Hidden - Laura Griffin Page 0,7

girls climbing into a pedicab.

Bailey turned around, and Jacob was watching the scene. She tried to guess what he was thinking. Was he wondering whether each of those people was going to make it safely home tonight? After years as a cop, was he able to see people out having fun without thinking of all the ways things could go wrong in a heartbeat?

There was no way he could do his job without becoming at least a little jaded. Her job was like that, too, and she felt an odd connection with him.

“It was weird being there today,” she said.

“Being where?”

“The lake.” She cleared her throat. “I’m down there almost every day. Seeing the ME’s van pull up . . .” She shook her head, and Jacob’s brow furrowed with concern.

His phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket, glancing at the screen before answering. “Hey, what’s up?” he said, turning so she couldn’t eavesdrop.

Bailey watched him, and she had the distinct impression he was talking to a woman. She didn’t know why, or why it would matter one way or another.

“Okay.” He glanced at Bailey, his expression grim. “I’ll be there.” He ended the call and stood up. “I need to go. Where are you parked?”

“Go ahead. I’m fine.”

“Where are you parked?”

She sighed. “Just down the block.”

They pitched their trash and headed back without talking, and Bailey stopped beside her car.

He pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it over, surprising her. Maybe she’d made some progress after all.

“My cell’s on the back,” he said. “And if you go to the lake, be careful.”

“Always am.”

“I mean it.”

His sharp tone startled her, and she tried to read the look in his eyes.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it? What happened to her? That’s what you’re telling me,” she said.

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Yes, you are.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then gave a slight nod. “Just be careful.”

* * *

* * *

JACOB DROVE WITH his windows down, letting in the humid air and the street noise. The bars were closing soon, and people lined the sidewalks, flagging down taxis and Ubers and heading to parking lots to retrieve cars. He made his way through downtown and turned onto Cesar Chavez Street, which paralleled the lake. The storms had cleared, and through the trees he saw moonlight glittering off the water. It looked pretty. Peaceful, even. And most people didn’t know that just hours ago a woman’s brutalized body had been recovered from this same lake.

The sign for Jay’s Juice Bar came into view. The parking lot was empty, as he’d expected, and he swung into the lot. His headlights swept over the wooden shack and the dumpster beside it. He cut the engine and sat for a moment, looking and listening as the smell of garbage drifted over.

Jacob ran through his fact base. No ID, no wallet, no phone. No keys of any kind. No witnesses, either, and thanks to a combination of rain and lake water, they had shit in terms of trace evidence. Any footprints or drag marks they might have found had washed away.

The main evidence was the body itself, and Jacob was counting on the medical examiner to make sense of it. Normally he dreaded the ME’s office, but he was so desperate for answers right now, he was actually looking forward to tomorrow’s autopsy—which showed how fucked up his perspective had gotten.

He grabbed the Maglite from the console and got out, closing his door with a soft click. He turned the beam to high and swept it over the corners of the parking lot.

People sometimes park there and use the cut-through.

Bailey’s words came back to him, and he pictured her at that picnic table, slurping on her Coke. He should have known she’d go back and talk to the juice bar attendant. This case was shaping up to be a mess, and now he had Bailey Rhoads to deal with, with her plump mouth and her silver toe ring and her razor-sharp questions. He never should have given her an interview. Not that he’d revealed much, but still. She’d penetrated his defenses once, and he had no doubt she’d try to do it again.

Jacob aimed his flashlight at the sign posted on the chain-link fence: RESTAURANT PARKING ONLY. VIOLATORS WILL BE TOWED.

Had the victim parked here and used the shortcut? Maybe someone had followed her, killed her, and then stolen her keys and her car?

But this didn’t feel like a car

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