For the Right Reasons

“She must be your first, then.”

“First and only. I don’t see how people do it, the ones who have half a dozen, I mean. I worry about her all the time.”

“I guess you figure it out as you go along.” She sounded wistful.

He knew it was harder for women, doing the whole husband-and-kids thing when you had a high-pressure career. He’d heard enough of his female attorney colleagues say so, anyway. Tammy’d had a career as a bookkeeper before MacKenzie. After the baby came, she’d insisted there was no way she could work and be a proper wife and mother, and Eric had never pushed her to. They’d done okay on his income. If he’d known she was putting MacKenzie in day care so she could carry on with the guy from her coupon club—

No, he couldn’t think about that.

“Turn left at this next stop sign,” Bree said. “It’s the second house on the right. She lives in the apartment over the garage.”

It seemed a cheerful enough neighborhood, with lots of pecan trees and picket fences. Eric pulled his car to the curb and stopped.

“Where are we going, Daddy?” MacKenzie asked. He’d thought maybe after her dinner and ice cream, she’d go right to sleep.

“Just a quick stop. Then we’ll head home.”

“Who lives here?” she asked as Eric helped her out of the car seat.

“A friend of Bree’s.”

The three of them walked up a set of wooden stairs lined with clay pots overflowing with pansies. A light was on inside, but that didn’t necessarily mean Philomene was home. People often left their lights on to foil burglars.

Bree knocked sharply on the door. “Philomene? It’s Bree. I’m just checking to see if you’re okay. Did you forget our meeting?”

No one answered. But Eric heard someone moving inside.

“Did you hear that?” Bree asked in a low voice.

“Clearly she doesn’t want visitors.”

Of course, Bree was too persistent to just give up. She tried the latch, which wasn’t locked. She opened the door a crack. “Philomene? I’m coming in, okay? I just want to make sure you’re all right.” She turned to Eric and whispered, “I mean, what if she’s sick or hurt or something?”

Unlikely, unless cold feet could be considered an injury.

Bree knocked one more time. “I don’t think she would normally leave her door unlocked at night. I’m going in.” She pushed her way inside.

It was a tiny apartment—just a combined living/dining room and a galley kitchen separated by a half wall. A single door probably led to the bedroom.

“This looks a lot like the place I lived in college,” Eric said. “With two other guys.”

Bree wasn’t up for chitchat. “I know I heard someone in here.” She crossed the living room toward the kitchen and peeked behind the half wall. Eric was right behind her, gripping MacKenzie’s hand. He suddenly had a bad feeling they shouldn’t be here. Just because the door was unlocked didn’t mean they had the right to barge in.

“We should leave,” he said just as someone burst out of the bedroom and streaked past them, straight out the front door.

“Hey!” Eric yelled, a purely reflexive outburst. The last thing he really wanted was for the guy to stop, not when Eric had his six-year-old daughter with him.

MacKenzie squeaked in surprise and Bree whirled around. “Who was that? Was it Philomene?”

“Definitely not, unless Philomene resembles a large male wearing overalls.”

Bree shook her head and walked to the door to look out. The guy’s footsteps had long since faded; he’d beat it out of there pretty damn fast.

“Does Philomene have a roommate or boyfriend?” Eric asked.

“No roommate. I don’t know about boyfriends. But whoever that guy was, he wouldn’t have run like that if he was supposed to be here.”

Bree walked over to the bedroom door and stuck her head in, then checked the bathroom. “She’s not here. Eric, did you get a good look at the intruder?”

“No. Just his general size and coloring, but he rushed past so fast. Look, Bree, I must have been insane to come here with my little girl. We have to go—now.”

“But Philomene might be in trouble.”

“That sounds like a matter for the police.” Eric was already heading for the door. He needed to get MacKenzie home, tucked in safe and far, far away from anything that smacked of “trouble.”

“The police. That’s a joke,” Bree muttered as she followed Eric out. “Tuckerville doesn’t even have its own police force. We rely on the Becker County Sheriff’s Department. They wouldn’t stir themselves to look for a missing woman.”

“Most law enforcement won’t search for a missing adult unless there’s clear evidence of foul play. Because ninety-nine percent of missing adults are missing because they want to be.”

“What about that one percent?”

“I’m sure she’ll turn up.” Was he? They’d interrupted a possible crime, and Eric’s bad feeling hadn’t gone away. But his job wasn’t to investigate missing persons.

They rode in silence back to the café’s parking lot. Finally, when Eric stopped to let Bree out, she spoke. “I’m sorry you came all this way for nothing.”

“Not nothing. That was awfully good meat loaf.”

“I don’t suppose you’d come back if I set up another meeting.... No, I can see it in your eyes. You’ve already been more than reasonable, and... Never mind. It’s not your problem. Have a safe drive home. MacKenzie?” Bree’s demeanor changed dramatically when she addressed his daughter. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

MacKenzie actually smiled. Then she said in a tiny voice, “I hope you find your friend.”

“Me, too, kiddo.”

Eric was touched. He’d thought MacKenzie would tune them out the way kids did when they weren’t interested in adult conversation, which they usually weren’t. But apparently she’d been paying attention, and she’d overcome her initial shyness to express compassion for someone else. She was an amazing kid.

With more empathy than her father, apparently. He felt guilty for not showing more concern for Philomene. He felt a sudden urge to reverse himself and tell Bree he would do whatever it took to locate Philomene and make sure she was safe, that he would listen, that he would look into Kelly Ralston’s case and see that justice was being served.

But Bree was already gone.

CHAPTER FOUR

BREE HAD NEVER thought of herself as a stalker. But she’d tried calling Eric Riggs three times and hadn’t been able to get through. She was not going to give up easily, however. Not when a woman’s life was at stake. So here she was, lurking outside the Project Justice offices, waiting for someone to exit.

She had known better than to actually go inside and face the Dragon Lady, Celeste. Celeste was the one who had repeatedly foiled Bree’s efforts to speak with Eric.

When someone finally did exit the building, it was the young blonde woman she’d seen on her first visit, the one who had interrupted what she must have thought was some kind of romantic tryst.

“Excuse me, Jillian?”