A Wanted Man. Jennifer Morey

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      She laughed good-naturedly. “What decorating?”

      “I just moved in.” Two months ago, but who was counting?

      She walked farther into the office space. “This is a beautiful building. I wasn’t expecting that.”

      What was she expecting? He’d never met her before. “I’m sorry. You know my name but I don’t have the pleasure of knowing yours.”

      “Oh.” She laughed again, another big smile. “Penny Darden.” She walked over to him.

      “Penny.” He shook the hand she extended. “I assume there’s a reason you came to see me?”

      There it was, the grim circumstances that had led her here, dimming her beautiful eyes and sweeping away her cheery smile. A victim’s family behaved that way. Or maybe this woman was a friend. Didn’t matter. Murder never made people happy.

      “Sara Wolfe’s parents came to see you,” she said at last, daring to look into his eyes.

      He managed to cover up the jarring surprise that gave him. “They didn’t come to see me. The lead detective in her case called me.”

      “Oh...of course. I’m sorry.” She seemed nervous. What made her nervous? Him as a man or the Sara Wolfe case?

      “Are you media?” he asked.

      “No.” She clasped her hands in front of her, a vulnerable action for such a dynamic woman. He felt her energy, could see her basic strength. He saw a lot about people he first met. Those first impressions carried weight.

      “I drove here from Salt Lake City after I read about you.”

      She’d read about him? So her nervousness came from fascination, not the Wolfe case.

      “First of all, I’m really sorry about what happened,” she said softly. “About Annabelle. And your wife. It must not be easy. Losing them like that.”

      More dreaded talk. For the second time today, he felt sick to his stomach. He started to get angry. He couldn’t stand sympathy. People offered it when they had no idea what kidnapping did to those who had to live through the torture.

      “Just tell me why you’re here,” he bit out.

      At the hard clip to his tone, she checked herself. “Right. Sure.” She glanced down and then unclasped her hands and rubbed them on her jeans, shaking off awkwardness. “I actually came to talk to you about Sara Wolfe.”

      “Are you related?”

      She shook her head. “I heard about her murder on the news.”

      “All right...”

      She searched his eyes, hesitating but needing something. Without saying anything, she wandered across the small lobby, past a desk to the wall where nothing hung.

      “Why don’t we start with who you are?” She’d told him her name but nothing else. “What do you do?”

      She faced him. “I’m vice president of Client Services at Avenue One. We’re a big advertising agency, getting bigger each year.”

      “How do you know Sara Wolfe?” he asked.

      “I—I don’t, I just...read about her murder, and you, after...” She searched his eyes again.

      “After what?” he said to help her out.

      “One of our biggest clients is Ballard’s Sporting Goods. Have you heard of them?”

      “Big sporting goods chain. Yeah.”

      “Well, I’ve sort of been seeing the company’s president,” she said. “I met him when we landed the account and started working with him on their ad campaign. Jax Ballard. His older brother founded the company and they run it together.”

      “What do they have to do with the Sara Wolfe case?”

      Her gaze turned hard and determined, the businesswoman in her coming out. “This is where I have to be very delicate, Mr. Tandy.”

      He didn’t have to guess why. “You think Jax Ballard may have something to do with Sara Wolfe’s murder?” No longer sensitive about the case, he felt his detective instincts kicking in. This woman could have a significant lead.

      “I need to be sure before...”

      “Just tell me what you know.” A little girl had been killed. He’d offer no sympathy to her if she had information that could lead him to the killer.

      “I accompanied him to his cabin last Friday night. I walk every day, so I left for one early Saturday morning, before he woke. I followed a dirt road on his property and came upon an abandoned house and barn. I went into the barn and saw a truck parked inside. A white truck with a dent on the driver’s side.”

      All Kadin could do was stare at her after she stopped talking, her revelation—and what it could mean—tearing through him, bringing him back to those days and hours when he and the other investigators were closing in on the man who’d abducted and killed his precious little girl.

      “I—I’m not saying it’s the same truck. I—I just need to be sure before I go to the police.”

      “Did he know you found the truck?” he asked.

      “I told him I saw the barn and that’s it.”

      Kadin lifted his brow. “He believes you didn’t see it?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      She’d seen the truck parked—no, hidden—in an abandoned barn and had heard about Sara Wolfe. Then she had taken action. While he didn’t approve of her not going to the police, he did commend her for coming to him.

      “I went back.” She began to rummage in her purse.

      “Back to the barn?” Kadin stepped toward her as she pulled out a cell phone.

      He waited while she navigated.

      “I took these pictures.”

      He looked at them all and inwardly cheered when he saw the one with the VIN. As he lifted his head, his gaze collided with hers. “What made you decide to risk going back to get these?”

      “Evidence,” she said, as though he ought to know.

      “You put yourself in danger.”

      “I was a little worried Jax might catch me, but what if he moved the truck? When I left the barn, I saw a man in the trees. He was carrying a flashlight. He could have been anyone.”

      “A man wandering the woods at night? Alone?”

      “I thought it was strange, too. And then he followed me. At least I think he followed me.”

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