Mallory had disappeared.
Booth had looked all over the fire house. No one had seen her. She didn't answer her home or her cell phone. He hadn't left any messages. He should have. She would have expected that of him.
He sat in his ratty recliner, his hands shaking. He'd never had a job tank. Rubbing his hands on the arms of the chair, he reviewed his options. He hadn't put a tracking device on her car.
First mistake. “Who knew her old partner would whisk her away."
Could his contact in Homeland Security help? He shook his head. “Then I'd have to admit that I lost her."
No, that wouldn't work.
His hands continued to shake. Worse than usual.
As much as he wanted to convince himself, he knew the truth. The truth about the job. The truth about why he shook.
His hands weren't shaking fr
