“Nothin’?” Bek asks.

I shake my head and call my brother instead.

“Detective Trent Bond,” he answers, and the sound of shuffling papers come through the line. He sounds distracted, and I guess he is. Since Holly Woods’ police department isn’t big enough to have a team dedicated to missing persons, Sheriff Bates has thrown homicide onto it.

“Hey, do you know why Drake isn’t answering his phone?”

“Huh?”

“Drake. Phone. Not answering,” I repeat.

“Oh.” More shuffling. “Shit. It’s probably that bimbo in his office again. She’s been in there for fifteen minutes.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to finish ten minutes ago?”

“Is it five thirty already?”

“Five forty,” I correct him, annoyance stirring in the pit of my belly. God, that fucking woman.

“Right. Then, yeah. He should have. Want me to get him?” More shuffling.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just come down. Do you mind?”

“Do I mind you turning up while she’s still here? Nah, go ahead. I could use some entertainment.”

“Nice to know that’s all I’m good for.”

“Hey, Brody already told her to get lost twice earlier when she called after Amelia came in. He’s still pissed that Sheriff won’t let him do anything but paperwork.”

“Well, that will happen when you’re recovering from having been shot.”

An incident I still carry an immense amount of guilt over. If I hadn’t insisted on him and Dev helping us check out the house of Natalie, the last murder case in town, my baby brother wouldn’t have had a bullet through his side.

“I’ll let you explain that. Are you comin’ down or what? Drake’s yelling. I think he’s pissed.”

“At Jessica?”

“Unless someone else snuck into his office through the window, yeah.”

Excellent. “See you in five,” I tell Trent, hang up, and throw my phone into my purse along with the few details Carlton, my tech guy, managed to pull on Toni so far.

Bek already left my office, so I slip my feet back into my heels and grab my purse, making sure to lock my office door on the way out. The only person here apart from us is my assistant-slash-receptionist, Grecia, and I throw her a wave as I pass her little office on my way out of the building.

Really, I should have guessed that Jessica is at the station, I think as I get into my car. With the fair officially opening in less than forty-eight hours and Toni still missing with no leads as to where she’s gone, it’s only natural that Jessica would take every opportunity to bug the hell out of Drake for answers.

She’s out of luck though. Despite his request for my help earlier, he refuses to disclose any details about the case. I know as much as everyone else outside of the officers working on finding her. Which really sucks, ’cause I’m pretty damn curious by nature.

Okay, I’m really freaking nosy.

It’s a perk of the job. Or, sometimes, not so much of a perk. Like right now. It’s frustrating. Mostly because Drake knows that, if I knew all the details, I’d be doing some investigating of my own. The only reason I didn’t add a request for Carlton to hack the police server and get me the information is because I’m trying not to ruin my relationship already.

Traffic has picked up in town because of the fair, not to mention that the population has increased by approximately two hundred because of the travelers who run ninety-percent of the fair. There simply aren’t enough businesses in town to sustain a decent enough fair, and besides—where would we stash the rides when they aren’t being used? So it works. The travelers come, and two or three of Holly Woods’ finest establishments set up for a week.

Giovanni’s will be there, likely with Alonso churning out authentic Italian pizzas. Rosie will have a stall for her pies, cupcakes, and fresh lemonade, and Dina White, the owner of the small mystical store we all seem to forget about but somehow manages to draw tourists in, will have one of her own. I’ve never stopped at it, or even into her store, but when I’ve walked past and peeked, she’s always had an array of candles and crystal things and charms laid out.

I don’t know. It’s that whole belief thing I still don’t buy into—never mind that I joined Nonna in prayer after Brody was shot. I would have given anything to see him be okay.

I pull up in the parking lot of the station, and my stomach drops when I see Jessica’s red Mercedes parked next to Drake’s truck. I was hoping she’d have taken her sorry ass away from here by now. With a sigh, I grab my purse and get out of my car.

Charlotte, the station’s receptionist and long-time admirer of Brody, greets me with a grimace. “He’s been yelling for five minutes now. We’re taking bets on how much longer it’ll be before she gets it and leaves. I’ve got my money on fifteen minutes.”

“I’m at ten,” Officer Bailey, a new recruit, pipes up.

“I reckon another thirty or so seconds,” Detective Johnson says.

“You can’t place a bet now that Noelle’s here. We all know it ain’t gonna last much longer.” Charlotte slaps his hand away from the bills on the counter.

I grin. “It’s tempting to join the bet myself. How long does it usually take?”

“Around twenty minutes,” she admits. “But he doesn’t usually start yelling this soon. I think he’s had enough of her. I know I have. She doesn’t even bother asking if he’s available. Just walks right into his office like she owns it, even when he isn’t here.”

The annoyance in my lower tummy fizzles into my bloodstream. God, she’s infuriating. Not even I just stalk into Drake’s office—unless he’s pissed me off, of course. But then all bets are off. That and I think most of the people in this building are willing to face Drake’s wrath if it means they avoid mine.

“Hey, Jon,” I say to Officer Bailey.

He looks up.

“Your bet is about to cash in.”

He punches the air in delight, and I push my bangs from my eyes and stroll toward Drake’s office. Trent catches my eye from his office, and like a little kid, he drops the papers in his hand and runs to his door. Then he leans against the doorframe, grinning, his eyes on me.

I flip him the bird and try the handle on Drake’s door. Oh, fabulous. Everyone loves a locked door. I knock harshly.

“Get out the damn way, Jessica!” he snaps on the other side, and a second later, the lock clicks and he yanks the door open. “What?”

“Hello to you too, honey,” I drawl sarcastically.

I don’t know if he looks relieved to see me or not.

“Sorry,” he replies, rubbing his hand across his face. “Can you give me a minute?”

“Love to,” I reply dryly, “but I can’t. I ordered a pizza on my way over here and I refuse to let you eat cold dinner again because you keep being distracted.”

“Distracted?” Jessica snarls, stepping to the side of Drake. “We’re working, thank you.”

I run my eyes over her, from the obviously tight blouse to the shorter-than-normal skirt. Huh. “Hate to tell you, doll, but dressed like that, the only work you seem to be doing isn’t business you can pick up inside a police station,” I say carefully, looking pointedly at her.

Trent snorts and attempts to cover it with a cough. Drake’s shoulders shake.

“Why you—”

“You what?” I raise an eyebrow when she takes a step forward.

Try it, bitch. I dare you.

That man you’re trying to seduce is mine.

“Ms. Shearer,” Sheriff Bates says from somewhere behind me. “You’re interrupting the good juju in my station. I’m sure anything you have to say to Detective Nash can wait until tomorrow, as you’ve already kept the poor man here way past his shift. Alternatively, take your concerns to Detective Bond and he’ll help you to the best of his ability.”

“The mayor insisted I work with Detective Nash on the security,” she manages through gritted teeth. “As he’s leading the investigation for that missing girl.”