Ava’s irritation level shot up to boiling.

She handed him her card, all friendly pretense gone. “Her cell phone’s been disconnected. Have you seen her recently?”

“Seen how much of her?” He winked and took the card.

Oh, Jayne. You didn’t.

Soul Patch’s concentration on her chest indicated that Jayne had.

She sighed and raised a brow.

He glanced at the card. “Ava McLane. Jayne told me the two of you’d been named after actresses.”

The senior citizen who’d dismissed her a moment before turned his head and took a longer look. Ava stared back.

“You don’t look anything like Ava Gardner,” the senior stated. “At least Jayne tried to look like Mansfield.”

“I don’t try to look like someone else,” she said, nearly biting her tongue. “Have you seen Jayne lately?” she asked the movie buff.

Movie Buff shrugged and turned his attention to the TV.

Nice friends you’ve made, Jayne.

“Do you know where I can find her?” Ava questioned the bartender.

Soul Patch stroked his chin. “Well, she hasn’t been in much since she lost her nearby apartment. Before she moved, she was in here almost every night. I’d say she popped in late one night about three weeks ago. She had a guy with her that I didn’t know and was hanging all over him.” He gave a sly grin. “She was clearly trying to make me jealous, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass. She’s been used too hard, you know?”

Ava stared at him. “You do realize you’re speaking of my sister? You could at least pretend to have some manners.” Fury clouded her vision. “Just because you fucked her, you think that makes you better than her? I bet you hit on anything that comes through that door without dangly bits hanging between their legs.”

“Miz FBI just nailed you!” Movie Buff gave a smoker’s laugh. “She read you like a book.” He wheezed and looked at Ava with admiration.

“Shut up, Oscar,” Soul Patch snarled. He met Ava’s gaze, his flirtatious manner gone. “I don’t know where Jayne is. I had the impression that she’s living in downtown Portland now. Maybe with a bunch of other people. Or else in a shelter.”

A shelter? Ava’s heart dropped. What had Jayne gotten into?

“She said she was living in a shelter?” She tried to keep her words steady. Had her abandonment of her sister left Jayne with no other option?

I didn’t abandon her. She became impossible to be near.

NOT. MY. FAULT.

Soul Patch frowned as he wiped the bar with a damp rag. He appeared to be exercising some memory cells. “I don’t recall that she said those words. It was more of an impression, maybe. Or else someone else said she was.”

Ava’s heart slowed in relief. “You have my card. Please call if you hear about her or she comes in.” She slid one to Oscar the movie buff. “You, too.” He glanced at the card and ignored it.

Thanks for your concern.

Soul Patch slid his into the front pocket of his jeans. “I’ll keep it somewhere warm and safe.” He gave one last attempt at a flirty smile.

Ava bit back her retort, nodded at both men, and escaped out onto the dark, wet street, feeling guilty for taking personal time to search for Jayne. She needed to get back to her search for a killer.

Mason looked again at the clock on the wall behind ASAC Ben Duncan. One minute until the meeting started.

Ava would be late if she didn’t hustle. Four other agents plus Zander Wells and Ray were making small talk as they waited for Ava to show up for the task force update. The small meeting room in the FBI building was adjacent to the command center where tips on the Carson Scott and Aaron King murders were flowing in. Mason pretended not to notice as Ben glanced at the time on his phone and then looked in his direction.

Ava’s last text had said she’d be on time.

She pushed open the door, and Mason’s heart did a tiny jump from the excitement that always struck him when she walked into a room, and from relief that she’d made it. Would his heart always speed up when she appeared or would that fade away with time? A little voice told him that joy was here to stay.

She smiled at the men in the room, her tired gaze lingering on Mason.

Something was up.

It showed in the tightness of her lips. He’d learned to pick up her tiny tells over the last two months, and right now she looked the way she did when her pain meds had worn off or something had unsettled her. She’d given up the prescription meds six weeks ago, so something had upset her. He gestured at the chair next to him and she set her bag on it, pulling out a notepad and her tiny laptop before moving the bag to the floor. She slid into the seat with a tired sigh. The other men settled into their chairs and waited for Ben Duncan to organize his notes.

“What happened?” Mason asked in a low voice.

Tired blue eyes met his, and she squeezed his hand under the table. “Nothing big. I’ll tell you when we’re done,” she whispered. “Don’t worry.”

Mason reluctantly gave his attention to Duncan as he wondered what’d exhausted Ava.

One person did that to her: Jayne.

He set aside his suspicions as Duncan asked him to update the team on the results from the van footage on the Fremont Bridge. Mason recapped his visit with the lab. “We’ve kept quiet the fact that there’s a City of Portland logo on the side of the van. Is that something we want to release to the media?” he asked. “Word will eventually leak out. I asked the fleet manager to not talk about it, but we know how that goes.”