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When Janie finally stood to leave, she pulled Devon into another tight hug. “Call me tonight if you need anything. Or if you just want to talk.”
“I will.”
“And don’t get so focused on work you forget to eat. I know Blake does that.”
“I heard that,” Blake objected as he entered the room.
“You also know I’m right.” Janie went over to him and kissed his cheek on her way out. “You two behave.”
Both Devon and Blake came back with a unified, “Always.”
They watched her disappear with a smile before Blake turned her way. “Think she tells Emmett to behave?”
“Probably.”
“Think he listens?”
“Probably about as well as you.”
Devon tossed her crumpled sandwich wrapper and napkin into the trash. The knot in her chest had eased a little over the past hour. Carol was still gone, and the questions were still there. But her time with Blake and Janie reminded her she wasn’t facing any of this alone.
Blake pulled up his chair. “Boone’s still waiting to hear from the detectives handling Carol’s case. He promised to call when he has something worth sharing.”
“Thank you. And thank him for me the next time you two talk.”
He nodded toward her monitor. “Where did you leave off?”
“Actually”—she spun her seat around—“I found something I don’t like.”
“That’s becoming a theme.”
She opened a second file. “The reference number appears in a separate access record. Different system, same day. Whoever granted it had permission to request reports from more than one location.”
“An administrator?”
“Maybe. Or someone using an administrator’s credentials.”
Blake leaned in. “Can you identify the account?”
“Not from this copy. The name’s masked.”
He thought for a moment. “I can check whether the vendor uses a common identifier across installations. That might tell us where else this account has access.”
“Perfect.”
Devon adjusted her lower body, and their knees inadvertently touched. He kept his close to hers a few seconds longer than necessary, his blue eyes drifting from her gaze to her mouth.
Blake looked back at the screen as heat swirled low in her stomach. She wondered if he was thinking about their two almost-kisses from the night before.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A female voice from the doorway tore through the stolen moment.
Gwen Winslow stood with a smirk.
“Just working,” Blake replied a little too quickly.
Though she kept herself composed, on the inside, Devon was grinning like a giggly schoolgirl.
The other woman’s smile widened. “Emmett needs you to look at a clip Draven pulled from the traffic camera archive.”
