Page 23 of Montana Manhunt

“If I want answers, I’ll have to be.”

He helped her to the asphalt and threaded his fingers through hers. “We want information. That means we have to appear to have faith in local law enforcement.”

“I can act with the best of them, Noah. Let’s do this so we can start our own investigation.” She drew in a ragged breath. “I also need to see Cami,” she murmured.

“We’ll work on that, all right? First, though, we’ll see what the detectives know or will share.”

Violet scowled. “They won’t share anything with me.”

“Maybe not. But it’s not a problem. We have a secret weapon in our corner.”

“We do?”

“Think about it. Who can get any information if it’s on a computer?”

She relaxed. “Zane.”

“That’s right. We’ll get the information, Violet. If the local cops can’t get the job done, we will. For now, you need to play the long game.”

“Don’t make an enemy out of them.”

“You got it.” Noah bent and brushed his mouth over hers, as much to comfort Violet as to stake his claim in front of the cops watching them from the headquarters building.

He broke the kiss a moment later and wrapped his hand around hers. “Let’s do this.”

In the building's lobby, the desk sergeant stared at them with suspicion in his eyes. “Help you?” he said gruffly.

“We need to speak to the detectives in charge of Camilla Trevelyan’s case.”

“Name?”

“Noah Mann. This is Camilla’s sister, Violet Trevelyan. These are our friends, Grant and Rayne.”

The animosity in the sergeant’s eyes shifted to pity in the blink of an eye. “Sorry about your loss, ma’am,” he murmured.

“Thanks.” Violet squeezed Noah’s hand tighter.

“Take a seat. I’ll see if the detectives are in yet.”

Noah escorted Violet to plastic chairs lined up like soldiers against the wall. Although he’d love nothing more than to wrap his arms around his woman and comfort her, no way would he make Violet seem weak. Artemis’ medic was one of the strongest people he’d met, and that was saying something since he’d worked with the toughest Special Forces soldiers ever trained by the military.

Violet clamped down on his hand, the only sign of her distress. Outwardly, she appeared to be calm and in control.

A plain-clothes detective walked into the lobby and headed for the desk sergeant. After a short, low-voiced conversation, the man turned toward Noah and the others.

Noah and Grant stood and helped Violet and Rayne to their feet.

“I’m Detective John Ellis.” He held out his hand to Noah.

“Noah Mann. This is my girlfriend, Violet Trevelyan.”

“Yes,” the other man murmured. “The resemblance is remarkable.” He shook Violet’s hand. “I’m sorry about the loss of your sister, Ms. Trevelyan.”

Before she could respond, he introduced himself to Grant and Rayne. “The bullpen is crazy today. One of our interrogation rooms is empty, though. Let’s go sit in there so we can talk.”

Ellis led the couples through the bullpen and down a long hall to a door marked with the letter C. He opened the door and waved the rest of them through to a room with a wooden table and four chairs. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered. The detective returned a moment later with two more chairs. “Can I get you anything? Soft drink, coffee, water?”

“Bottled water for all of us,” Grant said. “Sealed. No offense intended.”

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