Operation Blind Date

Chapter 7

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Hayley asked.

Laney looked at the woman who had so quickly become more than just a client since she’d first brought Cutter to her several months ago. She had stopped in just after Laney had opened up this morning, and had obviously talked to Quinn.

“You seemed really distracted yesterday,” she said.

Hayley made a face. “Well, you’re right about that. I’m a wreck about meeting the boss for the first time. Somehow I got it in my head the right clothes would make a difference, make me relax. Didn’t work.”

Laney stifled a laugh, then said, “And I thought Quinn was the boss. Teague said Charlie’s the organization, logistics and money side.”

“Genius burns,” Hayley said wryly.

“And you’ve never met before?”

“No. Charlie’s headquartered in St. Louis, near where they grew up, and prefers to stay there. Quinn’s only here because he loves this part of the country.”

“Well, and you.”

Hayley smiled then, a bright, flashing smile of pure and utter happiness. “Yes. And me.”

Laney felt a stab of...not envy—she liked Hayley too much for that—but perhaps longing. She supposed most women dreamed of having what Hayley had found, a strong, steady man like Quinn who would go to the ends of the earth for her.

And that’s what gets us into trouble, she thought. Like Amber.

“We’ll find her,” Hayley said, accurately reading her thoughts. “I promise. Nobody’s better at this than Foxworth.”

“I didn’t give you much to go on,” Laney said ruefully. She’d spent most of last night trying not to get her hopes up. “I know so little about the guy.”

“We have an amazing research team that can find darn near anything, or anyone. They can look in places most people don’t even know exist.”

“That sounds a bit...something.”

Hayley laughed. “Foxworth’s built up a lot of goodwill in a lot of different places over the years. It pays off.”

“What a strange operation,” Laney said. “You help anybody who needs it?”

“No,” Hayley said. “Not just anybody. People on the high road, who tried to do the right thing in the right way, but ran up against a roadblock they couldn’t get over or around, a block that shouldn’t be there in the first place. Sometimes groups, but individuals mostly, who have fought hard on their own but can’t keep going, financially, physically or emotionally. People fighting decisions made against them for no better reason than political expediency. Or stupidity. The powers that be, or petty tyrants throwing their weight around, or bigger types of corruption. That’s what Foxworth fights.”

Laney couldn’t miss the passion in Hayley’s voice. She might be the most recent to join Foxworth, through Quinn, but she was clearly as dedicated as the rest of them. And if that was truly their cause, she could understand that.

“Sorry,” Hayley said with a smile. “I didn’t mean to launch on you.”

“You don’t have to apologize for believing in what you do,” Laney said, meaning it. “Teague said you worked on referral only, though.”

Hayley nodded. “Word of mouth is the best advertising, and the only kind we rely on. Well, and now Cutter, since he seems to have such a knack.”

Laney laughed. “I still can’t believe Quinn really decided to help me because of what Cutter did.”

“It took us all a while to realize the dog knows what he’s doing. And the Foxworth crew is an unlikely bunch to put their trust in four paws, but they’ve learned he’s usually right.” Hayley shook her head. “Sometimes I think he’s not really a dog, but some magical being in disguise.”

“He certainly communicates better than any dog I’ve ever known.”

“He knows a lot more human than we know dog, that’s for sure,” Hayley agreed with a laugh.

Laney picked at a thread that had worked loose on her shirt. “Teague was very kind.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“He really seemed to understand how I feel. Because of his sister.”

Hayley went still. “He told you about Terri?”

Laney nodded. “How she vanished while he was deployed, and was never found. And how he feels guilty for not being here to protect her. Of course, his parents didn’t help, blaming him.”

For a long, silent moment Hayley just stared at her.

“What?” Laney finally asked.

“Teague,” she said, “never talks to anyone about that. I don’t think even Quinn knows as much as you just said. I certainly didn’t.”

Laney stared in turn. “You didn’t?”

Hayley shook her head. “I knew his sister had disappeared, but I had no idea he felt like that, or worse, that his parents blamed him. No wonder he’s not close to his mother now.”

“I think she was the worst,” Laney said. “I got the idea his father just shut down after.”

