She typed furiously, her fingers punching every key pointedly as she typed out the rest of her notes and finished up her reports. Everyone else filed out of the office one at a time, leaving Grace alone with Paige. This was exactly what Grace didn’t want to happen, and she was pretty sure it was exactly what Paige designed to happen.

  “This is bullshit,” Grace muttered. Not to mention, how the hell was she supposed to tell Amya why she wasn’t going to be home on time tonight, but better yet, why she wasn’t going to be there tomorrow. It was only going to feed into the argument they were still having. Cursing again, Grace grabbed her phone and shoved it into her pocket.

  She walked all the way down the hall to Amya’s offices and stopped in front of the door. She couldn’t go in there. This problem was her problem, and she needed to resolve it. She just had no idea how that was going to happen. Still, Grace needed to figure out something.

  Pushing her way through the front door of the offices, she noticed Amya’s private office door was closed. Grace smiled at Khloe. “She busy?”

  “Just started a session.”

  Grace nodded. “Got a pen and paper?”

  Khloe handed it over. Grace scribbled on it, writing an apology along with her reason for not being home that night. She’d tackle tomorrow when she did manage to get home and could talk to Amya in person. Last minute, Grace wrote down “I love you” on the paper, folded it and handed it over to Khloe.

  “Thanks,” Grace muttered. “Catch you next time.”

  Walking back to her desk, Grace sat down a little more settled than before. She still didn’t like being forced into overtime, again, or the fact she was missing her favorite day of the year, but if it kept her out of receiving a disciplinary action, she’d have to go along with it. Although, she did plan on making Amya call Morgan to see if this was all her doing or not. It was one of the reasons she hated the FBI. They always came in, took cases without second questions—or first questions—leaving her in the dust.

  Grace pulled up the profiles she’d created for the interviews she’d done so far. She started to file them in order of those who most likely fit the profile of their murderer and kidnapping, assuming still they were one in the same person. She bent over her desk, working hours on the case and losing sight of what time it was even.

  When she finally surfaced, her stomach gurgled, and she realized she’d forgotten to eat all day. That never happened. She was the queen of snacks, but when she thought of it, she’d barely eaten anything lately except when she was at home. She checked her desk but didn’t find any snacks there. After nixing the idea of going to the vending machines, Grace stretched her back. She needed sleep, rest, some sort of break from being in the damn station.

  When her three hours of overtime were up, Grace went to check in with Paige to see if she could leave, only to discover she couldn’t. Groaning, she went back to her desk and poured over the interview she’d done. She planned out the ones for tomorrow and figured out exactly what questions she wanted to ask, then she planned her interview for whenever she might find their suspect. At that point, she was just finding work to do because Paige wouldn’t let her go home.

  At ten, Grace stomped into Paige’s office, her face set. “I’m leaving.”

  “Did you solve your case?”

  “No.”

  “Then why are you leaving.”

  “Because I’m fucking tired, Paige.” Spinning around, Grace grabbed her jacket and keys and walked out of the station. She didn’t care if she got disciplinary action for insubordination at that point. Paige would have to be crazy to try and make her stay any longer when she’d been there since seven in the morning already. Rest wasn’t a privilege. It was a requirement.

  Dragging her weary body into the house, Grace stripped her clothes, locked up her gun, and collapsed into the bed with Amya. “I’m so sorry.”

  Amya didn’t say anything.

  Tears stung Grace’s eyes. She knew Amya was awake, listening. She always was listening. Drawing in a deep breath, Grace choked back the words she didn’t want to say. Ever. “I have to work tomorrow.”

  Amya remained silent. With an aching heart, Grace turned on her side and closed her eyes, begging sleep or something to take her because this was not the life she wanted or the one she thought she was building. Lying awake for hours, Grace stared at the wall in the dim moonlight until exhaustion took her in its grasp.

  Santa Day

  Grace didn’t wake up until eight, and the house was already a bustle of movement. The far side of the bed was cold, which pained her. She didn’t expect Amya to wait for her to wake up, especially when she had to go to the mall to do her volunteer duties, but it still hurt. Tossing a hand over her eyes, Grace drew in a deep breath.

  How was she going to explain this one to Amya?

  Was it even worth it to try?

  Grace had no explanation. Paige was making her work over time all weekend but refused to let her do the one thing that could potentially solve both her cases. It would more than likely solve one of the two, then she could focus all her attention on baby Andrew. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and Amya probably thought she willingly put herself there by not transferring departments.

  In some ways, that was true. But Grace hadn’t been in Missing Persons for very long, and she loved it there. Not the environment, but the cases. These were the kinds of cases that she wanted to work, people she wanted to help. Was it really worth it to give all that up because of the environment?

  For Amya’s sake, she might have to. Although, change was not something Grace dealt with graciously, and all she’d wanted by going into detective work and getting promoted was stability and to avoid so much change, and maybe a job that was a bit easier on her body. So far, she wasn’t sure that last one was the case. She’d gotten less sleep in the last few months than at any other point in her life that she could remember. It’d been constant.

