Page 21 of Mine to Protect

Chandler’s light brown eyes narrowed and flicked to where my index fingers fidgeted with my thumbs’ cuticles.

“Right.” His assessing expression morphed into a cocky smile. “I get it. Not many women get the opportunity to see someone like me up close.” He contracted his abs, making them ripple down his stomach, and flexed his biceps.

Thankful for the humor he inserted into the awkward moment, I offered him a small smile in return. “I’ve seen better.”

Chandler’s smile fell as he stuck out his lower lip in a full-on pout. “No such thing.”

I rub my hands up and down my arms. “Aren’t you cold?”

“Freezing. Pretty sure I’ll never see my nuts again.”

With a half nervous laugh, half giggle, I shuffled around him into the cabin. The empty cabin. Disappointment stifled my earlier nervous energy, taking a bit of excitement out of the day. Searching the room, I eyed the files stacked on top of the small kitchen table.

“Those the files from the Smokies cases?” I jerked my chin toward the table.

Chandler glanced across the room. “Yep. The special agent's notes are there, but the pictures are on the iPad. Go ahead and dig in while I get some clothes on.”

The second his bedroom door clicked closed, I moved back toward the front door. Once, twice, and a third time, I snapped the deadbolt in place. With the cabin secure, I moved to the next order of business—heat.

Kneeling at the fireplace, I tossed a couple more logs on the poorly lit fire and moved the coals around, giving it the attention it needed. After a minute, flames glowed and heat poured into the chilled room.

Shifting to the table, I sat in one of the four wooden chairs and flipped through the various folders until I came to the one labeled with the earliest date. A couple sentences in, a chill raked down my spine. With a huff, I scooped up the files to read by the now-roaring fire.

“You want some coffee?” Chandler asked as he stepped barefoot from his room. Involuntarily my eyes flicked to the other closed bedroom door. “Birdie?”

Shaking off the unwelcome thought that Cas was avoiding me by hiding in his room, I shook my head. “No thank you. I’m not a coffee fan.”

“You’re kidding me. You sure? Didn’t you work all night?”

Ignoring his surprise at my disdain for the black oil most people drank in the morning, I fluffed a pillow to offer a bit of cushion against the hearth. “I’m used to running on little sleep.” Leaning back, I raised both knees and laid the file against them like a makeshift desk. “Hope you don’t mind me shifting things around to get comfortable down here by the fire.”

“Not at all, but”—he grimaced as he gave me a once-over—“you know you don’t have to wear your uniform when we’re here, right?”

Through my lashes, I glanced up to find him in the kitchen opening and shutting cabinets. He wore a black, short-sleeve T-shirt and gray athletic shorts. Okay, maybe all guys were hot natured. I was in pants, a jacket, and sitting up close and personal to a fire and was still a bit chilled.

“Next time,” I said, then looked back to the papers resting against my thighs. “I picked up the first case. Have you read through them all?”

“I have. Take your time. We can discuss when you’re done.”

I tried to focus, I really did, but the words blurred as my mind drifted. With a sigh, I shoved the heels of my palms into my eyes and rubbed. “Where’s your partner?”

At his non-response, I glanced up. Chandler had paused whatever he was doing in the kitchen to face me, smiling. “Reading.”

“Reading what?” I snuck another peek at the closed bedroom door.

“Some paperwork I gave him to look over. What, am I not enough?”

Paperwork? What paperwork? Sounded made up. With a long sigh, I shifted my eyes back to the file. “Just wondering,” I mumbled under my breath, hoping that would help hide the lie.

“Right, Birdie. Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

* * *

Two hoursand four case files later, my eyes burned, my back ached from sitting on the floor too long, and I had absolutelynothingto show for it. Each case had the exact same MO with different names and locations. In each one, the husband and kids had left the wife behind and when they returned, she was gone, vanished into thin air. Not a single person reported seeing anything suspicious, and zero evidence was left behind.

I groaned and lay down on the floor to stretch out my aching back, staring at the ceiling. “There isn’t anything useful in these notes,” I vented while smacking the file folder against my forehead.

“There has to be something we’re missing,” Chandler said from the kitchen table. He was on his second pot of coffee, looking just as frustrated as me. His short blond hair was a mess from running his fingers through it with every turn of the page.

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