Page 37 of Beautifully Ruined
“Work,” I say, teasing her.
She rounds me and slides on my lap, but she’s got on jeans, and I honestly think of banning them, even if she has helped herself to one of my black T-shirts, which is like a dress on her.
T-shirt and no jeans?
Naked?
Or panties so I can peel them off?
“Cade?”
Heat burns in my neck and face, and she traces a line from the neckline of my T-shirt to my lips.
“What were you thinking?”
I lift a brow. “Whether I should just keep you naked, or maybe panties only so I can take them off or work my way in them to finger you stupid. They’re all great options.”
She kisses me and then hooks her arms around my neck. “I guess I did ask.”
“Guess you did.”
She smiles. “So, what are you working on?”
I sigh. “I’m following up on some leads on the girl. But…you said you called her Jean, and I’m guessing you did that because it might have been similar to her name, but you don’t know. It’s something?—”
“It isn’t.” She pulls her arms away and drops her hands in her lap. “I should have asked again, should have asked her important things.”
“It’s fine. We just…we don’t really have a way of identifying her. I’m working on some things, but they’re more a wish and a hope kind of thing. It’s just really difficult tracking her down. Right now, she’s like a ghost.”
It’s a lame attempt at a joke, one I don’t even find remotely funny, but Violet looks so disheartened I needed to do something.
Vi’s eyes suddenly widen. “The hairclip.”
Before I can even ask her what the fuck she’s on about, she pushes off my lap and takes off, racing out of the room, and her feet hit the stairs.
“I don’t think I packed a hairclip.” Then I frown. “She never wears hairclips.”
I almost add hairclip to my search but stop. It’d have to be something so spectacular to show up as hairclips are pretty damn common.
She comes back, holding out a pretty wavy white gold clip. It is as pretty as it is plain. Not anything that people would be talking about, or I could type in to find, like neon orange butterfly hairclip.
Violet looks at it and then me. “I found it in her cell. It’s got to be hers.”
Or the previous occupant’s, but I don’t say it. Besides, I bet they clean it out between occupants.
I just nod. “Could be.”
“I never thought it could be used to help find her, or even just identify her. It’s not cheap, so I’m betting it was a gift. Probably family, Cade.”
She’s jumping to conclusions, but fuck, she could be just as much right as she might be wrong.
“What if her DNA’s on this?”
“Here.” I take it from her and turn it.
My chest tightens.
There are a few strands of golden hair on it, right near the hinge.
