Page 12 of Cold Case Murder Mystery

“So, what’s the plan for today?” she asked, frustrated she had to clear her throat to speak.

“I’ll take you to your car after you eat. From there, you can go about your day however you like. I’ll be keeping an eye out and doing some investigating of my own.”

She finished her toast, pondered how much she was going to allow. Because she should allowsomeoneto watch out for her. Better safe than sorry, she kept telling herself.

The problem was, Zeke was a different kind of danger. Maybe sheshouldtell the detectives everything and then she wouldn’t have to worry about her reaction to him.

But she thought about being taken off this case. Thought about how many times she’d let things beyond her control rule her life.

She had to be stronger than her feelings.

“And how will you be doing that?” she asked, trying to focus on the task at hand, which wasnother reaction to Zeke.

“Chasing down this silver sedan, for starters. Don’t worry, I’ll stay out of your hair. Then we’ll meet for dinner at the diner. Compare stories, go from there.”

This would not be the first time they’d done that. Him watching out for her. Them comparing stories. That’s what had led to their relationship in the first place. She’d been his North Star assignment when one of her investigations into some remains had led to threats against her.

But North Star didn’t exist anymore. And neither did they.

“This isn’t a North Star mission, Zeke.”

He didn’t say anything for a long, humming moment. A moment in which he looked almost... lost. That was ridiculous, of course. She wasn’t sure Zeke Daniels had beenlosta second in all his life.

Yet, without North Star... She shook away the thought. How he was faring without his favorite coping mechanism wasnoneof her business, and she could not let her mind—or worse, her heart—go back to a place where she believed it was.

“Well, I have to get to the caves,” she said, pushing back from the table. “We should get going.”

Zeke hadn’t said anything else. He’d simply gotten ready, walked with her and Viola to his truck, and then driven into Sunrise to the diner and her car.

If what she said echoed around in his head like an earworm, it wasn’t the first time. Lots of people had pointed out to him that he wasn’t an operative anymore, that North Star didn’t exist, that everything he’d busted his ass for was justgone.

All becausesomepeople had wanted to start “lives.” Why were spouses and babies the be-all and end-all for people? He much preferred living his life on the edge of danger. Solving problems. Uncovering mysteries and stopping bad people from doing terrible things.

The same speech he’d been giving himself for years was getting old, even in the quiet of his own mind.

He pulled his truck into the tiny parking lot of the diner. The morning crowd was dwindling—old ranchers got out and back home early, he’d learned—but a few cars still remained in the lot besides Brooke’s. Not a silver sedan among them.

He studied the surroundings, brooding over the situation. Too vague, not enough details, just Brooke’s feeling that someone was following her.

But one thing he knew about Brooke was that she didn’t jump to conclusions, particularly when it came to her own safety. She was under the impression she could fade into the background if she wanted, that no one paid her much mind.

He snuck a glance at her. She appeared serene, but he saw the way she clutched her hands together in her lap. How stiff and straight her posture was. Howcarefullyshe breathed.

If he thought too much about it, he’d be reminded of howhauntedhe’d been by not waking up beside her after he’d broken things off. How every morning of not hearing those weird deep breathing things she did had sent him into the strangest kind of pain he’d ever experienced. So confusing and all-encompassing that he’d thrown himself into the most dangerous missions he could a few days later.

Over and over again, until North Star was done. Then he’d thrown himself into finding his mother’s murderer—which had been complicated and dangerous enough that Brooke had been easy to keep—mostly—off his mind.

Four years was a long time. He’d figured it was long enough for allthisnot to matter.

Well, he’d been wrong before and would likely be wrong again. Didn’t matter. He had to figure out how todeal. And, above all else, keep her safe.

She got out of the truck and Viola hopped out after her. Brooke turned, concern on her face as she held the passenger door open. “Zeke, I can’t take her around with me. Not to work. Not to my rental.”

He wished she could, but understood. Besides, Brooke wasn’t staying in that rental tonight no matter what she thought. And if she insisted on staying there against all reason, he and Viola would just camp out right outside. “It’s okay. I’ll keep her with me.”

Brooke looked at him slightly askance, like he was full of it, but she didn’t mount an argument. She closed the door and he got out on his side. She was already striding for her car, telling the dog in low tones that she’d have to stay behind.

She reached for her driver’s-side door.

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