Once a Family. Tara Quinn Taylor

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      While the calm and efficient manner of the phone representative had reassured him, the urgency with which the department was acting set his anxiety levels soaring again.

      He’d pulled Tatum’s recent school photo out of his wallet and handed it over. He’d emailed some photos from his phone while he’d been standing in the station. He’d already given a list of the social media sites she used, complete with usernames and passwords, explaining that he’d made her share them with him as a condition of her right to go on the sites.

      And while he’d nodded, expressing his thanks for the officers’ help, they’d scared the shit out of him.

      They’d assured him that an Endangered Missing Advisory would be issued immediately.

      Endangered missing?

      The words conjured up all kinds of horrible images. He couldn’t allow them to take root.

      He wasn’t going to lose Tatum. He couldn’t lose her. He’d loved the others—Talia and Thomas—still loved them. He’d taken good care of them. He’d give his life for any of his siblings.

      But Tatum...she was more daughter than sibling to him. He’d sacrificed everything for her.

      And she was going to be okay. They’d find her. There’d be some reasonable explanation for her absence. Just because he couldn’t come up with it didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

      She’d be home, sleeping in her own bed that night, or, at the very latest, tomorrow. And life would go on. Just like normal. Things would be fine.

      She’d take her SAT test in October. Outscore her older brother. And the sky would be her only limit.

      Because she was sweet baby Tatum....

      A tan-colored four-door sedan was parked in his driveway as Tanner pulled in, barely getting the truck into park before jumping from the seat. He didn’t recognize the car, but if someone had brought Tatum home to him...

      A couple got out of the car—one male, one female, both in dark suits. Both pulled badges from their pockets as they approached.

      Detectives Morris and Brown, they introduced themselves.

      “We’d like to take a look around your sister’s room,” the older of the two, the female, Morris, said. “According to our report this is the last place she was seen, is that correct?”

      “Yes.”

      They entered the house. Tanner stood in front of the cockeyed pillow in the living room, finding it incredible that it was only that morning that he’d tossed the stupid thing. Unbelievable that something so horrific could have occurred while the pillow just sat there as if nothing had happened all day.

      “We’ll need the names of everyone she knows or has had anything to do with now or in the past.”

      Calmly standing, while the detectives sat down uninvited, disturbing his pillow, Tanner listed every name he could remember. A total of nine.

      There should have been more. A lot more.

      But he’d been busy growing grapes and couldn’t remember.

      “You can check her Facebook page,” he said, relieved when he came up with the idea. “Everyone she knows or has ever known is on there.”

      “We’ve already got someone doing that,” Brown said. Tanner nodded. What else did a guy do when everything that mattered to him was on the line and he stood there completely helpless?

      “Does she have any enemies?”

      “Not that I know of.” Did Morris just frown at him? Okay, so maybe he’d been a bit preoccupied lately, but it was only so that he could make enough money to send Tatum to college if she didn’t get the scholarship she was hoping for.

      He’d had to spend a sizable chunk of savings the previous year to buy Talia out of her marriage to a man who’d been pimping her out to powerful acquaintances for profit. In fact, Tanner had bought her “services” from the man for an extended vacation, which had actually been time she’d spent in a safe house while she got help to divorce the man.

      After which she’d returned to exotic dancing.

      But the detectives didn’t need to hear any of that.

      “What about family?” Morris asked. She wasn’t writing any of this down.

      “No one in our family would hurt Tatum. We all adore her. She’s the baby.” He and Thomas and Talia fought sometimes. They didn’t always agree on life choices. But they’d never once disagreed about Tatum. That baby girl had been their only joy when they should all have been having the time of their lives.

      So could Tatum be with Talia?

      “Who is ‘we all’?” One of Morris’s very thin brows rose. Her tone of voice had changed. And for the first time Tanner realized that he might be a suspect.

      The detectives weren’t just there to help him find Tatum. They were there to investigate him.

      Here he was ready to piss himself or puke he was so worried, and they thought he’d done something to Tatum?

      * * *

      “I’M SORRY, MR. MALONE, I know this is difficult, but we have to ask, were you and Tatum having problems?”

      Brown had stayed with Tanner in the living room while Morris went up to Tatum’s room to look around. And now she’d returned to grill him some more. No telling what she’d found in his sister’s things.

      Lord knew he wasn’t her favorite person anymore.

      “Yes, we were,” he said now, hands in his pockets as he stood in his living room facing the two detectives sitting side by side on his couch. “But I didn’t hurt her. I was out in the vineyard all day. I can show you the fresh-cut clippings to prove it.”

      “But you don’t have an alibi?”

      “No, I do not.” He wasn’t going to lie. There was no point. But... “Put someone on me, look into every aspect of my life. But please, don’t stop looking for my sister while you do so. I am not your man and if you waste time focusing solely on me, God knows what will...”

      No. He couldn’t go there. He’d had enough heartache to last him a lifetime and could not borrow more.

      “You said you two had trouble....” Morris’s tone had softened, though not perceptibly.

      “About two months ago Tatum met this rich kid, Del Harcourt, at a party. He’s spoiled and selfish and I’m pretty sure he hit her. She had a bruise on her arm, a bad one.”

      “You saw the bruise?” Brown’s eyes widened.

      “Not at first. She kept her arm covered. But I grabbed her once—” which sounded bad “—and she flinched. I made her show me her arm. The bruise was faded, almost gone, but it was from a fist, I’m sure of it. She insists she walked into an old СКАЧАТЬ