Captured Again Read Free

sarcastically.
    She had him there. That was a total slip-up. He hadn’t meant to address her so familiarly. He ignored her question. Freedom and loss... must’ve been a breakup—or a job? he thought.
    “Freedom from what? Did you break up with your boyfriend?” Officer Rowan held his breath, hoping she would say yes. A girl like this would definitely have a boyfriend.
    “No,” she snapped and began tapping her fingers on the rough, scratched vinyl of the door panel.
    “Oh, so you’re still together? Will he be bailing you out?”
    “No and no.”
    Officer Rowan paused to let that sink in. She’d already said she didn’t break up with her boyfriend, and now no and no to still together, and he’s not bailing her out... Ah, she doesn’t have a boyfriend. Maybe I should set my sights on detective, he thought and smiled at his own inside joke.
    “Okay, so did you leave your job?”
    Emma sighed. “No.”
    Damn, Dusty thought, I skipped right over husband. She seems too young to have been married and divorced, but that has to be it... Just my luck.
    “Oh, I’m following you now. You’re celebrating your divorce. Sorry, I’m a little slow tonight,” he said while sneaking another peek at her in his rearview mirror, smiling back at her smugly for finally figuring it out.
    “No! I’m not divorced!” Emma huffed out a breath. “Look, it’s personal. Can we just keep this business? How long before I can leave the station after we get there? I’m hoping my sister will be there to pick me up. I’ve got class first thing in the morning.”
    “Yeah, me too...” he mumbled under his breath.
    Officer Rowan had run her license and tags, but no red flags came up. She couldn’t have just been freed from custody or he would have been alerted by his computer. He’d covered husband, job, and boyfriend. He wondered what was left. Whatever she’d been celebrating—or grieving—she was holding it close to her. He again chose to not answer Emma’s last question. He didn’t want to be the bearer of more bad news, and they were pulling into the station now. Someone else could fill her in during processing. He’d had enough of being the bad guy, even if he was just doing his job.

CHAPTER 3
    Gabby startled awake in the dark. She sat up quietly, listening, trying to find what had awoken her. She looked at the window, surprised to see it was dark outside. She must have slept the entire day through. Guilt pinched her conscience. She knew her boss was getting close to the end of his patience. Dammit, I hope I don’t lose my freakin’ job, she thought.
    That morning she’d gotten up with all intention of going to work. But she’d made the mistake of glancing out the window and seeing her swing dangling in the early morning mist. She’d walked out to sit for just a minute—she had told herself—but minutes had turned into an hour as her mind convinced her she should just call out of work one more day. She was late anyway, and she could just go back to bed and sleep... and dream of Jake.
    A breeze had tickled her toes. She had still been in her pajamas. She hadn’t found the energy to dress for work yet. So she had sat and swayed, not swinging... feeling bared—stripped of all the goodness in her life. She’d shivered uncomfortably. But this was the place she felt closest to Jake. He’d hung the swing the same day they’d moved into their new house, seven years before. It was his special gift to her.
    As she’d sat on her swing that morning, she’d gotten lost in remembering the day Jake hung it, her giggling as he grew tired and sweaty trying to throw the bundle of rope over the lowest limb of their oak tree—which was quite high—and missing over and over again as she’d yelled out, “I’ve seen better throwing in T-ball! You got about as much control as two rabbits on their first date! You couldn’t throw a party! Come on!”
    She’d cracked Jake up with her pitcher repartee, and he’d stopped