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“According to the report, she was out bike riding at around seven the last anyone saw her,” Jason said.
“Was the bike found?”
“No.”
“Who saw her?”
“A neighbor.”
“The last time she had contact with a family member?”
“Five-thirty, just after dinner. Her sister.”
“How old is the sister?”
“Ten.”
“Friends?”
Jason uncapped a marker and enlarged dots already made on the map. “These are where her friends live…”
The last one he circled edged a large thatch of forest.
They all leaned back and groaned.
“Right,” Megan said. “We’re talking over twenty-five hundred acres of land here. And I don’t think I have to point out that this area of Florida has had a lot of rain and the ground is oversaturated. As a result, there are some parts the sheriff’s personnel haven’t been able to reach yet.”
“Are you kidding me?” Dominic Falzone asked. “What, are they afraid of getting their feet wet?”
A couple of chuckles and added insults.
Megan looked toward the door where she knew the deputy was talking to the motel manager just outside.
“We’ll be working together as a team, guys, so I’d appreciate it if you could keep the insults to a minimum.”
Dominic Falzone was a decorated war vet, a tried-and-true Marine, but his mouth had landed the dark-haired, dark-eyed Lazarus team member into more than his fair share of hot water.
Jason stepped up. “Since conditions today are much like they were yesterday, search personnel probably guessed there was no way the girl could have gotten in and out of those areas by herself.”
Megan’s fingers tightened on her own marker.
Of course, what went unsaid was that someone could have taken her in there.
“Listen up, this is the plan…”
Within ten minutes Jason had outlined where he wanted them to enter the forest, each at twenty-five-yard intervals.
“Okay, we don’t have much usable daylight left,” he said. “Grab your gear and let’s get going.”
It was only 4:00 p.m., but since it would be darker inside the forest without direct sunlight, they estimated maybe three hours before they’d have to call it quits for the night.
Of course, Megan fully expected there to be objections.
She hefted her own bag and followed the team out of the room, watching where Lazarus partner Lincoln Williams stood against the wall outside, having listened without participating, every bit the spook he had once been with the FBI, smoking a cigarette. He pitched it to the curb and followed.
IT WAS AFTER TEN before they returned to the motel and after midnight before the command center emptied out except for him and Megan. Other team members had returned to their own rooms to catch what sleep they could before rising again at 5:00 a.m.
Jason sat back in one of the extra chairs that had been brought in. While they were away, the motel owner had arranged to have the beds removed and chairs and two folded tables brought in instead. Jason didn’t feel tired in the least. They’d made good ground today. But they needed to find the girl soon.
“Where did Linc get off to?” Megan asked, stretching.
“Lord knows. Even when he’s here, I hardly know it.”
A ghost of a smile. “Tell me about it. The guy’s as big as a train car, but if he doesn’t want to be seen, he won’t be.”
Jason thought about pushing the box of cold hot wings her way, wondering if she’d refuse. He hadn’t seen her eat much of anything all day, always busy doing something or other, either checking notes or surveying the map and detailing tomorrow’s route.
He nearly sighed in relief when she reached for the box herself, pulling it forward and taking out one of the sticky chicken wings. He leaned back and took a beer from a cooler, twisted off the top and handed it to her.
“Thanks.”
He opened himself one and then rocked back on the chair legs, watching her.
She made no attempt to take dainty bites, the way he’d seen countless women before her do. And when she took a pull from the beer, it was a genuine tip-your-head-back slug that emptied half the bottle.
He grinned and absently rubbed his chin. If not for the way her T-shirt emphasized her breasts, he might think she was one of the guys.
His gaze homed in on her mouth and he felt a strangely familiar tightening of his pants across his groin. Oh, no, even without makeup and a dress, there was absolutely nothing masculine about Megan McGowan.
“What?”
He blinked up into her blue eyes, realizing he’d been caught. “Nothing.” He pointed toward her mouth. “You’ve got a bit of sauce…yeah, right there.”
She wiped at the red dot with her napkin and continued eating.
“Good?”
“Huh?” She looked at the wing in her hand. “I didn’t even notice. I’m operating on automatic right now.”
Jason let the chair legs clunk to the floor. “Yeah, me, too.”
“They’re not bad, I guess.” She shrugged. “I’m not a big wings girl, really.”
“What kind of girl are you, really?”
She smiled. “A regular fried-chicken kind of girl.”
He chuckled and swallowed a good portion of his beer.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say. Given the direction of his earlier thoughts, maybe something like filet mignon or salmon.
Instead, she’d chosen what might possibly be an even sloppier and more fattening alternative.
This from the girl who had passed on fries the other night.
