Page 81 of High Density

While I fix us a couple of mugs, JD grabs two plates and loads up the fried pastry. Then we sit down at the kitchen table.

“This looks delicious.”

I pick up a piece and sink my teeth into the sweet, crispy dough. Unfortunately, that is the moment I glance to the front window and see a black SUV pulling up in front of the house. A sheriff’s cruiser is right behind it.

“We’ve got company,” I mumble around the bite in my mouth.

I’m already on my feet when JD swings around and catches wind of what’s going on. I have the front door open when Special Agent Kramer and Sheriff Ewing walk up.

“Sorry for the early hour,” Stephanie apologizes.

“We were up.” I step to the side to let them in, noticing the serious expression they’re both wearing. “Did something happen?”

JD, who followed me to the front door, wraps his arm around my waist and tugs me to his side.

“Sheriff Ewing has requested my assistance on the murder cases of Maggie Aldridge, Jennifer Wilson, and Lacey Del Franco,” the FBI agent clarifies. “There have been some new developments, which is why we’re here.”

“I’m not sure how much help I can be,” I offer. “I only met Lacey briefly and I didn’t know the other two women.”

“There’s another woman missing,” Sheriff Ewing informs us.

“Another one?”

He nods at me, before looking at JD. “Britt Jensen.”

I feel JD’s body go rigid beside me.

“She’s a waitress and disappeared in the middle of her shift at Foxy’s Bar last night,” Stephanie fills in.

Foxy’s Bar?

Britt.

I immediately have a vision of the pretty brunette server hopping up in JD’s arms. Hard to believe that was just a little over a month ago. It feels a lot longer, so much has happened. So much has changed.

“Britt?” he echoes, clearly stunned.

“Her purse was still behind the bar and her car parked in the parking lot,” the agent continues. “She was seen slipping out the back around eleven, presumably for a smoke, but never returned. It was busy last night, but no one saw a thing.”

“You know her?” Ewing addresses JD.

“I do,” he admits, and I instinctively slip an arm around his waist, holding on tight.

“We were told you’re seeing each other.”

“Were,” JD clips. “And seeing each other implies a relationship, which it never was. We’d hooked up a few times, that’s all. And that was a while ago.”

“Are you sure?” the agent questions, taking over for Sheriff Ewing. “The bartender saw you two kissing just last month.”

“She was kissing me,” he argues. “There’s a difference.”

My head is spinning, trying to keep up with what is happening. Are they seriously suspecting JD? That’s ridiculous.

“Look,” I interrupt, positioning myself in front of JD. “I don’t know what you are getting at, but he was with me. All night. You are barking up the wrong tree. He had nothing to do with her disappearance.”

The look I get from Stephanie is one of pity, and I don’t like it one bit.

“Are you positive he couldn’t have slipped out at some point during the night?”

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