All the Pretty Girls - J. T. Ellison [9]
Taylor turned back to face him. His green eyes were clouded with worry, the salt-and-pepper hair standing on end. She knew that he’d been running his hands through it, trying to make his mind work harder.
“Missing hands and dead bodies seem like an awful lot to me.” She sounded peevish and felt idiotic. There was no reason to be mad at Baldwin, he was just doing his job. A job he wanted her to do with him. It looked as if they were going to have the chance to work together, just like he wanted.
“Are you setting up a task force?”
“It’s me at the moment. I knew I could work with you on it, so I’m freelancing. There’re two other guys working the old cases—Jerry Grimes and Thomas Petty, I’ll share information with them, they’ll share with me. You know how it is.”
Baldwin had been acting in a consultant capacity, on loan from the FBI to Metro Nashville Homicide, for three months now. His help had proved invaluable to her cases. Of course, sharing a bed with him wasn’t such a bad perk.
She gave him an appraising smile. “You work fast. Talked to Price, have you?”
He sat at the table, nodding. “Garrett Woods made the call.” Woods was Baldwin’s boss at the FBI, and friends with Mitchell Price, the head of the Criminal Investigations Division for Metro. Homicide was his responsibility.
Taylor turned back to the stove. “I’m hungry. We can talk about this later.”
Baldwin smiled at her. “Who says we’re going to talk?”
Taylor was in the shower when the call came. Baldwin knew better than to answer her phone. She was fiercely private and detested the idea of anyone confirming the fact that she and Baldwin were, well, involved would be the best way to put it. Very, very involved. It just wouldn’t do to have her detectives questioning her motives or intentions, and she preferred to let them wonder at the nature of their personal relationship. If they knew she was sleeping full-time with a fed, they’d look at her differently. At least, that’s what she told herself.
Her best friend was the only one she’d confided in. Sam Loughley thought she was crazy for trying to keep it hush-hush, tried to convince Taylor time and again that her team wouldn’t be harassed in the least by Taylor’s relationship with Baldwin, but Taylor liked to keep her work life and her private life separate.
She stepped out of the shower, toweled off and made her way to the answering machine. The message was brief. “Call in,” the voice said, immediately recognizable as Fitz. It was late, and she was tired, but she dialed Fitz’s cell and waited for him to answer.
“’Lo?”
“Fitz, it’s Taylor. What’s up?”
“Just thought you’d want a heads-up. We got a missing persons report about half an hour ago. Girl named Shauna Davidson, from Antioch. Don’t know if it’s anything, but she’s been missing since yesterday. Never came home last night, so her mother says. She has been trying to reach her, but Shauna isn’t answering her home or cell phone. The mother saw the news, heard the report about a dead girl in the field and thought it might be her girl. She completely freaked out. Problem is, the girl in the field isn’t Shauna Davidson, and Shauna doesn’t seem readily available.”
Taylor felt her stomach sinking. “Is she brunette?”
She heard Fitz flipping pages. “Yep. Brown on brown, five-six, hundred forty pounds. Eighteen.”
“Any more information on her? Where does she work? Maybe she showed up there?”
Fitz flipped another page. “Doesn’t say. Kid like that, I’d bet some clothing store or waitress job. She’s in Antioch, probably works at Hickory Hollow or something. I’ll chase it down. I’m headed to her place now. Shouldn’t be too hard to figure it out. There are officers on the scene, word over the radio is possible foul play. Could be the lock’s busted on her door, could be more.”
“Well, get out there and see what it looks like. Hopefully, she’s just out of pocket.”
“I’m on it. I’ll call you if we need you.”
“Thanks for letting me know. I’ll see you in the morning unless something happens tonight.”
She