On The Run

Chapter Thirty-Six - "Sneak 'Peak'"

Sarah

  

I was quickly starting to doubt my abilities of analysis. When it came to Jake and I, I came up blank. I couldn’t tell why memories of that special night were still burned in my brain; why he’d been giving me a certain confusing look; and why, if that night was meaningless, I wished it would happen again. I chucked it all up to female needs, but Jake’s look, that I couldn’t read.

“Sarah?” he called, pulling me out of my reverie.

I looked up, drawing my attention back to the Tyler Yates file on the table, “Sorry,” I mumbled.

“Everything all right?” he asked, with a raised brow.

“Yes. Yes, of course.”

“So, I was saying, there is a possibility that he could really have been kidnapped. His adopted parents are fairly wealthy themselves, and it could be a ransom thing. Or, he could have run off in search of his real parents.”

“But we don’t know who the biological parents are?” I asked.

“No, just the mother. A Josephine Brady; she’s a chef at an upscale New York restaurant, and she makes a decent enough living, but I don’t get why she was on Mary’s list. Unless the biological father’s some higher-up, but then, if so, why wouldn’t his name be here?” he pondered, more to himself than to me.

I watched him deep in thought, as frown lines formed on his forehead. He caught me staring and I shook myself; I was starting to weird myself out a little.

“What?” he asked, with a deeper frown.

“Um . . . I was just thinking, she could have been in the middle of that one when she died?”

He turned back to the file, “Maybe.”

I turned my full concentration on the case, pushing the burning passion I was starting to feel at the mere thoughts running through my head, out. “We need to at least see how long he’s been missing and why. So, let’s start with his friends. If he ran away, somebody may have an idea why. If he didn’t, then we can move on to his parents,” I said.

He nodded, “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

I smiled, “I know.”

“Okay, so should we leave now?” he asked, looking at the clock which read 12.42 p.m.

“In a minute. I need a shower,” I replied, tying my hair up.

He gave me a slow, suggestive smile.

“What?” I asked, truly confused.

“You know, if you want to save time, I kind of need a shower too,” he said slowly with a cheesy grin, as he shrugged.

I felt the tingles spreading before I fully began to imagine the scenario. I realized I was staring speechless at him, and I started, “Um . . .” trailing off, my longing growing as the seconds went by.

He snorted, “Sarah, I was kidding! I just had a shower, remember?” he exclaimed.

“Oh,” I murmured, hiding my unexplainable disappointment behind an awkward smile.

He gave me a small frown, still amused, probably at my awkwardness – I mean, what was I, a teenager? “What is up with you today?” he asked.

“Nothing. Of course I knew you were kidding,” I replied and walked off, wondering the same thing; there was definitely something wrong with me.