her side in the blink of an eye. Impossible for someone his size. Ormaybe Leigh really was that blinded by worry. “There isn’t any sign of her.”

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