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Cliff pulled her into his arms and held her body flush against his, a hand stroking her hair. “You’re a complete badass. What can you possibly be afraid of?”
“I’m afraid I’ll fail in this mission.” Her fingers curled into his shirt. “I’m terrified Baby Blakely will be lost forever.”
CHAPTER 9
Cliff pulled Jenna into his arms and held her for a long moment. When he set her at arms’ length, he met and held her gaze. “Get this straight—we will find the baby and bring her back to her mother.”
She stared into his eyes. After a long moment, she nodded. “Yes. We will.”
He kissed her forehead and stepped away, dropping his arms to his sides. “I think we should go back to Brittany’s apartment. If nothing else, we can gather her things to take to your house.” He glanced at his watch. “If the bar is open, we can talk with the bartender. He might have seen something or maybe the person who ransacked her apartment.”
“Good idea.” Jenna squared her shoulders and gave him a weak smile. “My apologies. I’m not usually so emotional on a case.”
“And you’re not usually looking for a stolen baby belonging to your sister.” He touched a hand to the small of her back, guided her back to his truck and handed her up into the passenger seat.
He looked up at her as she adjusted her seatbelt. “All it takes is a single clue. It might come from Swede, your detective, a memory Brittany hasn’t divulged or a note scribbled on a napkin. A single clue…and the threads will start unraveling.”
She nodded. “I know this. We just have to find that first clue.”
“Let’s hope it’s in her apartment.” Cliff rounded the front of his truck and slipped into the driver’s seat. Seconds later, they were back on the road, headed for the Bear Claw Tavern and the little apartment above it.
On the drive over, Cliff glanced in the rearview mirror several times as a white sedan kept pace with his truck. When he turned, the sedan turned. When they neared the tavern, the white sedan sped past them, a person wearing a gray hoodie at the wheel. He didn’t look toward the truck; he just kept driving.
A few cars were parked in the bar’s front parking lot.
Jenna selected a number on her cell phone and raised the device to her ear. “Detective Schwope, Special Agent Jenkins. We’re at my sister’s apartment. Are we clear to go inside?” She nodded. “Thank you.” With a quick glance at Cliff, she pushed open her truck door. “Just wanted to make sure it was okay to go inside. We can.”
Cliff chuckled. “Always the rule follower.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she said.
Cliff grinned as he led the way up the steps to the apartment and held out his hand for the key.
Jenna laid it in his palm and waited as he opened the door.
The small room was no cleaner than the last time they’d been there. In fact, it was decidedly dirtier, with black graphite dust scattered over every smooth surface, including the book she’d left for them to check.
Jenna searched through the mess for something she could use to collect all of Brittany’s things. She found a large gym bag and a couple of commercial trash bags her sister must have taken from the bar.
It didn’t take long to gather all the clothes. There weren’t many. A faded yellow sundress she must have worn as a maternity dress, two pairs of jeans that were still folded over a hanger that had been tossed to the floor and two button-up blouses. One a mint green short-sleeve, the other a blue chambray.
The apartment didn’t have a closet or a dresser. The clothes were on hangers that, Jenna assumed, had been hung on a couple of hooks attached to the wall. She found several T-shirts, half a dozen pairs of panties and socks in the drawers of the nightstand. She bent to look beneath the bed and found a pair of snow boots that had seen better days and a puffy gray winter coat with a few tears in the fabric.
Everything fit into the gym bag, including the puffy coat.
Cliff straightened the mattress on the bed frame and gathered the sheets and blanket from the floor.
Jenna held open one of the trash bags while Cliff stuffed the bedclothes in.
With the bed linens and clothing out of the way, there wasn’t much left.
Jenna bent to lift a metal picture frame from where it had landed on the floor. When she turned it over, she smiled down at the young girls with their arms around each other, grinning at the photographer.
Cliff leaned over her shoulder, his breath warm against the side of her neck. “You and Brittany?”
She nodded.
“How old were you in the photo?” he asked.
