Heart of the Raven

She shook her head.

Ah. Keeps her own counsel. He liked that.

“If Eva had simply disappeared, without leaving a note,” Cassie said, her hand on the doorknob, “this whole situation would be different. The police would get involved. We would have access to their resources. I still think someone at her office could help.”

“I refuse to cause problems for her at work if she’s just having some kind of hormone overload. I’m already disregarding her wishes by hiring you to try to find her, for which I feel no guilt whatsoever, by the way. That’s my child she’s got. My life she’s playing with, as well.” He shoved his hands through his hair, locked his fingers behind his neck and made himself calm down. “Look, I’m trying to do the right thing here. It’s my fault she’s pregnant.”

“You know, Heath, these days I think we consider pregnancy a dual responsibility.”

“She was young.”

“Not that young. And you were vulnerable.”

It was the second time she’d used that word to describe him. He didn’t like it. Who was she to come to that conclusion so quickly?

“Vulnerable doesn’t mean weak,” she said, somehow reading his mind. “It means you’d been hurt so deeply you didn’t want to survive, but you did, so you have to deal with it, but it’s harder for you than for others. Most people can’t cope too long without the company of other people, of a compatible partner, no matter how short-lived.”

“Personal experience?”

“I haven’t lost a child.” She opened the door. “I’ll be in touch when I have news.”

“I want progress reports, not just news.”

“No problem.”

He didn’t want her to leave…but he couldn’t ask her to stay.

Three

Cassie grabbed an official-looking envelope from the passenger seat then headed into Eva’s apartment building. The hallway was surprisingly bright and cheerful. Someone was playing a clarinet, repeating the same section again and again. The fragrance of sautéing onions drifted, mingling with something spicy. Curry? It was five o’clock on Friday night. She hoped to catch Eva’s roommate before she headed out for the evening.

Eva and Darcy lived on the third floor. Cassie climbed the stairs then knocked on the door. After fifteen seconds she tried again. No one answered. No sounds came from inside.

She propped her shoulders against the wall next to the door to wait. So much of her job involved patience. She surprised even herself that she not only coped well with all the waiting involved but that she didn’t even mind it most of the time. Surveillance was often boring, but she was so grateful to be working for ARC that she didn’t even mind the long, dull hours sitting in her car waiting and watching for something to happen. Her life had changed drastically since Quinn had hired her late last year.

An image of Heath popped into her head. A fascinating man, simmering with emotion he carefully controlled. Talented and intelligent. Angry. Somber.

He had good reasons to be somber. Cassie had learned that his five-year-old son, Kyle, had died in a school bus accident three years ago, and that Heath had been with him but couldn’t save him. Heath was still married at the time, so the divorce had obviously come after they lost their son.

The death of a child, a divorce and now the disappearance of the woman carrying his baby—Cassie was surprised he was speaking in complete sentences.

She thought back to the look on his face when he’d opened the door to her last night. The hope that died fast when she didn’t have good news for him. She’d wanted to put her arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. His pain sent her reeling back to her own, different but still caused by other people taking away control, making you—

Someone was jogging up the stairs. Cassie pushed herself away from the wall just as a woman in her early twenties rounded the corner. Her hair was black and chin-length, a choppy cut popular with her age group. Her gold nose stud reflected light from a wall sconce. She wore a ruffled minidress over form-fitting jeans, a look that worked for her.

She challenged Cassie with her eyes.

“Are you Darcy?” Cassie asked.

“Why?”

“I’m looking for Eva Brooks.”

She slid her key into the lock. “Get in line.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Eva bailed a month ago.” The door opened. “I had to take a second job so I could cover the rent.” She looked Cassie up and down. “What d’you want with her?”

A month ago? “I have a document for her.”

Darcy eyed the envelope Cassie held. “What kinda document?”

“I really can’t say.”

“Well, I can’t help you.”

She started to shut the door. Cassie put her hand out to stop it from closing. “I really need to find her. It might mean a lot of money for her, if she’s the right Eva Brooks.” It was the right tactic. At the word money Darcy paid attention.

“She owes me rent and stuff,” Darcy said.

Cassie waited.

“Look,” the young woman said, “I don’t know where she’s at. The lawyer she works for called, too, but I couldn’t help him, either.”

“How long have you been roommates?”

“Couple of years. She got herself knocked up, though, so I was kinda glad she left ’cuz I really didn’t want a baby around, you know?”

“I’m sure. Did she talk about the father? Maybe she’s with him.”

She snorted. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Too old. Too stodgy. I don’t know. She had a list of reasons why she wasn’t hanging out with him.”

Cassie could see how Eva would perceive Heath as stodgy, especially if she didn’t see past his pain. But, old? “Still, she is pregnant,” she said to Darcy. “It would make sense that she would turn to him.”

“Maybe. Her mail’s still coming here, though. Bills. I’m not paying ’em.”

“Could I take a look?”

Darcy frowned. “Who are you?”

Cassie gave her a business card.

“A P.I.?” She gave a low whistle. “Sweet.”