Page 103 of Girl Between
As Dana watched George fade into the fray, a stab of loneliness hit her. Jake’s absence loomed over her more than ever. Maybe she’d been foolish to think she could work a case without him.
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Dana satin the shaded courtyard of Café Beignet, which conveniently backed up to the police precinct. The rain had washed away the fine dusting of powdered sugar that normally covered the green cast-iron bistro tables and chairs. But still, the air smelled sweet despite the bitterness of her mood.
Through the thick boughs of the magnolia tree Dana sat under, she could see Agent Creed briefing the press on the precinct steps. George stood stoically behind him.
She and George were supposed to be on their way to speak to Elizabeth Barton’s mother, but when Creed commandeered him for the press conference, Lena suggested Dana join her for something to eat besides the stale donuts in the precinct break room.
“It was worth a try,” Lena said as she stabbed her red beans and rice with a black plastic fork.
“There has to be a more accurate way to run the search,” Dana mused as she took another sip of her iced café au lait.
George was right. The Royal Street Café Beignet was better than Café du Monde. At least here they had more to offer than fried dough. Dana ordered a salad but was too distracted to enjoy it thanks to Creed’s brush off.
He’d patronizingly assured her that they were looking into the organ trade angle. Thanks to her persistence, he’d actually humored her request for a TNC search of medical schools. When it didn’t change the suspect pool, he’d implied she stick to her day job and leave the rest to his team of professional profilers.
Normally, she would’ve taken a comment like that in stride, but Jake wasn’t being dramatic when he’d said Creed was ushering in a new regime. The new group of young tech-savvy agents did little to inspire her confidence when it came to profiling. It was an art form of reading human behavior developed over time and in the field. Neither of which the fresh-faced batch of BAU profilers could have honed.
It wasn’t that Dana was particularly gifted when it came to human interaction, but being an awkward outsider had its perks. She’d spent a lifetime learning how to be invisible, which gave her unique observation skills.
Plus, cracking four of the FBI’s most high-profile cases in the past five years built her instincts and confidence. Both of which were telling her she was right about her hunches. What she hadn’t expected was the skewed results of the TNC search thanks to every endocrinology and neuroscience program worth its salt still citing the antiquated procedure in their reference material.
“What about Landry?” Dana asked. “Where did he go to medical school?”
Lena shrugged. “Not sure actually. I think it was somewhere up north.”
Dana desperately tried to recall the diplomas she’d glanced at his clinic. “Landry’s not from here?”
“No. His wife was though. That’s why they settled here to start their family and medical practice.” Lena shook her head. “It’s so sad. I don’t know if I’d have the strength to go on the way he has.”
“Don’t tell me you’re a Saint Landry fan, too?”
Lena’s pierced eyebrow rose. “I’m guessing you’re not.”
“I didn’t say that,” Dana argued, but Lena only laughed.
“Then you forgot to tell your face.”
Dana schooled her features. “Sorry. Bad habit. I’m used to spending more time around the dead than the living. They don’t judge my facial expressions.”
“Amen to that!” Lena grinned and leaned closer. “Some days I think it’s the best perk of the job. Well, that and free air conditioning. Sometimes, in the dead of summer, I sleep in the morgue just to stay cool. Though don’t go spreading that around. My dating profile is dismal enough.”
Dana mimed locking her lips.
“Speaking of dating,” Lena hedged. “What’s going on with you and Det. George?”
It was Dana’s turn to laugh. “Nothing, though not for his lack of effort.”
“Be careful with him,” Lena warned. “Vince may act like a flirty playboy, but it’s a front he puts on to keep himself from getting hurt again.”
“Again?”’
“Yeah, after Sophie.” Lena sighed, “It’s not like it’s a secret, but he doesn’t like talking about it.”
“Okay,” Dana leaned in, waiting for her to elaborate.
“His fiancée Sophie died a while back. Leukemia. Diagnosed right after he enlisted. She kept it from him. After the diagnosis her health went downhill pretty fast.” Lena sighed again, her eyes glassy with emotion. “They were high school sweethearts. He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. After that, he just kinda closed himself off. Doesn’t date, doesn’t do anything other than work, really. But I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I haven’t seen that since Sophie,” she said wistfully.