Even as she spoke, her mind was racing. She believed Teague never talked about his sister, it would explain the painful sound of his voice. She’d had the feeling then he hadn’t talked about it in a while, but she hadn’t realized “a while” meant never.

And yet he had told her.

It was disconcerting, to say the least.

“Teague is the most cheerful guy I know,” Hayley said. “Always with a quip, the one who lightens the mood. I knew there was another side to him, deeper, but he hides it so well....”

She focused on Laney. And the speculation in her vivid green eyes was hard to miss.

Oh, don’t go there, please!

Her sudden internal recoil startled her. Shouldn’t she be flattered that the guy let down enough to share an awful, painful story? That he felt enough empathy for her, and her situation, to do something he never did, share a part of himself he always kept hidden?

If she was honest, she had to admit she was flattered. Problem was, maybe she was too flattered. Teague was an attractive guy, she’d been alone a long time now, and he came with as much of a guarantee as you could get with a guy these days; the benefit of a thorough background check by Foxworth.

Instead of a casual, thoughtless “he seems like a nice guy, go for it” tossed off by an unthinking friend.

It stabbed at her again, the guilt, sharp and merciless. How on earth had Teague survived this for so long? Hayley said he was the most cheerful guy she knew; how did he do it? Was it just a facade, or had he really found a way to...obviously not forget, but live with it?

“It’s that guy thing,” Hayley said, shaking her out of her thoughts. “Compartmentalization. They really are able to do that, much better than I am, anyway.”

Laney drew back, eyes wide. How had she known exactly what she was thinking? “You are as perceptive as your dog. And I trust you to realize I mean that as a compliment.”

Hayley laughed. “Oh, I know. And it is a compliment, to be compared to that rascal in the perception department, since he’s uncannily good at it.”

Hayley’s cell phone rang, and from her instant smile Laney guessed the lilting, lively bit of music was assigned to Quinn’s calls. She answered, and Laney tactfully turned away, giving her some privacy. But Hayley mostly listened instead of talking. When she finally spoke, it was only to say “I’ll tell her.” Then a pause, an even wider smile, followed by “I love you, too.”

She tucked the phone back into an outside pocket on her bag. Then she turned to face Laney straight on.

“We have a lead,” she said.

* * *

“I can’t believe you guys did this so quickly.”

Teague glanced at Laney, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his SUV once more. They were on their way to SeaTac airport with recent photos of Amber in hand. Quinn was a big believer in HUMINT, human intelligence, or as Teague called it, boots on the ground, a holdover from his corps days. But it was Hayley who had quietly convinced Quinn to add another facet to their approach in non-hazardous situations: letting the involved party participate if that was what they wanted. No one, she said, was as invested in the case as the person themselves, and the urgency and emotion they displayed sometimes nudged people over onto their side, into empathy, by the sheer force of it. It made sense, and Teague had seen it work a couple of times now. He’d already had a lot of respect for Hayley after how she’d handled their actions the night she’d become collateral damage in their operation, and this only added to it.

Laney Adams, he thought, was cut from similar cloth. She might have been crying at first, but not since, and there was a steely determination in her, now that she knew she wasn’t alone. He suspected it would be wise not to underestimate her, now that she had a course set. And she’d made it clear she wanted to be involved every step of the way.

He’d reluctantly volunteered to be the one to pick up Laney. It only made sense, given he was the one who had brought her problem to them. And he didn’t quite understand his own reluctance. He hadn’t been happy about pouring his guts out to her about Terri, but it had seemed necessary at the time. He wasn’t much for looking backward and dwelling on things he couldn’t change, a lesson learned in the hardest of ways with his sister. But he was still uneasy, and if it wouldn’t have been odd enough to draw attention, he would have opted out.

He’d even thought of suggesting Hayley, using the girl thing as an excuse, but Quinn had so obviously assumed he’d want to be handling this one that it made him stop and wonder why he didn’t.

Maybe it was just that this one reminded him too much of Terri. True, Amber was an adult, not a sixteen-year-old girl, and there had been some contact, at least, via the texts, and they had a clue who she might be with....

Yeah, right. Cases are exactly alike, he thought wryly.

