Chapter 4 FOUR

COLE

The minute I stepped into the office and saw the detective seated behind that desk, I found myself hoping I was wrong.

Bob had warned me that something about the Red Dress kidnapping investigation didn't sit right with him. By the time the case had been classified as a national security threat and Military Intelligence was called in, the police had already submitted their final report. 

The problem was that the report we received wasn't complete. Entire sections had been removed before it ever reached us, and nobody seemed willing to explain where they had gone. 

Bob had taken a risk telling me even that much.

I hadn't come to police headquarters expecting easy answers, and I certainly hadn't walked in believing the lead detective would hand me the truth. 

Most people protected their careers before they protected the facts. What I wanted wasn't a confession. I wanted to see her. Sometimes a person's reaction told you far more than any case file ever could.

What I hadn't expected was to recognize her.

The moment I saw the Detective Blaire Hayes sitting behind that desk, my mind immediately drifted back to Rita's wedding. She was the woman I'd noticed standing across the ballroom that evening, the one who kept pretending not to look at me while stealing the occasional glance whenever she thought I wasn't paying attention. At the time, I'd simply found her interesting.

The following morning, Bob had dropped a thin file onto my desk.

Lead Detective: Blaire Hayes.

Age: Twenty-seven.

Sole surviving victim connected to the Red Dress Killer.

I had read those words more than once, hoping they'd somehow make more sense the second time around.

They didn't.

If there was one person who should have wanted that case solved, it was the woman who had survived it. Yet somewhere between the police department and Military Intelligence, crucial pieces of the investigation had disappeared.

I couldn't ignore a coincidence like that.

Either Detective Blaire Hayes knew something she hadn't told anyone...

Or someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to keep the truth from both of us.

"Hello?" She asked, since I was so wrapped up in my thoughts. "Do I know you?"

A quiet laugh escaped me.

She was good.

Very good.

If I hadn't seen the way she'd looked at me across that ballroom a few nights ago, I might actually have believed she'd never laid eyes on me before.

"My bad," I said with an easy smile. "I thought you looked familiar. I could've sworn I saw someone who looked just like you at a colleague's wedding."

For the briefest moment, recognition flickered across her face before she smoothed it away behind a professional smile.

"Ohhh... what a coincidence."

"Isn't it?"

A faint blush slowly crept into her cheeks, and although she recovered almost immediately, she'd already answered the question I hadn't asked.

She remembered me.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, I'd just gotten my confirmation.

Her eyes shifted past me toward the officer standing at the doorway.

"I'm good."

The young woman nodded.

"Okay, boss."

As soon as the door clicked shut, the office became noticeably quieter.

Detective Hayes gestured toward the chair opposite her desk.

"Please, have a seat."

I lowered myself into the chair while she reached into one of her drawers and pulled out a small jotter and a pen. She uncapped it, flipped to a clean page, then looked back at me with the same composed expression she'd worn since I'd walked in. To anyone else, she probably looked perfectly calm.

I wasn't anyone else.

"If you don't mind me asking," she began, resting the tip of her pen against the page, "why are you here, Mister..."

"Cole," I supplied. "Cole Hastings."

She nodded and wrote my name down before looking up again.

"And what can I help you with, Mr. Hastings?"

There it was.

The question I'd been waiting for.

I held her gaze for a second before answering.

"I'm here because of the Red Dress kidnapping case."

Everything changed.

The pen stopped moving.

The color drained from her face so quickly it was almost unsettling, and for one suspended moment she simply stared at me as though she'd forgotten where she was. Then the jotter slipped from her fingers, clipped the edge of the desk and landed on the floor with a dull thud neither of us acknowledged.

When she finally spoke, the calm detective who had welcomed me into her office was gone.

"Get out."

The words were sharp enough to cut through the silence between us.

For a moment, I simply stared at her.

That was not the reaction I had expected.

Most people who heard about a case like this would have questions. They would want to know why I was interested, what information I had after three years of silence.

They would not immediately ask me to leave.

But Detective Hayes did.

"Why?" I asked, my voice calmer than the situation probably deserved. "Why are you so determined to get rid of me?"

Her expression hardened, but she didn't answer.

I watched her carefully, trying to understand what exactly I was seeing. Anger, I expected. Maybe suspicion. Maybe even frustration.

But beneath all of that was something else.

Fear.

It was there for only a second, hidden so quickly that most people would have missed it.

I almost did.

"Is it because you're involved?" I asked.

The question changed everything.

A humorless laugh escaped her lips, and she shook her head slowly as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I don't care what Rita told you about me being kidnapped," she said, her voice colder now. "But I promise you, that's not the best way to start a conversation with a woman you don't know."

I studied her for a moment before pushing myself to my feet.

"Oh," I said quietly, unable to stop the small smile that appeared on my face. "So you do remember me, Detective Hayes."

The reaction was immediate.

The color returned to her cheeks, and for someone who had spent years interrogating criminals and reading people, she was surprisingly easy to read when she wasn't prepared.

"Yes," she admitted, folding her arms across her chest. "I remember you."

Her eyes narrowed.

The corner of my mouth moved before I forced my expression back into something more serious.

For a moment, I forgot why I was there.

Almost.

"I don't know what exactly you're hiding, Detective Hayes," I said, holding her gaze. "But someone worked very hard to bury parts of that investigation, and I'm going to find out why."

Something flickered in her eyes, but she quickly looked away.

She reached for the telephone on her desk instead, pressing the numbers with more force than necessary.

The sharp clicking sound filled the room.

"I didn't ask Rita about you," I added. "So before you assume your friend told me everything, she didn't. I'm here for work, Detective Hayes."

She finally looked back at me.

"And the work involves me."

The silence that followed felt heavier than before.

"I want you to understand something," I continued. "I'm going to get to the bottom of the Red Dress kidnapping case whether you like it or not."

Her expression didn't change, but I could tell she heard every word.

I turned toward the door.

"Good day."