Page 149 of D for Dead

‘We have to find them, Hickok. I can’t let anything happen to Amy, for Jake’s sake as well as hers. And Boaz, I know he can be an idiot, but he used to be my partner.’

Hickok dropped down beside her, caught hold of her hands. ‘Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll figure it out.’

Rebecca looked at him, studied his expression. It was one of those rare moments where the cocky mask had dropped and revealed the man underneath. The one she wanted to know better.

‘How are we gonna do that?’

‘I’m working on it. You’re right, you know.’ When her eyes narrowed, he grinned. ‘Boaz is an idiot, but we’ll find him. We’ll find Amy too.’

He squeezed her hands, got to his feet and the moment was gone. Muttering under his breath he went over to the desk Rivers had been using, tried the drawer.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I want to get at Boy Wonder’s notebooks, those ones he keeps scribbling in. He must have written a book by now. Maybe we’ve missed something.’

‘You’re clutching at straws, Hickok.’

‘You have a better idea?’

Rebecca didn’t, so shut up.

Hickok swore, shaking his head. ‘Can you believe the anal little prick has locked his drawer?’

It didn’t surprise Rebecca. From what she’d learned about Rivers over the past couple of weeks, he bordered on obsessive compulsive disorder. He was a neat freak, a little paranoid and exactly the type of person to lock his desk drawer.

‘Maybe he didn’t want you snooping through his stuff,’ she pointed out drily, rolling her eyes as Hickok reached in his pocket for a set of keys, finding the right one to work the lock. He opened the desk drawer, pulled out half a dozen notebooks; he opened the top one and started to read.

‘Jeez, Angell, the kid even writes down what he had for breakfast. No wonder he’s filled so many of these stupid books if he’s documenting pointless crap.’

‘Come on, put them back. You’re not gonna find anything. This is a waste of time.’

Ignoring her, Hickok turned the page, chuckled.

‘What’s so funny?’ Rebecca snapped.

‘He’s written about you.’

‘What do you mean he’s written about me?’

‘Bossy and self-righteous, generous ass, but nice pert rack, she’s an eight out of ten.’

What the hell?

‘Let me see.’

Hickok held the book out of reach when Rebecca made a grab for it, grinning at her.

‘Don’t worry Angell; I’d give you at least an eight and a half.’

‘That little shit.’ How dare he write about her? When she saw him Rebecca was gonna kick his ass. ‘Give me the book.’

She made to grab it again, succeeded only in knocking it out of Hickok’s hand. As it landed on the floor, a picture fell out.

Hickok plucked it up from the floor, stared at it.

‘Jesus Christ.’

‘What?’ Rebecca demanded.