Chapter 18

Josie arrived home before twoa.m. She took a brief tour of the house, astounded by how neat and clean it looked. Turned out Noah was a hell of a cleaner. In the bedroom, she let her eyes adjust to the darkness. They'd put a nightlight in the hallway for when Harris slept over and with their bedroom door open, it gave off just enough light for Josie to make out Trout lifting his sleepy head from the foot of the bed. Josie pet him and kissed the top of his head. He made a snuffling sound and burrowed his face under the covers. Once he was asleep, he rarely woke. As guard dogs went, he was pretty useless, but he made up for it in cuteness. Josie stripped her clothes off and deposited them into the hamper. Then she slid into bed behind Noah, pressing her chest against his back, happy to find him shirtless. She snaked an arm around his waist, her fingers moving slowly upward as she traced the lines of his torso.

"Welcome home," he said, his voice foggy with sleep.

His skin against hers sent her pulse into overdrive, in spite of the late hour and the exhaustion that tugged at every muscle in her body. She snuggled closer, fitting her legs against the backs of his as she trailed light kisses over his shoulder. He caught the hand lazily tracing the ridges of his abdomen and held it against his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath it, strong and steady.

"Want to talk about the case?" he asked.

HELP

She tried to put the drawing and the idea of a child suffering somewhere as well as the image of Jane Doe into her mental vault for the night. She'd never sleep if she didn't. "No," she said.

Even half-asleep, Noah was attuned to the tone of her voice. He rolled toward her, bringing a hand to her cheek. "You sure about that?"

At their feet, Trout stirred. He made a noise like a huff and then jumped down from the bed and flopped onto the carpet. Seconds later, he was snoring.

"I'm sure," Josie told Noah. She pressed the full length of her body against his and took his hand from her face, sliding it down her body until it rested against the bare skin of her hip. She smiled when he pulled her closer. He sounded fully awake when he asked, "You want me to clear your head?"

She pulled him in for a kiss. "What do you think?"

Josie woke before their alarm went off. The bed was empty. She listened to the sounds of Noah and Trout moving around downstairs, cycling through the stages of their morning routine. Would that routine one day involve a child? Today would go a long way toward determining the answer to that very question. Immediately, she squashed the anxiety that bubbled in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't even had coffee yet. There would be time for worry later. She turned her head toward the sunlight streaming through the miniblinds. Noah had opened them before he went downstairs. He knew she liked the light. He knew everything that she liked. A smile curved her lips as she thought about the night before. Gone was the muscle pain and fatigue in her body. Even her mind felt quieter. It had become a joke between them that sex cleared her head, but in fact, it had always been true. Lucky for her, Noah was more than willing to oblige.

She found him downstairs in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. The back door stood open. Through the screen she could see Trout selecting the perfect place to do his business. On the kitchen table was a basket of muffins. Josie knew just by the sight and smell of them that Misty had baked them. She must have dropped them off that morning. Next to the basket was a drawing from Harris. In it, Josie and Noah stood next to what looked like a crib. Inside rested a bundle that represented a baby. Along the top of the page, in big, awkward letters he'd written: "Good Luck" and at the bottom of the page, simply: "Harris."

The quality was far more advanced than the drawing they'd found in Jane Doe's hand but the writing looked about the same in terms of the accuracy and spacing of all the letters.

HELP

"Josie," Noah said, his tone so serious that her hand froze over the page. When she looked up at him, he gave her a tight smile. "The case manager called about ten minutes ago. She's sick. We have to postpone."

Josie picked up Harris's drawing, clutching it against her chest as she plopped into the nearest chair. She knew she shouldn't feel defeated. The entire process was fraught with setbacks and lots of waiting, but she couldn't stop the disappointment from rolling over her like some kind of emotional rogue wave.

Noah walked over and squeezed her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "It's not a big deal. We'll still have the home study, just not today."

He laughed. "Yeah, now we get to be anxious for another week or two or three. Good times."

From beyond the screen door, Trout whined. Noah let him in. He made a beeline for Josie, his nails click-clicking on the tile. With her free hand, she scratched behind his ears and assured him that he was the best boy in the entire world. Satisfied, he curled up on top of her feet.

Josie turned her attention back to Harris's drawing.

Noah's gaze followed hers. "Harris might be more disappointed than us about this postponement."

For a seven-year-old, he was strangely invested in the idea of Josie and Noah "getting a baby" so he could have a "cousin" to play with. Josie's heart clenched. She put the drawing back on the table, face down. As he often did when Misty took him to work with her, Harris had used the back of her office letterhead as his canvas. His art teacher this year had ignited his new love for drawing. Josie was pretty sure it rivaled his love for T-ball at this point. He drew on any piece of paper he could get his hands on, and sometimes napkins.

Did the child responsible for the drawing in Jane Doe's death grip like to draw as much as Harris did? Who had given them the paper and crayons? She hoped that Hummel would be able to get prints from it that might help lead them to the child.

Trout shifted on top of her feet and let out a small whimper.

"Hey," Noah said, brow furrowing. "What's going on?"

Josie traced her fingers over the embossed letterhead. Denton Women's Center. "It's this case I caught yesterday. I think there's a child involved."

Noah leaned down and gave Trout a reassuring pet. "Work is always a good distraction. Tell me."

He poured her a coffee and they sat at the kitchen table. Josie walked him through the case in detail. When she'd finished, Noah laced his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Do you have a picture of the drawing?"

Josie found the photo on her phone and showed it to Noah.

"It looks like…an eye, maybe?" he said, taking the phone from her hands so he could better study it. Then he swiped to the photo of the plea for help.

"Yeah," she agreed. With a sigh, she pulled the basket of muffins closer. Blueberry, and chocolate chip with banana. Their favorites. "That was my first thought, but look closer. It makes kind of a weird eye."

"At this point," Noah said, "I'm not sure it matters what this is supposed to be. What we really need to do is work with what we already know. Two women were in the car. So far you can't connect any children to Mira."

Josie broke off a chunk of one of the chocolate chip banana muffins and stuffed it into her mouth. There was nothing that Misty made that didn't make her eyes roll into the back of her head. She wondered if there was some kind of cooking gene, and she just hadn't gotten it. Turning her attention back to the case, she said, "You're right, and since Jane Doe was holding the drawing, she should be the focus now. I've got to talk to Anya. Get the autopsy results and see if she had any luck getting an ID. I'm sure we can get the Chief to approve you to come in today and take your PTO when the home study is rescheduled. I'll call Anya now to see if she's ready for us."

Ten minutes later, Josie hung up with Dr. Feist. "Tena.m.," she told Noah.

"Perfect," he said. "We just had an opening on our calendar."