In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(135)
“Is the fire out?” he asked, when it appeared that no one was going to answer his initial question. When they still didn’t say anything—instead staring at him, stock still and wordless—Theo shifted his weight impatiently and reached toward his radio with the hand not holding his gun. “Do I need to call in the fire department?”
“No!” several of the kids, including Jules, chorused in unison. He kept hold of his radio, since the threat of Fire seemed to have brought everyone back to life. Theo could sympathize with their reluctance. Sometimes—a lot of times—firefighters could be a pain in the ass.
“It’s out,” Jules said, taking a step toward him and positioning her body between Theo and the kids. Her slight figure wasn’t much of a barrier, but there was something in the way she held herself that reminded him of a fierce mama bear. “There wasn’t really a fire. It was more…” She trailed off, waving a hand toward the stove as if what had happened was written on its ancient surface.
“It was more of an explosion,” one of the younger boys offered, but his brother—a twin, Theo assumed by their almost identical size and appearance—cleared his throat.
“It wasn’t actually an explosion,” the second one explained earnestly. “The debris just ignited extremely quickly, mimicking an explosion. A small one.”
Theo wasn’t any more enlightened than when he’d first seen the smoke. “Debris?”
Jules cringed. “An old packrat nest.” A visible shudder rippled through her.
“The rat wasn’t hurt,” the smallest of the group, a girl who looked like a smaller, younger Jules, said solemnly. “He left a long time ago. We’re hoping he doesn’t come back, because it would be very upsetting if he did and found out his home had burned.”
“Didn’t you check inside the oven before you turned it on?” Theo asked, holstering his gun discreetly before stepping closer to the stove so he could look inside. Unfortunately, that move brought him very close to Jules. Under a layer of smoke, she smelled really nice, like vanilla and sugar and baking things.
Her mouthwatering scent was overlaid by the stench of charred rodent, however, which refocused him. What was wrong with him, that he was sniffing squirrelly waitresses? He reached for the numbness, but, for the first time, it eluded him, and he was stuck with feeling the irritated fascination Jules inspired in him.
“No.” She glared up at him, her gaze hotter than he thought blue eyes could be. “I normally do not look inside an oven before I turn it on, because who would ever think that a huge rat would build a house inside an appliance? An appliance in which we cook food. Food that we eat!” Her voice had risen to a decibel that made Theo’s ears hurt, but he found himself fighting the beginnings of a smile. Jules was just so outraged that a rat dared take up residence in her stove. Judging by the condition of the house, though—especially the rough state of the kitchen—Theo was not even a little surprised that a rodent had made its home there. In fact, he wouldn’t be surprised if one ran across the floor in front of them. Theo almost hoped one would, so he could play the hero and Jules could thank him in that sweet, Southern accent of hers.
Startled by the daydream, he shook it off and tried to distract himself by belatedly trying to place her dialect. She’d mentioned Arkansas, but her drawl didn’t match.
“Where are you from again?” he asked. It was only then that he realized his question would’ve seemed random and abrupt. Her surprise morphed into that same hunted look she’d had at the diner, and he swallowed his disappointment at the reminder that she was hiding from something—hiding and, apparently, dragging her family along with her.
“Arkansas,” all of them chorused—all except the hulking, oldest boy who protectively stepped closer to Jules, watching Theo warily. Theo narrowed his eyes. Their quick, in-unison answer just screamed that it was a lie. Something was not right about the Jackson family, and Theo felt an itch to investigate—an itch that had been dormant for a while. It surprised him, that urge to ask questions and figure things out. He hadn’t felt anything but rage and sorrow and numbness for two months. He wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or not. If he opened himself up again, he was stepping down the road to heartache. Feeling nothing was easier, less painful. In fact, it was probably smart to leave this jumpy, lying little family. Now.
Before he could escape, though, the girl’s eyes lit up. “A dog!”
As Theo started to turn, Viggy shot past him, heading straight for the huddled family. The small girl stepped forward, hands outstretched.
“Stop!” Theo barked, not sure if he was talking to the dog or to the kid. In the scant seconds it took for Viggy to reach the child, Theo’s stomach twisted. With Viggy acting as unpredictably as he’d been, Theo had no idea how the dog would react. He just knew it wasn’t going to be good. “Viggy, here!”
The dog didn’t even glance at Theo. His focus was locked on the girl, and he shot toward her, as straight as an arrow to a bull’s-eye. Visions of vulnerable flesh bitten and bleeding flashed in Theo’s mind, and he lunged after Viggy. His fingers brushed the harness strap across Viggy’s back, but the dog scooted out of reach, twisting around the little girl’s legs, stretching up to…lick her face? Giggling, the child crouched down to the dog’s level, using both hands to scratch his ruff.