Wes’s shoulders rose and fell with his heavy breath, then he glanced at Alex. “Not a step out of place.”
He raised the yellow tape, and she followed Rowan beneath. Suddenly Rowan turned back and grabbed her arm. “You don’t need to see this.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not seeing this without me.” Even though there was a trepidation running beneath the surface of her strength, she pulled away from his hand and followed Wes toward all the bright lights. She felt Rowan follow.
She’d never seen her sister’s dead body, but she would have given anything to have had Rowan with her when she found out Lena was dead.
The closer they got, the more she realized the body lay near a small forested area. First, she saw a foot, then a whole leg, all the way up to the naked torso. The killer hadn’t even tried to hide the body. He had placed her on full display, like some sick piece of artwork. Which, as Alex moved closer, she admitted to herself made the scene slightly easier to take in.
She found very little blood. The body lay in a position that looked very similar to a move a ballet dancer would make. And in the place of the woman’s head was a bouquet of roses. So many things rushed through her mind, ready to fall out of her mouth, but she kept her lips pressed shut, knowing no matter how disturbing this was to her, it had to be much worse for Rowan.
With her heart in her throat, disregarding Wes’s order, she took her hands out of her pockets and reached out to find Rowan’s hand. He gripped her fingers tight and stepped closer. When she moved in next to him, she gave him a quick look and was surprised to find that his gaze was not shocked or disturbed, but focused, searching the body.
“Is it Mia?” Wes asked, sidling up to them.
Rowan finally let out his breath. “I don’t know. Can I get closer?”
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Wes nodded. “You can, but don’t touch.”
Rowan gave Alex’s hand a final hard squeeze then approached the woman. Standing on top of the pressed-down hay, he scanned every inch of her skin, until he settled on her right hip. “Mia had a chicken pox scar on her hip here. I’m not seeing it.” He glanced over his shoulder at Alex. “You?”
It occurred to her that it was the worst time for her to feel flattered that he looked to her, not his good friend Wes, but she appreciated that he valued her input. She leaned in a little closer. “I don’t see a scar.”
Relief and emotions that Alex couldn’t put a name to even if she tried, rushed across Rowan’s expression. He turned back to the woman, and if Alex hadn’t been listening closely, she would have missed when he said, “I’m sorry, sweet girl.” With his hard expression back in place, he said to Wes, “Thank you for arranging this. If anything else comes up, you’ll let me know?”
“Of course.” Wes stepped forward and cupped Rowan’s shoulder. “I won’t stop trying to find her.”
“I know.” Rowan gave a firm nod then glanced at Alex. “We’ll keep you in the loop on our end.”
Wes inclined his head, then he turned away and moved toward the cops waiting at their vehicles.
Alex felt the slight tremble in Rowan’s hand when he slid his fingers in hers and led her away from the scene toward the Uber that waited for them on the side of the road.
Once the bright lights of the crime scene began to fade, she pulled a little against his hand. “Just wait a second.”
He glanced down at her, then, and the glow of the lights behind him displayed the dark pain in his eyes, and she knew exactly what he needed right now.
It wasn’t to talk.
She slid her arms around his middle, offering him the warmth she’d needed when Lena had first gone missing. He stayed tense for a long moment before he finally sighed, his arms wrapping around her while his lips came down on the top of her head.
CHAPTER 13
ONLY A FEW blocks away from Central Park, Rowan brought Alex back to his one-bedroom apartment. Alex went straight for the leather couch against the far wall between the two windows and set her laptop against the armrest of the couch, curling her legs up underneath her. “I need more time with that one server,” she said.
What she probably needed was sleep, but Rowan knew that wouldn’t happen for either of them anytime soon. “I’m going to shower,” he said.
She didn’t even look up. “Mmm.”
Exhaustion weighed him down as he moved toward the bathroom. There, he wasted no time shedding his clothes and then getting into the shower, turning the water onto hot. He’d felt conflicted many times in his life. Over many different things. But the feeling of relief that hit him when he didn’t see Mia’s chicken pox scar left him feeling sick to his stomach. He’d so desperately wanted it to be another woman, and yet when he saw that poor woman left in the way the killer had left her, he felt sickened that he’d prayed it hadn’t been Mia.
Beneath the hot stream of water, he dropped his head, allowing the water to beat against his hard muscles.
Mia.
His sister was a fighter. She was the little girl on the playground who beat up the boy bullies. She was strong and loyal and all the good that was in this world. And he wanted her close. Safe.