phone rang and she pulled it out of her jeans pocket. “It’s my dad.” She
answered the phone, eager to hear his voice.
“Margaret wanted me to call and let you know she can stay with me for as long as you
need to be away, and that you shouldn’t hurry,” Ben said.
“Logan and I are heading to Amy Bittinger’s,” she said. “We want to see if she can
help us speak to Su Lin’s parents. Then Logan’s helping me with one of my other cases.
I’ll be there by dinner time, though. Love you.”
“Love you too, darlin’. Although I don’t know why you gals keep hovering.” He clicked
off.
She hung up, smiling, then grabbed her purse and pulled out a twenty.
“I’ve got it.” Logan’s warm hand covered hers. Heat radiated along her hand and up
her arm, and seared into her heart, making her want. Him. This.
Them.
Damn . She was a glutton for punishment. She wanted what she never would let herself have.
…
Keely and Logan exited the SUV and walked up the brick path to Amy and Craig Bittinger’s
brownstone. The dark circles under Logan’s eyes stood out against his tanned skin.
She should send him home to rest. He was working too hard. After ringing the bell,
she was just about to tell him so when a small hand moved the front window curtain.
She focused on the tiny hand, remembering three-year-old George Padilla and the timid
way he’d spotted them yesterday. Was he happy now, at his new foster home? And where
was his sister, Melita?
A bolt lock clanked and she shifted her attention to the front door.
“Keely.” Amy Bittinger glanced behind her into the house, opened the door just wide
enough to squeeze through, and stepped outside. She wore black and white Nike pants,
a pristine white shirt and matching jacket, and her makeup looked expertly applied.
Keely only bothered with mascara when she went to work—if she happened to remember
it.
“What’s up?”
Keely took a step back to make room on the landing. “We need your help. You speak
Thai, right?”
Amy nodded, but focused her attention on Logan.
The front door opened and Craig Bittinger made a point of hushing a barking dog before
stepping outside, closing the door behind him. He wrapped his left arm around Amy’s
waist and thrust out his right hand. “Nice to see you again, Detective North,” he
said. “We’d invite you in, but our dog isn’t used to strangers yet. He’s a rescue.”
Craig flashed a smile at Keely. “How’s your dad doing?”
“He’s doing a lot better, thanks.” She glanced at Amy. “I’m trying to find out what
happened to Su Lin, the pregnant girl from Los Angeles who was supposed to fly into
Baltimore yesterday. She didn’t show up at BWI. Her parents only speak Thai.”
“I’m happy to help,” Amy said, exchanging a glance with her husband.
“Amy’s your woman. She speaks to her mom in Thailand at least once a week,” Craig
said.
Logan took out the list of questions for Su Lin’s parents. “By the way, I hear you
have a briefcase that matches the one stolen from Ben, Mr. Bittinger.”
Craig nodded. “Yes, I do.”
“Didn’t you think that was important enough to tell me when Keely asked you about
Ben’s briefcase at the hospital the other day?”
Craig met Logan’s gaze. “If I remember correctly, you asked if I knew what was in Ben’s briefcase. Honestly, I didn’t make the connection about having a similar one.”
“Out of curiosity, is it nearby? Could I see it?” Logan asked.
“Of course. Anything we can do to help Ben.” Craig glanced at his wife. “I’ll be right
back.” He slipped back inside the house, and came out seconds later with a briefcase
marked with the initials CAB. The Loving Arms two-heart logo was etched into the leather.
Without Logan asking, Craig opened it, displaying neatly organized pads of paper,
pens, and a few menus from his diner.
Nothing suspicious about those contents. Unless Logan