Of course, like him, she understood her body needed the calories. Running as they had that day, they could easily burn double a regular day’s nutrients.
“You’re staring again.” She laughed.
“I am?” He was.
Jason ran his hand over his face, watching as she checked her silent cell phone for the tenth time in the past ten minutes.
“Heard anything more?” he asked.
She shook her head. “You?”
“Nope. Figured you were lucky to have heard from him when you did. Lord only knows how long he’ll be out.”
He watched her frown.
In all the time Megan and Dari had been a couple, he didn’t think he’d talked to her as much as he had in the past four months. Or looked at her more than he had today. She was his best friend’s girl—period.
Yeah? Then what was he still doing there watching her eat rather than hightailing it back to his own room for some shut-eye?
“So…” he said. “You two talk about getting hitched?”
Her brows hiked up on her forehead. “Nah. Not seriously.”
“But you have talked about it.”
She shrugged noncommittally, her movements seeming to slow.
Finally, she put down the wing she was eating and wiped her hands.
“Well,” she said, looking everywhere but at him. “It’s going to be an early morning, so I think I’m going to hit the sack.”
Jason cleared his throat. “Yeah, me too.”
She began gathering the boxes and empty bottles on the table.
“Leave it. I’ll make sure the motel staff picks it up before five.”
“Thanks.”
She moved toward the door. Was it his imagination, or did she seem a little distracted?
“God. Where is my head?”
She backtracked to the table and picked up her phone.
She’d forgotten her cell?
“Well…good night.”
Jason cleared his throat and reached for another beer. “Good night.”
He stopped short of adding “Sweet dreams.” Truth was he was afraid his dreams tonight were going to be too sweet. And chances were high they were going to feature her….
4
MEGAN LAY BACK in the king-size motel room feeling as if sand coated her eyeballs. It was after two and she hadn’t been able to close her eyelids for more than a moment, much less fall asleep. Which was par for the course lately.
She reached over to check her quiet cell and then lie back again with a heavy sigh.
In recent weeks, she’d become aware of a sort of silent humming. Oh, she missed Dari with her head and her heart. But her body had been fine. Of course, sexting had probably helped. But now, now she felt as if she wanted to jump out of her skin it was so uncomfortably alive.
The sensation began at the tip of her toes, traveled upward to her inner thighs, making her nipples constantly hard, making her panties constantly damp.
An image of Jason chanced through her mind. She frowned, attributing the aberration to the fact she’d just seen him.
She groaned and rolled over onto her side, back to the nightstand and the cell phone on top of it. Despite the nonstop hum of the air conditioner under the window, it was still hot and she wore nothing but a white tank top and a pair of white cotton panties. She’d stripped the blankets back and was lying on the sheets. But the humidity was brutal and seemed to contribute to her sense of longing.
Without realizing that’s what she had in mind, she slipped her hand between her thighs so her wrist pressed against her damp crotch and then she squeezed her muscles together tightly. She groaned again as white-hot need shot through her every cell.
She’d been known to take matters into her own hands before. But certainly not since meeting Dari. He saw to every one of her needs and beyond.
But now that he was gone, she was all too aware she was a living, breathing female in need of release, preferably with a willing, skilled male.
Of course, her male was thousands of miles away in a sweltering desert just then, and her release was nowhere to be found.
She rolled back onto her back, shifting her hand so that it lay directly against her aching womanhood through the damp cotton. Heat shimmered up to her breasts and then sank back down to pool in her lower belly.
Yes…
It had been four long months since she’d felt Dari…right there. Touching her. Thrusting deep into her…
She stroked herself through the cotton and restlessly licked her lips, surrendering to what she was about to do and ultimately embracing it. Only, the connection wasn’t nearly intimate enough, so she edged her fingertips under the elastic of her panties, diving lower still until they met with her slick, shallow channel.
Megan stretched her head back and moaned, riding the delicious waves of sensation, a willing surfer bent on exploring deeper waters.
She ran her fingertips along the damp length of her swollen folds, working her middle into the tight pool for a dip. Her muscles immediately contracted, closing around the digit, begging for an even more meaningful meeting.
Her other hand trailed down her stomach until it, too, took up residence under the cotton of her panties. But where her left had focused on exploring dark, damp places, her right found her fleshy center, rubbing against it once, twice…
Megan gasped, her muscles contracting, allowing her the release she’d sought. She rode it out, welcoming every last spasm even as she clamped her legs together, trapping her hands where they were.
For long moments she lay there, absently stroking her pulsing flesh, curious as to why her cheeks were suddenly damp. She was surprised to find she was crying…
