Sawyer started placing the hot packs in her armpits, managing to do so without ever exposing her. Handing her two, he said, “These go in your groin. I assume you’d rather place them yourself.”
Face aflame, Josie took them and tucked them in the creases of her inner thighs. In spite of how awkward she felt wearing nothing but a blanket and some flimsy undergarments in front of him, she was so grateful for the warmth, she could think of little else. He placed two more hot packs under her knees and then one behind her neck, pursing his lips as he worked. Josie didn’t know him well—they’d always seemed to rub each other the wrong way—but she knew that was something he did when he was hiding something. It took her a moment to realize how she knew that. Her father—or the man she’d grown up believing was her father—Eli had done it too.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure it matters,” he said.
“Tell me and I’ll tell you if it matters or not.”
He didn’t respond. Instead, he began picking up her discarded clothes and boots and stuffing them into a bag labeled: “Patient Belongings.”
“Is it about Amber? I thought you said you didn’t really know her.”
“I don’t—I didn’t,” he said. “But I knew who she was, knew she was dating Mettner. He brought her as his date to your wedding.”
“Sawyer, what’s going on?”
“It’s just that I saw her a couple of weeks ago with another guy.”
“You mean a guy who is not Mett?” Josie said.
“Right.”
“Were they kissing? Did they look intimate?”
He shook his head. “No, no. It’s not that. They looked like they were arguing. He grabbed her arm, she snatched it away. Then he reached for her again and she pushed him.”
“When was this?”
“Maybe two weeks ago?” he said.
“Where did you see them?”
“Outside of that bookstore in the central shopping district—a few blocks over from the police station. McAllister Street. But I don’t know the context. I was just driving by. I have no idea what they were saying to one another. It just seemed tense, especially when the shoving started.”
Josie raised a brow. “You didn’t stop?”
Sawyer matched her raised brow expression. “Why would I stop?”
“To make sure Amber was okay.”
He studied her for a long moment, brow now furrowed. “Josie Quinn doesn’t strike me as the type who believes in damsels in distress.”
She rolled her eyes. “That has nothing to do with this. I didn’t say Amber was some kind of damsel in distress. If I saw two people shoving one another on the sidewalk, I would stop to make sure everyone was okay—that it didn’t escalate, that no one got hurt.”
“Of course you would,” he muttered, turning away. Before she could make a caustic remark that she’d regret later, he added, “No. I didn’t stop. I looked in my rearview mirror and Amber was alone. The guy was walking away from her. I assumed that whatever had gone on between them was done.”
The doors to the ambulance opened and Noah appeared. He had already changed into his backup clothes—jeans, a heather-gray T-shirt, and a pair of sneakers. He held out a bag to her. “These are yours.”
Shooting Sawyer a dirty look, Noah climbed inside and sat down on one of the vinyl benches lining the wall. Sawyer gave him a wide berth. They didn’t like one another either. In fact, one of the last times they’d seen one another, they’d come to blows.
“Thanks,” she said. “Sawyer, tell Noah what you just told me.”
With a sigh, Sawyer crossed his arms. He recounted the story for Noah’s benefit.
Noah asked, “What did this guy look like?”
“White guy. Tall. Taller than you. Dark hair. Average build. He was wearing a long black coat, jeans, and black sneakers. Hard to estimate his age because I was far away and driving. That’s all I can tell you.”
Noah handed Josie the bag of clothes. “Why don’t you get changed into these and we’ll go talk to Mett?”
Eight
Sawyer and Noah vacated the back of the ambulance so Josie could get changed. The dry clothes felt heavenly against her skin. The only issue now was that she had no coat or gloves. Her phone had been in the back pocket of her jeans. Miraculously, it had not fallen out. It wasn’t the first time it had gotten wet, and she was confident it would recover from her dip in the river. She took the patient belongings bag that Sawyer had put her things in and stowed it in the trunk of Noah’s car.
“Where’s Mett?” she asked Noah.
“He’s still on scene. In his car,” Noah answered.
They walked over to Mettner’s SUV. His hands were folded in front of him, forehead resting atop them. His eyes were tightly closed, and Josie could see his lips moving. He was praying. In spite of the cold, he hadn’t turned the engine on. Josie rapped on the window. When he saw them both, he stepped out.
“I’m suspended,” he said. “Chief told me. He let me stay here, though. Said I could. Until they find… something, I guess. He’s down on the riverbank with Gretchen.”
Josie knew that the Chief was keeping him there for the same reasons she had brought him along in the first place. If there was any question about Mettner’s involvement in any type of crime, they’d at least be able to account for all of the hours that he’d been with them. When neither of them responded, Mettner said, “You guys okay?”
“We’re fine,” said Josie.
Mettner looked toward the steps leading to the riverbank. The marine unit had a large spotlight on one of their vessels. Every now and then, its blinding white light cut through the trees, reaching all the way to the parking lot. “Maybe you can get a warrant for her place now,” Mettner said. “Now that she’s—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. A sob rocked his body and he tried to push it down, sucking in several deep breaths. Noah gripped his shoulder, squeezing. Josie met his eyes as Mettner tried to regain control of his emotions. Her own sense of helplessness was reflected back to her. Both Josie and Noah knew from experience that there were no words of comfort that either one of them could offer. There was no comfort, no easing of the kind of pain that Mettner had now been saddled with—there was only living with it. Badly and uncomfortably until one day it became your new normal.
Turning back to them, Mett said, “A warrant. You can get one now for her house. Maybe there’s something I overlooked. Maybe you guys could go there tonight and see.”
“We can’t do that, Mett,” said Josie gently.
“What?”
“We can’t get a warrant,” Noah said, giving him some space. “Unless we positively identify her and there is evidence of foul play.”
Mettner’s eyes flashed. “You don’t think there is?”
“Of course I think there is, Mett,” Noah shot back. “But we still have to work within the rules. You know that. Or at least, I thought you did.”
“Screw these rules—” Mettner began, but Josie cut him off, wanting to focus on what had now become a case.
“Mett, you’re closer to Amber than any of us. What can you tell us about her family and friends?”