Free Dalton, Tymber - Stoneface (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) by Tymber Dalton

have a legitimate reason to believe she’s in danger, or is a danger to herself or others, she isn’t a missing person. She’s a hiding person. Unless she’s got a warrant out on her, or is violating parole or probation, or is wanted in connection with a crime, there isn’t anything I can do. If you want to find her before she’s ready to come home under the current circumstances, contact a private investigator. If you have reasonable cause to believe she’s in danger, then we can get involved.” He leaned forward. “I will warn you against filing a false report saying you believe she’s in danger if you don’t really think she is.”
    She set her jaw. “Please call the desk clerk at the hotel. She said if the cops talk to her, she’ll tell them who the guy is. At least give me that. Toss me a bone, buddy.”
    “I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
    “You could get off your ass and make one simple phone call!” She hadn’t risked her sanity and shitting her pants in fear to fly all the way out there, just to be stonewalled by a lazy, albeit handsome, dick-Barney-fucking-Fife who couldn’t be bothered to let his fingers do the walking.
    His expression darkened. “We’re done here, Miss Oxford.” He stood. “Do you need me to escort you out, or can you find the front door by yourself?”
    “No, I can find it. Sorry I wasted your time. I’m sure somewhere in this city is a missing donut in need of your attention.” She grabbed her stuff and stormed out of the station.
    Fuck! Me and my goddamned temper!

    * * * *

    Jack blew out a relieved breath. Technically, he could have looked into the woman’s story, but from what she’d said it was most likely the sister needed a break from the craziness at home.
    Especially if this woman was any indication of what the rest of her family was like.
    The fact that she’d been the spitting image of Melodie hit him like a kick in the balls when he’d walked out to the waiting room to bring her back to his desk. Except for her hairstyle, she could have been her, just a few years younger than what she’d probably look like today.
    If she hadn’t died.
    He closed his eyes for a moment before leaving his desk and walking into the restroom, where he locked himself in for a minute so he could splash water on his face.
    He didn’t need this. Why now? Suddenly, everywhere he turned, every conversation, even ones with Tim brought back memories of her.
    He would have to tell Tim the full story. It’d probably hurt Tim’s feelings a little that he hadn’t talked about Mel before now, but Tim was good about understanding him. Never tried to pry things out of him.
    Just like Mel.
    Fuck . Except that Tim was a hunky guy, the two of them could have been twins, personality-wise. How had he missed realizing that in the past six years? Funny, spunky, sweet, smart, protective, loyal. Sexy and emotional.
    He stared at himself in the mirror. It felt like he rarely smiled anymore. Another reason for Tim’s nickname. Stoneface.
    He used to smile. A long time ago. He remembered being happy all the time, it seemed. Even if life was crappy, he had Melodie to cheer him up.
    And…
    But he didn’t want to think his name this morning.
    He didn’t even want to think about the man he used to love.

    * * * *

    She called Liam. “I blew it, bro.”
    “What?”
    “I just pissed off a cop.”
    “You in jail?”
    “No.” She told the story. “What do I do now?”
    He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe you should just come home.”
    The thought of flying again filled her with panic. “I didn’t fly all the way out here not to find her.”
    “She apparently doesn’t want to be found.”
    “Tough shit. She should talk to us and give us an explanation. She bugs out without explanation, leaving us holding the bag? Fuck her. She’s going to have to tell us what’s going on so we know what to tell Mom and Dad.”
    “Hold on.” She heard him tapping on his laptop. “Hey,