Operation Blind Date. Justine Davis

already given a good description of him to Tyler Hewitt, their tech genius, who had used his own software, tweaked even further by former Foxworth client Dane Burdette’s company, to produce a very lifelike image of the man. Two, actually, one with and one without the ball cap with a boat on the front that Laney said he’d been wearing that day at the mall; people tended to focus on things like that. Printed on photo paper, you’d swear they were actual photographs of him. She’d been more observant than she’d realized, once she got into it, Teague thought. She’d remembered not just the cap but a mole behind his right ear and a small indentation over his left eyebrow.

      “And I think Peachy may have bitten him once,” she’d said. “He had a couple of little scars on his right hand.”

      “I wish I could be more help about him,” Laney said now, sounding upset with herself.

      “You gave a great description,” Teague said.

      “I feel so...self-absorbed. I never really noticed him that much at all, until he asked me out. Colleen, my boss and trainer at the shop there, usually handled the drop-offs and pickups, because she knew all the customers.”

      Teague’s gaze flicked to Quinn, who gave him a barely perceptible nod. He was clearly giving Teague the lead on this, and Teague wasn’t sure how that made him feel.

      “Did she ever say anything to you about him?”

      “I’ve been trying to remember,” she said. “She never gossiped, said it wasn’t good business. The only thing I can think of was that once after he picked up Peachy for his aunt, I said how thoughtful that was. She laughed, and said something about him knowing where his bread was buttered. I’m not sure what she meant.”

      “How about the aunt? Ever see or meet her?”

      “Once. She was older than I expected, he’s only in his thirties. I think she might be Edward’s great-aunt, really.” She started to go on, then stopped.

      “Laney?” Teague prompted.

      “I don’t want to be mean,” she said. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with Amber.”

      “We need everything you can tell us. For Amber’s sake,” Quinn said. “Let us decide if there’s a connection. It’s what we do.”

      Laney sighed.

      “She was older than I expected, but trying to hide it. I think she’d had surgery on her face. It had that kind of tight, wide-eyed look. But her hands...they were old.”

      Teague flicked another glance at Quinn, saw he’d picked up on the two things Teague had.

      “What kind of car did he drive?”

      Laney blinked. “I... Uh, a racy little import. You know, one of those classics-brought-back kind of things. Red.”

      Something in her tone made Teague ask, “You didn’t like it?”

      “A bit much for me. I’m more of a utilitarian kind of person.”

      “Did the aunt impress you as well-off?” Quinn asked.

      Laney frowned “Wealthy, you mean? I suppose. She lived in a nice neighborhood. She did have diamond earrings, and a big ring on her right hand the one time I saw her, but it’s not like she was dripping in them. Nice clothes. I didn’t see her car. And if she did have plastic surgery, I suppose she must be. Why?”

      “Diamonds, nice clothes, nephew drives a fancy car and knows where his bread is buttered.”

      Laney’s eyes widened as Teague ran through the list. “You think he was just helping her out because he gets money from her?”

      “Or plans to,” Teague said. “If she’s older, he may be playing a long game.”

      She got there quickly. “Expecting to inherit?”

      “It’s been done.”

      Her nose wrinkled in distaste. Teague liked her for that. Or he just liked the cute way she did it.

      Slapping that thought back, he made himself focus. “Anything else about him? Did he live with his aunt?”

      “I’m not sure. She lived near the U-District.”

      “The university?” Teague asked. “Good hunting ground if you’re a thirty-plus-year-old guy into fresh-out-of-high-school women.”

      Again her nose wrinkled. She muttered something under her breath that sounded like “ew.” Teague suppressed a smile and wondered what the hell he was finding so amusing about all this.

      “Wouldn’t Amber be too old for him, then? She’s my age.”

      Teague couldn’t picture anybody over sixteen thinking Laney Adams was too old. Too hot, maybe.

      “Never mind,” Laney said, answering herself. “For a woman who looks like Amber, what guy wouldn’t make an exception?”

      Teague was glad she’d gotten there on her own, because he had a feeling anything he would have said would have come out wrong.

      “Did Amber have a passport?” Quinn asked.

      “I don’t think so. But she had one of the travel ID cards. We used to go up to Victoria sometimes, at Christmas. Figured it was as close as we’d ever get to Christmas in London.”

      “So she could have made the trip, technically.”

      “Yes,” Laney admitted. “And I’m not saying she wouldn’t, just that I can’t believe she’d fly someplace that’s only a three-hour drive.”

      “People in love change,” Teague said carefully.

      “Amen,” Quinn said dryly.

      Teague grinned at his boss, admitting the statement had been double-edged.

      “And thankfully so,” Quinn added, with a smile Teague had come to know, an inwardly directed expression of pure love that made clear his thoughts were of the woman who had so changed his life.

      “I know they do,” Laney said, her voice tentative, as if she didn’t want to interrupt Quinn’s pleasant musings. “But Amber never did. And I’ve been through a lot of guys with her. She’s always had guys after her. But she never blew me off for one of them.”

      “Until now. With Edward. If that’s what’s happened,” Teague added carefully.

      “Yes.”

      “And you didn’t go out with him. Wouldn’t.” Teague hadn’t meant to ask that, but he’d been saying a few things he hadn’t meant to lately.

      “I told you, I wasn’t attracted.”

      Quinn seemed to ponder that. “Good-looking guy, nice car, money, potentially a lot of money.”

      He sounded like he was only musing out loud, but Laney answered somewhat defensively, “I don’t need money, or things, or even looks, but character and kindness and honesty. I’m really picky.”

      “And Amber isn’t.”

      And there it was, Teague thought. Damn, Quinn was good at this. Laney drew back, looking almost hurt at first, but then thoughtful.

      “No,” she finally said, very softly. “She isn’t. Particular, but not picky. A difference she often pointed out to me.”

      I’ll take picky, Teague thought. What could be better than knowing a picky woman had picked you?

      He caught himself again, wondering where the hell this tendency to personalize every damn thing had come from. This was work, this was a job, and he’d better attend to it or he was going to royally mess it up.

      He’d promised her they’d find Amber, one way or another. And that was what he intended to do. All he intended to do. Laney was vulnerable, hurting, and his screwy reaction