Gone Missing. Camy Tang

to that thought. She couldn’t think about her losses, because then the pain would grip her again and it would take too much time and effort to make it let go.

      Her eyes refocused on Clay, who was on the phone with a cab company. Fiona had spoken warmly, although a bit sadly, about her brother. She could see aspects of Fiona in Clay, their friendliness to others, their protectiveness. And like Fiona, Clay made Joslyn think differently about herself.

      At the clothing store, he had made her feel feminine. She was used to being around men because of her major in software engineering, but even the women she met had been tomboyish like her.

      But not Fiona. She’d tried to get Joslyn out of her shell, going out more, interacting with other people more.

      Clay had pulled her even further out, shattering her habit of thinking of herself as “one of the guys.” He’d had difficulty in explaining why, but he’d wanted her to wear that dress. And she didn’t understand why she’d listened to him.

      After all, Tomas had done the same thing—bought her dresses, told her she was beautiful. Since that episode in her life, she’d retreated to her old fashion sense, which consisted of pants and shirts, practical garments that were similar to what the other engineers wore. So why had she listened to Clay about the sundress? Wasn’t this a bad thing?

      Luckily she’d brought her side flashbang gun holster with her on this trip, so she hadn’t had to worry about a visible gun harness for her firearm. She’d only recently gotten her Concealed Carry Permit, since she started working for the O’Neill Agency.

      Clay hung up. “The cab should be here in a few minutes. And the rental company said they’d file the police report since they have GPS tracking on the car.”

      “Speaking of trackers, since we’re dumping our clothes, maybe we should ditch our cell phones, too, in case they managed to put a tracker in them or clone them.”

      “No, wait,” Clay said. “Let’s keep our cell phones for a little while.”

      “We should at least dismantle them so they can’t trace the GPS—”

      “No, keep them on. I have an idea.”

      But before she could tell him, the cab arrived. It drove them to Fiona’s company parking lot so she could pick up her car. When the cab had left, Joslyn asked, “What now?”

      “Let’s go to my hotel.”

      “But the men after us will know you’ll go back there.”

      “It’s what I’m hoping for,” Clay said.

      She looked at him strangely. “Does this have to do with the cell phones?”

      “Yup. Let’s go.”

      His hotel was close to Fiona’s house, which was unfortunately halfway across town, so it took them the better part of an hour before they were finally pulling into the hotel parking lot. There were a couple police squad cars parked outside the front doors. Clay’s shoulders were bunched as he saw them. Joslyn wondered if it was a throwback to his time working for that mob family. He certainly wouldn’t have been happy to see the police back then.

      However, as she drove past the squad cars, there was suddenly loud shouting. She instinctively hit the brakes.

      Then they were surrounded by police officers. Joslyn glanced at Clay, but he had the same perplexed look. “What do we do?” she asked.

      “Get out of the car, I guess.”

      She turned off the engine and slowly got out of the car. Clay opened the passenger side door and cautiously stood up, his hands raised.

      And instantly the officers were slamming him face-first against the side of the car and slapping handcuffs on him.

      “What’s going on?” Joslyn said. The officers weren’t bothering with her.

      “Clay Ashton, you’re under arrest,” one officer said.

      “For what?” he demanded.

      “A hit-and-run accident. You put a kid in the hospital.”

FOUR

      Joslyn reined in her temper as she exited the police station. It wasn’t the fault of the officer behind the reception desk that they couldn’t give out any information about Clay, but she still felt like kicking something.

      The Arizona heat was a slap in the face after the slightly sour smell of the police station waiting room, where she’d spent the better part of the last hour. She needed to regroup and figure out her next move, but she wouldn’t be able to do it there.

      The worst part was not knowing what the right course of action was. Everything about this situation was out of her hands—she couldn’t find out what charges Clay was being held on, she didn’t know anything about the two men who were after them and worst of all, Fiona was missing and they had no idea where she was or if she was even alive.

      She shivered despite the heat. She had to believe Fiona was still alive.

      Right now, she had to find out how to exonerate Clay. She remembered what Fiona had said about her brother, and now that she’d met him, Joslyn found it easy to trust him. She’d had to relearn how to trust people after she’d escaped from Tomas. Something about Clay was so open, so earnest. He had that sadness behind his eyes every so often, but it never seemed he was trying to hide anything.

      Her cell phone rang, and she didn’t recognize the number, but she answered. “This is Joslyn.”

      “Oh, good, I did remember your phone number right.” Clay breathed out a sigh of relief.

      “Clay! Are you calling from the police station?”

      “Yeah, my one call. I gotta make this quick. Know any good lawyers?”

      She could call her boss Elisabeth, who probably knew some good lawyers. Elisabeth seemed to have a million contacts. “Did you do it?” Joslyn asked.

      “Not unless I was in two places at once. It happened at noon today, with my rental car. They got an ‘anonymous tip’ about it. I tried to explain the car was stolen from the mall parking lot, but the detective didn’t believe me.” His voice ended on a bitter note.

      “That’s not enough to hold you.”

      “They can hold me for forty-eight hours without cause. I think they’re suspicious because of my record and the explosion at Fiona’s house.”

      “We were the victims there.”

      “You’re preaching to the choir.”

      “Okay, I’ll figure out something.” She already had an idea, thanks to the training she’d gotten at the O’Neill Agency. “Sit tight, don’t say anything.”

      “I know the drill.” Clay paused, then said, “Be careful, okay? We know there’re two guys after us, and if they’re involved in this, then you’re on your own. Watch your back. Stay in public places.”

      “I know the drill,” Joslyn said soberly. As she hung up, she knew he was right. It wasn’t good for her to be alone right now. She missed having him to guard her back.

      She didn’t want to rely on Clay—on anyone, really—but it was strange that she’d come to depend on him in only the few hours she’d known him. His quick reflexes and protective instinct had already saved her from that bomb, and his friendly nature had enabled them to get some information from Ruby and Rufus at the art museum. Elisabeth always told Joslyn that her questioning sounded more like a police interrogation.

      Realizing how much she might need his help made her feel vulnerable. Which was silly. She was vulnerable to those two thugs who were after them, not to Clay.

      Well, she was no longer that timid, shy girl dependent on a big, brawny boyfriend—Tomas