Vanished by Kendra Elliot Page A

Charlie Harper on Two and a Half Men, with the sibling who never moved out. Jayne would break her microwave, eat all her food, and leave her wet laundry in the washing machine for a week. And those were the small issues.
    Never again.
    The big issues would be the variety of men Jayne invited to sleep over and the illegal drugs she’d hide from her sister. Ava closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. Tough love. She wouldn’t let Jayne drag her down. Jayne claimed she’d been clean for two months, but Ava didn’t care. Jayne had a thirty-five-year history of lying to Ava, and it’d taken the last decade for Ava to break the bond her twin held over her.
    Jayne and Ava might have been identical on the outside, but inside they seemed to have different genes. Somehow God had given Ava all the common sense, while Jayne got the judgment of a drunken flea.
    Why? Why can’t my sister see who she is?
    Because Jayne didn’t care. Something was missing inside of her. She operated as if the world revolved around her. She couldn’t see the needs of others. She couldn’t see the hurt and damaged people in her wake. As children, when Jayne was suffering, she pulled Ava down by whatever means possible to suffer along with her. She couldn’t bear to be alone in her misery.
    Ava wouldn’t let Jayne’s current misery affect her life. She’d learned that lesson several times. Too bad it’d taken so long to stick. And as for the art showing? Ava would believe it when she saw it. Every other month, Jayne was excited about a lead on an art show or someone interested in her watercolors, and she always swore she was days away from making a fortune. Jayne had never stuck out a real job. She’d been chasing the art dream forever, convinced she’d make it big and never have to worry about money again.
    Until then, she believed Ava should financially support her.
    “Everything okay?”
    Ava started in her chair, jerking her head up to meet curious brown eyes. She hadn’t heard Detective Callahan enter the kitchen. He had a cup of steaming coffee in his hand. She hadn’t seen him pour it or heard the clank of the coffee pot.
    Feeling distracted?
    “It looked like you were about to rub through the skin on your forehead.” The detective took a sip of his coffee, his gaze never leaving her.
    Ava gave a weak smile. “Personal email. My sister knows how to get under my skin.” The detective nodded and didn’t probe further. She appreciated his manners. Anyone else would have launched into a hundred questions about her sister. He straddled a stool at the kitchen counter, hooking a boot on a rung, and eyed the bounty of baked goods. His salt-and-pepper hair was still damp from his shower. She’d clearly surprised him a half hour ago when he’d opened his bedroom door. He’d been groggy with sleep.
    At least he’d slept. Ava figured she’d nabbed a total of two hours in fits and spurts.
    He hadn’t acted embarrassed that she’d caught him half-dressed. He’d politely greeted her and disappeared into the bathroom where she’d showered earlier. His sleepwear, loose athletic shorts and a T-shirt, had shown a man who took care of himself physically. He might grab an occasional donut with bacon, but he burned off any excess calories. He had the leanness of a runner and the lined face of someone who’d spent time squinting in the sun.
    Overall, Callahan was a well-put-together package. Excessively polite, fit, smart. She studied his face. She wouldn’t call the man attractive. Instead, he had a comforting weathered look. A trustworthiness to his features that tugged at her female side. Gorgeous men didn’t impress her; she was impressed with character. Callahan had it in excess.
    He chose a chocolate-chip scone. She’d pegged him as a cinnamon roll type of guy. He took a bite and smiled, looking at her with happy eyes. “Somebody has been busy.”
    “I’ll guess it was Robin.”
    Callahan nodded and took another bite. “Any