Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,5

had left scars. Not just the physical ones. She rubbed the long jagged one on her left forearm, one of many knife wounds inflicted on her body by Dylan Klein, a man she’d thought loved her. The scars on the inside ran deeper than any inflicted by the sadistic misogynist. It left her doubting her life choices, her manipulative use of people—men and women, but mostly men—and her own judgement.

It also forced her to face the fact that just as she’d used the men in her life for her own means, they’d been using her, too. Which caused her to wonder if she’d really been that smart after all.

“Well,” Flora said from the other side of the room, “even if you’re only friends with that handsome detective, I do like that you go out to lunch with him every week. It’s good for you.”

Flora had a good heart. She cared about people, the homeless on the streets, the clients who came to the shelters, those who moved on and even the people who worked or volunteered at the shelter. And that’s why Brianna mostly overlooked Flora’s efforts to meddle in her life.

“Any word from Paula?” she asked.

Flora peeked around her computer, sadness in her eyes. “No. I’d thought she’d finally gotten her life on track this last year or so. It’s such a shame.”

“We don’t know that she’s using again. We only know she’s not shown up to work today.” Brianna refused to give up on Paula. She’d tried to keep her history of drug use from Aaron when they’d talked earlier, afraid that if he knew she used to be a heroin addict, he might just assume, like Flora, that she’d relapsed and wouldn’t go check on her. But just like always, Aaron had quickly figured it out on his own. Man was detective for a reason. He’d also surprised her with his compassion that wasn’t just in his words and voice but mirrored in his green-grey eyes. Brianna was grateful he’d agreed to go with her, because her gut told her something wasn’t right, and Paula needed help.

3

Aaron stood waiting for her when she pulled up outside the police station. He’d texted her not to park in the underground parking, that he’d be outside. He’d changed out of his business suit into a pair of jeans, a grey Henley shirt and a black hoodie jacket. Even his black wing-tip shoes had been switched for beat up sneakers. The cool wind off Lake Erie whipped at his jacket and ruffled his closely cut dark hair. This relaxed Aaron was a sexier version of the man she called friend. Quickly, she tampered down the sudden hormone surge—something she hadn’t felt in over three years.

After he climbed into the passenger seat, she pulled out into the afternoon traffic on Ontario Street heading south. “Why exactly are we taking my car?”

“You have a sedan. I drive a black SUV that sort of shouts police. The last thing we want to do is draw too much attention to us visiting your friend.” He leaned back as she maneuvered through the streets toward Paula’s address. “Thought it best we go in as two friends rather than a friend and a cop until we know the situation.”

“Same reason you changed clothes? And I thought you were going back to the station, not home.” she said with a quick glance his way.

He gave a half shrug. “Nothing screams cop more than a man in a suit and tie climbing out of an SUV these days. And no, I didn’t go home to change. I keep these in the back of my car just for instances when I want to go into an area without drawing attention to myself.”

Brianna drove east from the main downtown area.

“You’ve been here before?” Aaron asked after a few moments of quiet companionship.

“No, Paula never invited anyone to her home,” Brianna said, tapping the little part of her dashboard above the radio buttons. “I plugged her address into my GPS. I have to confess that geo-navigation isn’t my strong suit. Abby used to say I’d get lost trying to get out of a paper bag.”

A deep rumble came from the passenger’s seat.

Ignoring the noise, she made the turn her computerized map told her. “GPS has saved me hours of driving time. Once I’ve been somewhere, I can find my way home and back again, but that first trip out? Yeah, I’d make all kinds of wrong turns and U-turns. It got so