  Dragging herself up, Grace sat on the edge of the bed, her feet planted firmly on the floor. Peter’s loud voice boomed into her room, and she closed her eyes, a headache forming right between her eyebrows. She was going to need caffeine and medicine for that one.

  Every muscle in her body ached, as if she’d been up for days running. Which, in some ways, she supposed she had. Running off coffee and annoyance. Even her beloved orange juice had fallen to the wayside as she drank the dark bean brew to keep herself going.

  The door opening startled her, Grace grabbed the blanket and covered herself as best as she could in case it was someone other than Amya, but Amya’s bright eyes greeted her. Grace sighed and held the blanket in place, casting her gaze over Amya as she tried her best to judge Amya’s mood. She was nearly unreadable.

  “I’m sorry about today,” Grace started.

  “No way to avoid it.” Amya opened the closet door and pushed aside her suits to reach for her uniform.

  Grace’s stomach twisted. That was by far one of her favorite parts of this day—Amya in uniform—and Grace was only going to get to experience it for the next thirty minutes before they left. Unabashed, Amya stripped her pajamas and started getting dressed for the day. The tension between them was so thick. Grace’s chest felt as though a weight had settled on it.

  She realized all too late when Amya turned around that she still held the blanket to cover herself, which was not something she normally did. Amya raised a single eyebrow in her direction, and Grace knew she’d just been caught in the odd action. Huffing a breath, Grace cringed. She just wanted everything to go back to normal, to the way it was. The space between them was too much to bear.

  Amya finished dressing in silence, and Grace stood, pulling on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She was tired of dressing up for a job she didn’t feel deserved it lately. All she could hope was that Paige wouldn’t be there today. That would at least give her some respite and a calm day. Perhaps she could talk with Blake or Link.

  Grace followed Amya out of the room a minute after she left. Peter and Kit stood in the kitchen with their jackets already on and ready to go. Amya finished filling a travel mug with coffee and shot Grace a sharp look. Shuddering, Grace sighed and hoped there was still coffee left.

  “Have fun today,” Grace said, trying to be as upbeat as she could, but it was next to impossible. She was defeated. Paige had managed to do that over the last few months. If Grace were honest, it was longer than that. This had started nearly right after Paige had transferred into the unit.

  Tears stung her eyes again, but Grace held them back. She was done crying over her favorite day of the year. She’d just have to learn to live with it since for the first time in her thirteen years of service to the Sheriff’s Department she was missing out on it.

  “You’re not coming?” Peter asked.

  “I have to go in and work my cases,” Grace muttered, shooting a sidelong glance at Amya, who rolled her eyes in response. “I’ll catch it next year.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Kit shouted.

  Both Grace and Amya cut her a sharp look and said together, “Language.”

  “What? It is.” Kit shrugged.

  While Grace agreed with her, she wasn’t about to voice that problem to anyone. Amya didn’t need the confirmation and the kids didn’t need to be dragged into it.

  “Let’s go,” Amya stated firmly, a hand on Kit’s back to push her toward the front door.

  Grace didn’t even have the energy to ogle Amya in her uniform. As soon as they were gone, Grace brushed away the one tear that slid down her cheek and turned to the coffee pot. Sure enough, it was bone dry.

  “Fucking figures.” Grace pulled the filter and grounds and started a new pot.

  Grace was at the station by nine with a full cup of coffee and her brain slowly starting to catch up with the day. No one else was in her unit, and the silence while welcomed was also unnerving. Grace settled in at her chair and rolled her shoulders to get to work as much as she could without leaving the county that day.

  After an hour, she gave up and called Blake. “Miller.”

  “Blake.” Grace’s lips curved slightly. “I’m half tempted to tell you to work today.”

  “You working?” Blake’s voice rose.

  “Unfortunately. I’d hoped I’d be able to drive down and meet you today instead of Monday but the sup nixed that idea.”

  “Why?”

  Grace shrugged and leaned back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not a fucking clue. I think she’s out to get me.”

  “Paige?”

  “Yeah.” Grace’s stomach tightened with anxiety. “I don’t know what’s going on lately.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Sighing, Grace closed her eyes. Where was she even supposed to begin? “It’s nothing. I’ll be down first thing Monday to go to that retreat center, and if you’ve got time, I may have a few more stops to make.”

  “For the baby case?” Blake’s curiosity was always there.

  “Yeah. There’s a few families I want to check out in person instead of on the phone.”

  “Oh.” Blake’s voice rose. “This I want to be there for.”

  Grace chuckled low. “I’ll make sure you’re invited.”

  “You do that. Send me a list of where we’re going and I’ll get started on it while you drive.”

  “Least you get a day off.”

  Blake snorted, and Grace ignored it. She was about to hang up when Blake’s voice caught her attention. “Halling?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know you can actually talk to me about non-work related things, right?”

  “I know, but this is all work related.”

  “Is it?”

  Damn Blake and her perceptiveness. “For now.”

  “Well, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, gotta run before she comes in.” Hanging up, Grace settled her phone on her desk and stared at it. With her brain mostly functioning at that point, she picked it up again and called none other than Detective Link Abrams. He’d never said in his email if was working that weekend or not, and Grace wanted to know.

