“Yes. No big concerns. They’ll know more after the surgery.”

Ava nodded and shut the door in her brain that led to her twin. She sat up, attempting to show Mason she was capable of taking care of herself today. “I need a shower.”

He pulled her close, his grip tighter than usual. “You scared me last night,” he whispered.

Dammit! Tears leaked down her cheeks. “I was scared, too.” She rested her head on his shoulder, seeking energy from his heat.

“I need to go. I’ll call you later to make certain you’re on your way to your appointment,” he said firmly.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I need to. Let me do it for myself.”

A lesson I need to learn . . .

He left and she lay back in the bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing he hadn’t left the light on in the bathroom. She craved darkness.

“I will make it to that appointment.”

She repeated the line out loud several times for the next half hour, determined not to let her man down.

Mason started his vehicle and let out a deep breath.

Ava had rattled his core and rocked the foundation they’d carefully constructed.

Is this what I need in my life?

Maybe he didn’t need it, but he sure as hell wanted it. He wanted Ava with him every day. No question.

He opened the console under his arm and dug through the papers and crap. His fingers touched a small velvet box and he pulled it out, flipping open the top. The diamond glittered. His heart sank.

Not yet.

The case shut with a loud snap, and he buried it among the debris again.

So when?

30

That morning Mason watched the videos of the two men at Rivertown Mall. Ray and Zander watched over his shoulders. The first clip was a quick one from the day of the shooting, in which Justin Yoder was first spotted, walking outside the parking garage. Another camera caught a brief glimpse of him in the main thoroughfare of the mall, and the third watched him stride straight to the men’s room and enter. Mason eyed the time in a lower corner of the screen. Almost exactly ninety minutes before the other man had started shooting. What had Justin done in the bathroom for that amount of time? Read a book?

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t come from the direction of where we found his car,” said Ray. “The parking garage is on the opposite end of the mall.”

“Maybe he didn’t drive his own car,” said Zander. “I’ll lay money that our shooter drove Justin’s car and left it in that neighborhood. Why else would it be wiped down?”

“That shows a strong level of trust,” Ray pointed out. “I don’t loan out my vehicle. Not even to Mason.”

Mason raised a brow. “I’ve never asked.”

“But if you did, it’d be a no.”

“I’d loan you mine if you needed it. Are you saying that if I was in a bind you wouldn’t help me out?”

Ray scowled. “What kind of bind?”

“Never mind.” Mason lost interest in harassing Ray. “The point is that Justin Yoder was comfortable enough to lend his vehicle to our shooter. It indicates some sort of relationship.”

“Or maybe Justin didn’t know our shooter took it,” said Zander. “I’m playing devil’s advocate here, but maybe the shooter helped himself to the vehicle knowing Justin was sitting in a bathroom for the next hour and a half. He could have had Justin’s key copied somehow or picked his pocket at some point. We can’t make any assumptions.”

The other investigators swore at the FBI agent’s logic; he was absolutely right.

Mason clicked on the other video. One step forward, two steps back. The men watched silently as Justin and their shooter strolled casually through the mall. Justin had a soda in his hand and the two of them frequently stopped to study the buildings, indicating entrances and aisles. They slowly moved into the wide aisle with the men’s room and stopped five feet from the kiosk where Ava had hid with Misty. The shooter held his hands up with his thumbs together, looking like a movie director as he studied the area through the space between his hands. He said something to Justin, who bent over in laughter. The shooter’s teeth flashed in a wide smile.

Asshole.

The men continued to walk the area and finally vanished into the bathroom.

“Here’s a case for cameras in restrooms,” muttered Ray.

“No, thank you,” replied Mason.

“You can fast-forward five minutes,” said Zander.

Mason watched a dozen men go in and out of the restroom, moving in quick jerky motions. The two subjects emerged, and he slowed down the video. The men stood and talked for a few more minutes, shook hands, and parted. The clip stopped as the men moved out of the frame.

“There’s nothing else,” stated Zander. “All other shots are of them leaving. Justin parked in the parking garage and we show him get in his car. The other guy walks west, and we don’t see where he parks.”

Mason backed it up again and went frame by frame through one part near the restroom where their shooter nearly exposed his face—but didn’t. “Our techs picked it apart,” said Zander. “They enlarged and studied every angle we could get of the guy. Nothing worth showing.”

“Dammit,” Mason muttered. “How can we have all these minutes on camera and no possibilities for identification?”

“Is it time to take it to the press?” asked Zander.