CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Marcus Clement stood outside the hospital room, lowering his phone with a feeling of discontent rising in his stomach. Only partly because the delivery driver had confirmed Riggs's alibi. But mostly because Dakota was gone.
Coffee, she'd said.
He didn't believe her. He knew where she'd gone. He sighed, a long, weary exhalation. He closed his eyes, pulling his spectacles off and gripping them between thumb and forefinger. He lingered in the hall, feeling like a shadow. His heart panged.
He never should have accused Dakota of failure in their last case. Three months was a long time for words to heal, but evidently not long enough. She'd always struggled somewhat with demons from her past, but their last case had only served to exacerbate the issue.
“Oh, Dakota...,” he