That excuse shattered, he wasn’t sure where that left him. Except in the car alone with Laney Adams, who unsettled him far too much. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, that was likely what had him wishing someone else would be doing this. Somewhere along the line he’d turned into a coward, wanting to avoid a situation that made him uncomfortable.

“Teague?”

He’d never answered her, he realized. In fact, he had to think for a second to remember exactly what her words had been.

“Sorry. Thinking.” Don’t ask me about what. “Yes, our guys are good.”

“It helps that they even looked.” Her voice was harsh, even a touch angry.

“The cops are understaffed, they have to play the odds,” he said. “And the odds say that an adult who’s still, as far as they know, texting her best friend, is okay.”

“And the friend who thinks something’s wrong with those texts is imagining things.”

“They have to justify the time they spend on cases. They have a lot on their plate. When they’re dealing with murders, shootings, robberies and the like, there’s not a lot of time left for...”

He’d been about to say “lesser things,” but managed to bite it back before the words got out.

“I get it. I know they have priorities. And they did try. They took the report, entered it into their system, put out flyers and released them to the press. But it pretty much ended there. I don’t really blame them, and I wouldn’t be upset if I weren’t so worried.” She sighed audibly. “I would have hired a private investigator, if I could afford it. But everything I have went into starting the shop.”

“Well, you’ve got in essence a team of them now,” Teague said.

“And you really do this for nothing? How does Foxworth afford it?”

“Charlie.”

“Charlie,” Laney said, “must truly be a genius.”

“In many ways. Plus being the only person on earth I’ve seen Quinn intimidated by.”

“That is a frightening thought.”

Laney laughed as she said it, and Teague was grateful the moment of tension seemed to have passed.

“I still can’t believe Amber got on a plane to Vancouver, though,” she said. “She seriously hates to fly. She got groped really badly once, and she’s never flown since unless she had no other choice.”

“All we know for certain is she bought a ticket,” he cautioned. “Or at least, her credit card did.”

Laney was looking at him; he could feel it, without even taking his eyes off the road in front of them. And when she spoke he heard the underlying note of fear in her voice, although he could tell she was trying to hide it.

“Are you saying somebody else bought it in her name?”

“The ticket was purchased online.”

“So all they needed was the card in hand.”

“Yes.”

“If she is with Edward, why didn’t he buy it?”

“Good question.”

“They said it was a round-trip ticket, though, right?”

Teague nodded. He didn’t point out that anybody paying attention these days would know a one-way ticket, especially one for an imminent flight, automatically drew more attention.

“So she would have been back by now, if she really had taken that trip.”

“If she kept to that schedule, yes. It’s taking our team a bit longer to find if the ticket was actually used. Passenger manifests are kept pretty close these days.”

She went silent then, but Teague sensed her mind was still racing. It was as if having Foxworth on her side had helped her go from helpless flailing to critical thinking, and now she was catching up in a hurry.

“It’s asking a lot to hope some ticket or airline agent will remember having seen her two weeks ago, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But there’s always a chance.”

“She is kind of distinctive.” She paused, gave him a sideways glance. “By that I mean beautiful. Stop-you-in-your-tracks stunning.”

He’d seen the photo they’d chosen to show, seen the others Laney had. He couldn’t deny Amber was a beautiful woman. Hair the golden color of her name, hazel eyes also more gold than anything. He preferred the warmth of cinnamon-brown, himself, but there was no denying Amber would have been noticed by any guy around.

Amber and Laney together would be enough to turn heads.

“You two must have looked like flip sides of the same coin.”

“Amber’s much prettier,” she said. It sounded like a reflex, an automatic response. Because she believed it? Because she’d said it so many times it actually was a reflex?

A third possibility occurred to him.

“If you were fishing for a compliment, consider it landed.”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her head snap up. “No! I wasn’t. It’s a simple fact. I’m all right, but Amber is exquisite.”

He couldn’t deny the genuineness of her quick response; she really hadn’t been fishing. But what she said still surprised him.

All right? Is that really what you think, that you’re just “all right”?

It wasn’t just him, he told himself. Any guy breathing would think she was a lot more than “all right.”

But any guy wasn’t working for her—that’s how they were taught at Foxworth, you were working directly for the client—so he’d better keep his head straight.

No matter how difficult the woman sitting beside him made that.

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