  “Halling?”

  The noise in the background of the call told her he definitely wasn’t at the station. “Abrams, you working today?”

  “The mall crowd. Got called in last minute for a sub.”

  Grace’s stomach plummeted sharply. She clenched her jaw and warred with herself. “Oh, so you’re not on mandated overtime?”

  “What’s this about, Halling?”

  “Just curious. I’m stuck here today and thought we could go on some interviews.” Grace fiddled with a pen on her desk, the rumblings in the back of her mind confirmed.

  “I can join you after I’m done here, but they’re really short-handed this year.”

  Way to lay on the guilt, except he didn’t know that was what he was doing. There was no way he could know she always volunteered to be there. Dragging in a deep breath, Grace stared at her computer screen with nothing else to say.

  “What’s this really about, Halling?”

  “Nothing, just wanted to get a jumpstart before Monday.”

  “You were dead tired yesterday, and you’re back today?”

  “Glutton for punishment, I guess.” She tried to play it off as a joke, but she wasn’t quite sure she accomplished that. “See you later if you can manage it.”

  “Yeah.”

  Hanging up, Grace went back to work on her case. Her profiles for each of the persons of interest were lining up nicely. She’d love to be able to run them by Morgan and see if she was doing well enough at it, but she knew Morgan was busy—and if Paige was right, she still had a grudge to hold against Morgan. If Paige was lying, which Grace suspected she was, then there was far more cause to be pissed off but not at her sister-in-law.

  Grace was nose deep in tracking down a wayward cousin of Felicia’s when Paige came in, a huff and a curse as she dropped her keys onto the floor while trying to wrangle her jacket off. Grace had wondered at some point in the last week if Paige was living at the station, but this pretty much confirmed she wasn’t. At least not yet, though the jury was still out on that one.

  Keeping her mouth shut, Grace tried to focus on her computer and her work instead of looking over her shoulder at Paige and the chaos that she brought with her. Paige cursed again when she spilled her drink. Giving up, Paige dropped the coffee mug on the corner of Grace’s desk and hustled into her office. She came back with paper towels to clean up her mess before sighing and tossing them in the trash.

  “What a fucking morning.”

  Grace couldn’t contain her snort. Her morning hadn’t been much better. The mall event was going to last another few hours at least, and Grace knew Link would be stuck there until the last thing if they truly were that short-handed. She only hoped Peter, Kit, and Amya were at least enjoying the day.

  The screech of a chair against the floor startled Grace. She cringed and spun around to find Paige pulling a chair toward Grace’s desk. Grace couldn’t take her eyes off Paige until she was seated with an ankle crossed over her knee and her coffee in her hand.

  “Fill me in,” Paige ordered.

  “On what?” Grace flicked her gaze from Paige’s face to the coffee to her computer.

  “On your case.” Paige flicked her hand out toward the desk. “What’s new with it?”

  “Nothing, because I haven’t been to Johnson County, and I haven’t done any interviews since I came in this morning.”

  “Let’s do up your timeline.” Paige pointed at the papers. “Where are we starting?”

  “Which case?”

  “The missing baby, of course.”

  Grace rolled her eyes and pulled over the papers and sat them in front of Paige. “Here’s the timeline.”

  “No, let’s do it together.”

  “I already did it.”

  “Halling.” Paige’s voice had a warning tone to it.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Grace muttered. Dragging over a blank sheet of paper and a pen, Grace scooted her chair in. Paige moved in closer, hunched, like they used to work together before it all went to shit.

  What was this even, some kind of let’s be friends or let’s make up or go back to the old days? Grinding her molars, Grace scribbled in the center of the sheet the date and time Felicia’s body was found, which was the first and only hard fact they had for the case.

  Paige nodded at it. “Where’s the coroner’s report?”

  If Paige was going to insist they go through every damn thing and recreate a timeline she’d already done up, her day was going to stay in the shitter.

  “Right here.” Grace rifled through some of the papers and pulled out the simplified report. She’d kept the detailed one to her computer instead of printing it, which was very unlike her. Paige’s look told her she knew as much. Grace kept paper copies of everything—except lately. She hadn’t the energy to do it.

  Paige read over the report swiftly. “So she died roughly three days before they found her. Write that down.”

  Dutifully and like a mindless drone, Grace said nothing as she scribbled above the sheet of paper the window of death for Felicia. If she kept clenching her jaw that tight, the headache that had started in the morning was going to make a swift comeback.

  “She had Andrew three weeks prior to her death.” Grace scribbled that date next, trying to speed along the process. She didn’t want to spend more time next to Paige in this close of confines than she had to.

  Two hours later, they finished rebuilding the timeline Grace had already made up with only two slight modifications from her original timeline that didn’t really seem to matter in the long run. Grace’s back ached from being bent over her desk. Standing, she went to the table near the door and poured herself the remnants of the coffee she’d made earlier. It was old and close to sludge, but she drank it anyway.

  Standing where she was, she drew in a deep breath. Something was going to give soon, Grace knew it. The feeling in the pit of her stomach that all hell was going to break loose was so strong, she struggled to make the few steps back to her desk.