Page 13 of Cold Case Murder Mystery

“Wait,” he ordered.Not a North Star mission,remember?He scowled. Maybe it wasn’t, and maybe it shouldn’t be, but he was still going to do what it took to keep her safe.

He inspected her car, ignoring the imperious way she watched him, and when he found it, was rattled at how close he had been to missing it. But at the last second, he felt the ridge of something that shouldn’t be there, right under the back door.

Carefully, without damaging the small disk, he removed the piece. He held it up. Studied it in the light. “Tracker.” He took a page out of her book and blew out a slow breath, trying to think through the bright, violent haze of fury. Someone wastrackingher.

He should have seen that coming. He should have known skeletal remains, even if the supposed perpetrator was behind bars, would bring nothing but trouble.

He’dmade the call to bring her in.He’dmade the decision to be hands off and let the Bent County Sheriff’s Department handle it from there.

Andhe’dput her in danger by doing so.

Itburned.

He looked at her, hoping the leaping fury didn’t show in his expression. But she didn’t look at him. She stared at the tracker in his hand.

“Oh,” was all she said. “That’s... not good.”

She was going to give him ananeurism. Not good? Christ. Without a word, he walked over to his truck and fastened the tracker to the bed.

“What are you doing?” Brooke demanded, her voice high-pitched, her expression angry. He didn’t know which part made her angry—the tracker’s existence or him putting it on his truck.

It didn’t matter. One had already happened and she wasn’t about to change his mind on the other.

“They want to track something, they can track me.”

“Zeke,” she said in that soft way that had fooled him into thinking he could have something soft all those years ago.

He’d learned from that. Besides, after all this time, she wasn’t worried abouthim. She was just worried in that way she had. She didn’t ever want anyone going through any trouble for her. Even when she should.

“I can take care of myself, Brooke.”

She nodded. “Yes, you always thought so.”

Ouch. He brought a hand to his heart with half a thought to rub the pain there away. But she was watching him intently, so he stood still and motionless.

“Can I go now?” she asked archly.

He gestured her along. “Have at it.” But he watched her as she gave Viola a pat and quietly apologized to thedogthat she wasn’t allowed to come with her. Once Brooke was in her car, he whistled and Viola reluctantly padded back over to him.

Brooke drove away, and he didn’t bother to hide his scowl. He gave one last scan of the parking lot, the diner, the road. Then got back in his truck, Viola in tow, and set about following her himself.

So no one else did.

Chapter Five

Brooke hated being distracted at work. It was rare she couldn’t turn off her thoughts and focus on the task at hand—she’d always been good at losing herself insomethingto avoid her unpleasant reality.

It should have been easy. It wasn’t like she was alone in the cave. There was always a deputy or detective stationed with her, so she didn’t have to worry about her surroundings or being interrupted. She showed up, set out her tools, and got to work. They handled everything else until it was time for a break or time to quit.

Today, she couldn’t seem to turn off the outside. The tracker Zeke had found had shaken her up, and maybe she could have set that aside, but thoughts of the device meant also thoughts of Zeke.

She rolled her eyes. To be unsettled by amanas athreatwas ridiculous and made her ashamed. She needed a new approach. Instead of denial, maybe she needed to try acceptance.

Zeke would be a problem until this was done, and she had a lot of work to do. Apparently, she couldn’t just ignore her reaction to him, even for a few hours.

But then, whatwasshe supposed to do about him?

She rolled her shoulders and refocused on her current task.

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