Sweet Spot. Kimberly Kaye Terry

settling down at his desk. He touched the screen and quickly typed in his password and logged on.

      His former superior had briefed him on what the department knew about Gabrielle and her partner. What he was searching for now was information on her family members, something about which the intel he’d been given had been sketchy at best. What he did know was that she’d been taken from her mother, due to her mother being an addict and unfit to care for Gabrielle. As a young girl, she’d gone into the system.

      And once in the system, a person’s information was always there. He just had to pick apart what was available to ferret out anything useful.

      He’d already learned more about Gabrielle’s personal life than what his superior had briefed him on. The department didn’t know about her mother, or Nick hadn’t let on what he knew, afraid Demetri would allow it to interfere with his investigation of the woman, afraid he’d feel sympathy for her.

      Demetri shook his head as his fingers flew over the keyboard, going in and out of various search engines, private ones as well as government- and military-operated, searching for more information on Gabrielle Marlowe.

      “Damn, that doesn’t make any sense. Nick knows I’m a professional. Wouldn’t allow my own feelings to interfere with my investigation,” he murmured. “Something’s missing. Something with her mother? Shit…” he continued his search, talking out loud as he typed in her mother’s name.

      After searching for over an hour, he came up with several references to Gabrielle Marlowe, but it was for the woman he was investigating, and not her mother. It seemed Gabrielle was quite the community activist, volunteering for various organizations helping the homeless and advocating for Medicare and Medicaid reform.

      None of her extracurricular activities had been added to the bio he’d been given. Again, he wondered why.

      None of it made any damn sense, Demetri thought in frustration. It didn’t add up. Nothing he’d learned from her so far. She volunteered and advocated for disenfranchised folks.

      And ripped off the government at the same time.

      And after one night with her, his knew she wasn’t a heartless criminal out to make a quick buck, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

      “Shit,” Demetri rubbed the back of his stiff neck, rotating it to massage out the kinks. With a tired sigh, he stood and pushed back from his chair.

      He knew where she worked, where she lived. But he couldn’t go to her.

      All he could do now was chill, sit back, and wait for her to come back to him. And hope that she wouldn’t wait long.

      Waiting wasn’t a concept Demetri mastered very well when on the hunt, he thought, a wicked smile stretching his mouth wide in anticipation.