Page 66 of Paternal Instincts
I thought he would tell us to fuck off, but instead, he adjusted his daughter on his lap. “Sweetie,” he said to her, “How about you go back upstairs and stay with Mommy for a bit longer? Daddy is still talking to the police about Crow, but when I’m done, maybe we can color, okay?”
“But Mommy’s gone.”
“What?”
“She left.”
“Left?” I stepped forward, my surprise mirroring Nixon’s.
“W-what do you mean, sweetie?” her dad asked.
“She said she had to get out of here, and she left.”
The incredulity took a second to sink in. When it did, Jordyn and I sprinted from the kitchen and raced upstairs, but the bedroom was empty. Imogen’s silk pajamas lay discarded on her unmade bed.
We split up and searched the entire house, calling Imogen’s name. It was futile. We didn’t find her.
We discovered Nixon peering out the window in the front room with Sparrow on his hip. “Her car is gone, Detective. Sparrow’s right. She left.”
Chapter 16
Quaid
Icalled in an APB on Imogen’s car, and with the help of district police, we searched every possible place we could think of for Imogen. We checked in with her parents, sister, colleagues, and friends. We informed hospitals in case she ended up in labor and explored the list Nixon had provided us of her favorite stores in case she’d simply decided to go shopping.
I messaged Aslan and asked him to pick up Jude and Clementine and bring them to headquarters because I had a hunch one or both of them might be responsible. Nixon and Sparrow remained at the house with Zoey, whom I’d called when the crisis presented and asked her to return.
Where had Imogen gone? And why?
She knew something we didn’t. Was she going to get her son back on her own? Confront the person responsible? If so, who was it? Was she in danger?
Was she responsible for Crowley’s absence?
I slammed a fist against the dash as Jordyn drove. “What are we missing?”
“I wish I knew.”
It was midafternoon when we decided to stop running in circles. Jordyn dropped me off at headquarters, informing me she was heading out again to get food and coffee since we hadn’t stopped all day. “I can’t keep going unless I eat. Maybe you can subsist on coffee, but I can’t. I’m starving.”
“No, you’re right. Get extra. Aslan and Costa will need food, too, I’m sure.” I offered her some cash, but she waved it off. “Meet me in the basement. Jude and Clementine can wait until I see what Costa’s discovered.”
She drove off, and although I intended to head directly into the bowels of headquarters in search of my favorite IT guy and husband, I detoured to a pair of closed interview room doors in the hallway of no-man’s-land. One contained Jude Marigold. The other Clementine Prescott.
I poked my head in the door on my left and found who I was looking for. A terrified-looking redhead strangled a plastic bottle of water. Her wide green eyes met mine, and she stammered, “Am I in some kind of trouble?”
“Clementine Prescott?”
“Yes.” She glanced over my shoulder as I entered alone and shut the door.
I debated the correct course of action, knowing I should wait for Jordyn before chatting with her, but after the conversation with Nixon, I had to satiate my curiosity.
Calm and collected, I crossed to the table and placed my phone in the center, a recording app open. “Do you mind?” I motioned to the device. “For legal purposes. It covers your ass and mine.”
She swallowed and nodded, wringing her hands.
I hit record and covered the preliminaries of an interview, having her state her name and ensuring she understood she wasn’t under arrest.
Remaining standing, ensuring I held a position of power, I stared down at the young woman. “You worked as a nanny for the Davis family, correct?”
