In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(23)

The window beckoned. With a huff of irritation, she threw off the covers and got out of bed. “Just for a minute,” she muttered, then laughed. She sounded like an addict—a spying addict.

Pulling a fleece blanket from the foot of her bed, she brought it with her to the window seat. Curling up on the cushioned bench, she wrapped the blanket around her. All the Storvicks’ lights were out except for the glow of a computer screen coming from Corbin’s room. It was really boring watching the kid stare at whatever website he was perusing, and Daisy reluctantly allowed her gaze to move to the vacant house next door.

She was actually relieved that everything was dark and still, with no pseudokillers or late-night handymen roaming the property. A quick glance at Ian and Rory’s place showed that the shutters were firmly in place. Without anything to hold her interest within view, Daisy rested her forehead against the window and allowed her thoughts to wander.

Of course, the first person to pop into her head was Chris and his increasingly weird behavior toward her. It wasn’t like she was throwing herself at him. Daisy thought she hid her feelings pretty well—at least, as long as he kept his shirt in place. She was fully aware that she wasn’t girlfriend material, so, except for that one stupid attempted kiss, she tried to keep her hands and her wishes to herself. And yet, every once in a while, she’d catch him watching her with the hungriest expression. It made her wonder—

Something moved on the far side of the empty house. Jerked out of her thoughts, Daisy sucked in a breath and then groaned.

“Not again,” she muttered, staring at the spot, waiting to see if there was another sign of life. After a few long minutes, her eyes were starting to burn from not blinking.

Sitting back, she dismissed the movement as her imagination. She sighed. Her brain was taking lots of trips into fantasyland lately. Maybe it was time to find another therapist like the sheriff had implied.

Yet even as she told herself there was nothing to see, her eyes remained fixed on the far side of the yard for a long time.

*

“Make the call.”

Macavoy was breathing in short, audible gasps. “Why are you…doing this?”

“Call.”

With shaking fingers, Macavoy touched a number on his screen. In the following silence, broken only by the deputy’s rough breathing, Rob heard two rings before the call connected with a click.

“Dispatch.”

Macavoy hesitated, so Rob gave his temple a nudge with the barrel of his Beretta. “This is Angus…Macavoy.”

“Angus!” The dispatcher’s tone went from coolly professional to friendly. “How are you?”

“I…” Pausing, he gave Rob a pleading look, which the sheriff answered with another, harder press of the gun to Macavoy’s head. “I have…to put in…my resignation.”

“Oh no! You’re leaving us already? It’s the snow, isn’t it? Did you get a new job in California or somewhere?”

“No. Family…situation.” Macavoy’s breathing was worsening, each breath ending with a squeaky wheeze.

The dispatcher paused before saying, “You’re sounding pretty short of breath, Angus. Are you okay?”

“Fine.” The word came out as a gasp.

“You sure? Do you need me to send medical out to your place?”

Rob’s hand jerked, jamming the gun barrel against Macavoy’s head. The deputy winced away and then froze, as if expecting a shot.

“No!” Macavoy yelped, before he sucked in an audible breath and then continued more calmly. “No. I’m…fine. Just stress because…of the family…thing. Don’t send med. I’ll nebulize right after…this call.”

“Okay.” The dispatcher sounded reluctant to let it go, and Rob gave Macavoy’s temple another shove to remind him to wrap up things. “You’ll call back if things get any worse, though?”

“I…will. Have to…go now.”

“Well, you have my email.” The dispatcher’s tone had lightened. “Let us know how things turn out for you.”

With a sideways glance at Rob, Macavoy muttered agreement before ending the call. “I did…what you asked. I’ll…leave. I won’t tell…anyone.”

“It’s really too bad. You were a good deputy.”

Rob pulled the trigger.





Chapter 6


Tyler met him at the back door with a bucket of soapy water, a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, and a garbage bag. How had this happened, that his sixteen-year-old son knew Luminol would light up bleach residue like a Fourth-of-July sparkler? All Rob had ever wanted to do was to protect his kid, but everything had gone wrong.

“What are you doing?” Guilt leant a snap to his voice, and Tyler took a step back.

“Helping.” Tyler held out the garbage bag. After a long moment, Rob sighed and accepted it.

“You shouldn’t help.” Rob stepped farther into the shelter of the porch before he dragged off his boots, BDUs, and sweatshirt. Although Esko Hills was a nice neighborhood, a good place to raise a family, it had more than its share of busybodies and curious gazes. “I’m your dad. It’s my responsibility to take care of things like this, not yours. Your job is to go to school and not get into trouble.” He gave his son a meaningful look.