Lori answered with a smile and a short hug. “This is a surprise. Come on in.”

“Thanks for seeing me.”

Reed walked over from their dining room table, dropping his napkin on his plate.

“I’m interrupting.”

“No, no. We just finished,” Reed assured him. “Sit.”

Yeah, Liam didn’t want to sit.

“Listen. This feels awkward for me.” Liam glanced at Lori. “At the risk of sounding like a stalker, I just have to know she’s okay.”

Lori moved to Reed’s side. “Who, Avery?”

Liam nodded. “Yeah. Have you guys heard from her?”

“No. Not since last Monday.”

Liam ran a hand through his hair. “She told me she went to Seattle with some kind of urgency for her last job. She’s texted me twice, but all distant stuff. Which, hey, if it’s me she’s avoiding, fine. Not fine, but okay. Then today I learned that she told Sheldon Lankford that she had a sick aunt she was taking care of in Seattle. Blowing me off . . . yeah, I don’t want that to happen. But work and appointments?”

He realized when he was done talking that he sounded like a lovesick teenage boy. Which was sadly accurate.

Lori shook her head while she turned to her husband. “I knew there was a problem.”

“We don’t know that.”

“It’s been a year. She was having nightmares.”

Liam felt some of his insecurities dissipate, rapidly replaced with concern. “A year since what?” All he could think of was her divorce. But he was pretty sure she said that had been a couple of years past.

“Since New York,” Lori said as if he should understand.

“What happened in New York?”

Both Reed and Lori turned to him.

“She didn’t tell you?” Lori asked.

“Tell me what?”

“Wait, you work out doing krav with her, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And she didn’t tell you why she picked it up?” Lawyer Lori kept asking questions. Each one made his concern grow.

“No,” he said. “When did she finally decide to tell you she was taking krav?”

“Last week.”

“Babe, I’m betting she’s just working through it,” Reed said.

“I’m betting she needs help with that.”

Liam lifted both hands in the air. “Can one of you tell me what happened in New York?”

Lori tilted her head to the side. “If she doesn’t want you to know . . .”

No way, he wasn’t going to let that happen. “Avery told me she didn’t want you knowing about krav because all of you would worry. If you think I should know about New York because of krav, then that ties it together. And now I’m scared shitless.”

“She was attacked.”

“Reed, damn it,” Lori yelled at her husband and smacked the side of his arm with the back of her hand.

“Sorry, hon. He’s right. If it were you, I’d be ripping things apart to get to the truth.”

Lori tossed her hands in the air and walked away.

“Attacked by who?” Liam asked Reed.

It took ten minutes for Reed to spell out what New York stood for. As Liam heard the story of the brutality that drove Avery to learn to defend herself, a much clearer picture of how strong the woman he was falling for became. The only saving grace to the information was that the man who did it was dead.

“So my take is, she’s working through the anniversary. Unlike my wife, I think sometimes that’s a solo journey. My guess is she’ll be back when things are straight in her head.”

“She doesn’t have to do this alone,” Liam told him.

“Yeah, but Avery doesn’t open herself up. The girls know her better, obviously, but even they don’t really have a handle on what’s going on in her head. Since the injury, that got worse.” Reed smiled at Liam. “Until lately. Until you came along. She seems a lot happier and more settled with you in her life.”

He didn’t mind hearing that. “But she doesn’t trust me enough to ask for my help.”

“Don’t take it personally. We didn’t know she was out of town, and we know everything.”

During their conversation, Lori was standing by the floor to ceiling window, talking on the phone.

“Of course I’m worried. Even more now. No. Don’t hurry. I’ll find out what’s going on and call you. Love you, too.”

“Who was that?” Reed asked.

“Trina.”

Reed scowled. “Aren’t they still on their honeymoon?”

“Yes. And before you scold me . . . I had to call her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s the only one who has Avery on Friend Finder. Guess who isn’t in Seattle?”

“Avery,” Liam said without amusement.

“Exactly.”

“So where is she?” Reed asked.

Lori paused, nose flared. “New York.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Avery walked out of the print shop holding a hundred copies of the man she was searching for. Much as she wanted to put a reward sign on him and wait for his friends to turn, she figured that probably wasn’t the best idea. Instead, she left the stack in her hotel room after sending a copy to Armstrong.

He called within two minutes of her sending a text.

“This is him?”

“Yup.”

“You’re sure?”

It was only a profile, but it was all she could remember. Maybe it was all she saw. “I’m sure. So go tell all your cop friends that this is the guy.” Not that they would work hard to find him. Still, she had to try.

“Okay. Thank you. You didn’t have to hire an artist. Your tax dollars do pay for this kind of thing.”

“Great. I’ll be sure and tell my new friends you’re hiring.”

Armstrong actually laughed. “We’ll find him, Avery. I’ll do everything I can to get him behind bars.”

Yeah, well, she wanted a shot at him first. One solid punch to the nose, was that asking for too much? Maybe he would attack her again and she could . . .

She blocked out the consequences of those actions and would deal when they came. It wasn’t like she had kids at home, or a husband.

Liam.

Not a husband. Her friends would understand.

Maybe Spider was already behind bars?

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Not sorry.

“Are you back in LA?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Trying to get rid of me, Detective?”

There was static on the line.

“Just making sure you don’t have any vigilante tendencies.”

“Ha.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” he said.

Avery reached down and unzipped her boots. “Do I look like a fighter to you?”

“I wouldn’t use that word.”

“What word would you use?”

“The first time I saw you, you were a victim. The next time I saw a survivor.”

“And now?”

He paused. “A warrior.”

She liked that. “I don’t plan on starting any wars.”

Armstrong laughed again. “Women have been starting wars since the dawn of time.”

She kicked her boots to the side. “I’m an army of one, Detective. I doubt I can do much damage.”

He sighed. “Go home, Avery.”

“Have a nice evening, Detective. Take the wife out. It’s Friday.” She hung up.

“God damn it!” Armstrong kicked the side of his tire. Avery’s text came through right as he’d left the station for the night. Now he was marching back inside, pissed.

“Is it Monday already?” Judy, the officer at the desk, joked as he walked past.

“Fuck off.”

She laughed.

His butt hit his chair and he woke up his computer.

Gray poked his head in. “I thought you left.”

“Grant has a sketch.”

“Avery Grant?”

“Yeah.” He sent a copy of the picture she texted him to his computer and brought it up on his screen.

Gray rounded the desk to look at the image. “Half a face.”

“Better than nothing.”

“Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Yeah, but we don’t work Manhattan anymore.”

Gray stood to his full height. “Need my help?”

“No. Go. I just need to send this out and look up a few things.”

Gray pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “This can wait till Monday.”

“Yeah, but she won’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“I think we have a vigilante on our hands.”

“That little thing?”

Armstrong pressed send to put the image of their suspect, and the case number, out into the police universe. “Hey, Judy could kick your ass.”

“She could try.”

What could Avery Grant do? What was her background? Something told him he was going to come up cold, but he had to look. His hunches were seldom wrong.

“You sure you don’t need me?”

“No. I got it. Go.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Gray walked out the door but his voice kept coming. “Sally’s gonna be pissed.”