Page 8 of Bad Mother

She and Kat had gone to the Emerald Isle Hotel and Casino, Sienna’s nerves vibrating, but they hadn’t caught a glimpse of Gavin Decker. She’d tried to prepare herself in case something within the establishment would prompt them to speak with security, but thathadn’t been the case. Therewerea few of the decks of cards for sale that matched the ones that had been placed in the victim’s hand, but when they’d had the manager of the gift shop check her computer, she’d told them that the only four decks purchased over the past three months had been paid for in cash. What were the odds? Sienna rarely paid for anything in cash anymore, and she figured most people were the same. “Not tourists,” Kat had said when she’d voiced the thought aloud. “Tourists always carry cash for trinkets, to tip, et cetera.” Good point, but unfortunate for their case.

They’d left with no leads but no sighting of Gavin Decker, a mixed bag in Sienna’s mind. They’d gone to the Emerald Isle in person because of the connection between the cards and the head of security, but when the lead hadn’t panned out, they’d thought it more efficient to make calls to the other casino gift shops in the area. Several of them carried the cards and were looking into the decks that had been purchased in the last three months using a trackable payment method, but that would take at least a couple of days.

Kat had mentioned talking to Gavin Decker to see if he might have any insight into the cards with the swan design, but that wasn’t immediately necessary. The cards were sold all over the city. If they did decide they’d benefit from posing a few questions to Gavin, Sienna wasn’t sure how she’d handle that. She’d probably have to tell Kat she’d once known him and let Kat take that job. However, if there was any conflict of interest, it was weak. She hadn’t spoken to the man in eleven years.

As Sienna distractedly stuck another fry in her mouth, her gaze hung on a couple at the bar, their heads close together as the man said something and the woman laughed, crossing her legs and flipping her hair. Sienna didn’t have to be a detective to recognize those cues.

She likes you, dude. I hope you’re not a dirtbag.

She focused back on the notes of the case, pulling the copy of the writing found on the victim from the stack before reading it for what felt like the hundredth time. It disturbed her. Who had written it?The killer? Had he planted it in his victim’s waistband to offer a small glimpse into his life? Telling the investigators who would find it that he’d once been an abused child?

Or was it something else entirely? A piece of fiction the perp had written for reasons unknown? Or something, fiction or otherwise, written by someone else entirely—a friend of the victim? Heck, maybe it was something random the woman had picked up on the street that had no connection whatsoever to the crime committed against her.

But that didn’t feel right.

No, this meant something. They just didn’t have enough information yet to figure out what.

Sienna replaced the piece of writing back in the pile, then closed the folder. She needed a good night’s sleep. She needed a clear brain. And hopefully a break in the case would come tomorrow.

After a day of no new leads, the press conference had been their best bet, but there hadn’t been any immediate calls to the station. And so Sienna had headed out after a long, grueling day and, feeling unusually lonely, had decided to stop in this bar on her way home. She supposed she was homesick, even if, in a way, this was her home. Or it had been. But she was a stranger now, and that brought up all sorts of complicated emotions.

Sienna sighed, lowering her head and rubbing the back of her neck absently. But her head lifted when someone sat down in the booth across from her, and shock ricocheted down her spine. Shock and an odd internal stillness, just underneath the surprise.You knew, didn’t you? Somewhere deep inside, you’ve known this was inevitable.She’d felt it like the far-off approach of a train—the horizon empty but the ground trembling faintly beneath her feet. He’d been approaching. All these long years, their collision had somehow been destined.

“Gavin,” she said and was proud of herself for the steadiness of her voice.

“Sienna.” They stared, two strangers who’d once been soul mates. And she’d believed, truly believed in her heart of hearts, thatsoul matewas not a temporary status.

“I turned on the news,” he said softly. “And there you were.”

As if she’d beenunfindablefor the last decade. She looked away. The couple at the bar was gathering their things, leaving together. She brought her gaze back to his and cleared her throat. “What are you doing here?” She swirled her finger in the air, indicating the bar they were sitting in. She didn’t explain anything about her return to Reno. She owed him nothing.

He squinted off behind her, and she took a moment to study him more closely, her eyes doing a quick sweep of his features. He looked older, yes, but he was one of those men who got better with age. Of course he was.

She’d looked him up once a few years ago after several glasses of wine. She’d wanted to prove to herself that she was over him, once and for all. It’d hurt, but she’d survived. He hadn’t been directly in front of her, though, nor in the flesh. She hadn’t been able to see the texture of his skin or smell the woodsy scent of his cologne. This was... harder. And he still hadn’t answered her question.

She’d opened her mouth to ask again when he said, “I went to the station to see you. I saw you leave and followed you here.” He gave her a small, lopsided smile that reminded her of the boy he’d been. But that was also the boy who’d hurt her so profoundly. “I’ve been sitting outside in my car, talking myself out of coming in here,” he admitted.

She did not smile back, tapping her fingers lightly on the table. “I see you were unsuccessful.”

He let out a small chuckle but then went serious. “What are you doing back in Reno, Sienna?”

She shrugged. “I was offered a job.”

He studied her for a few seconds. “That can’t be all there is to it.”

“It isn’t, but it’s also none of your business.”

Something flickered in his expression, but she was too wound up by his unexpected presence to read it. “You’re still angry at me.”

A blast of indignation shot through her veins, and she leaned forward. “I’m notangrywith you, Gavin. Why would I be? I don’t know you. My life and my present circumstances are simply none of your concern.”

He looked at her for a few heavy beats, and then a slow smile spread across his face.

Her brow dipped. “What’s funny?”

“You’re angry with me.”

Sienna exhaled, sitting back and popping a cold fry into her mouth just to give herself something to do. Her jaw didn’t want to work, and she practically swallowed it whole. The asshole liked her anger—it probably fed his ego—and so she’d take it away. “What do you want? A reunion?” she asked after she’d forced the fry down her throat, barely managing not to choke.

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