In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(33)
“El.” George’s voice was low. “Remember.”
She sighed, the exhale shivering with imminent tears. “I know. Dad can take care of himself. It’s just hard not to imagine the worst.”
“It probably wasn’t even a body,” Daisy blurted, needing to say something to make Ellie’s lost look go away. “Even if it was, there’d be no way Anderson King would be driving around in a sheriff’s squad. I’m sure it wasn’t your dad—if it was someone, I mean, and not a tarp full of scraps.” She stopped talking abruptly, aware that her words were just getting more and more muddled.
Ellie didn’t seem to mind the convoluted logic, though. She gave Daisy a shaky smile. “Thank you.”
“Your dad will be calling soon,” Lou assured her. “He’s safe in Mexico or Canada or Cleveland or somewhere.” The rest of the group added their reassurances, until Ellie looked, if not completely convinced, at least a little farther from tears than she had a few minutes earlier.
Ian glanced at his watch and stood. “Shift tonight. I’d better get home and shower first, or no one’s going to want to ride in the truck with me.”
As if that was a signal, everyone else started to rise, gathering the remains of the improvised feast and bringing it to the kitchen.
“You can just leave it,” Daisy protested. “I’ll clean it up later.”
Everyone just ignored her, though, and the kitchen and dining room were spotless less than ten minutes later.
“What are you doing Monday morning?” Lou asked Daisy.
“Nothing special. Why?”
“I still want to talk to you about the Gray case. Are you up for it?”
“Sure.”
“Wait.” Rory frowned at them. “I want to be in on that, but the shop’s open until six. Can we meet here Monday evening, instead?”
“At eight?” Lou suggested, looking at Daisy for confirmation.
“Can I come, too?” Ellie asked, then laughed. “That made me sound like a preschooler, but I really would like to join you guys, if that’s okay?”
“Of course,” Daisy said, answering all their questions at once.
“Sure?” Lou asked. “That won’t be too late?”
Daisy gave the other woman a look. “I thought we’d decided that I wasn’t an Amish grandmother. Besides, I don’t really sleep much. We could meet at midnight, for all I care.” An unhappy sound to her left made her turn her head and catch Chris’s frown. After giving him a reassuring smile, she turned back to the women. “Eight is fine.”
With that settled, everyone except Daisy and Chris said their good-byes and clustered into the small space between the interior and outer doors. Six people made it a fairly tight fit, but Daisy could hear them chatting and jostling each other good-naturedly, so no one seemed to mind waiting to exit until she’d secured the inner door.
When the locks were refastened, Chris reached over her shoulder and slapped the door with his open palm a couple of times. The voices faded as the group left, and the outside door cut them off completely when it closed behind them. Daisy looked over her shoulder at Chris.
“That went well, don’t you think?” Without giving him a chance to answer, she added, “It felt like it went well. At least, I’m pretty sure it did. Right?”
He waited until she fell silent. “You done?” She glared at him, but he just looked amused. “It went very well.”
Slumping back against the wall, Daisy felt suddenly exhausted—happy, but exhausted. “It was nice of you to lead the training.”
He shrugged off her thanks. “I enjoyed it. If I ever get sick of being a cop, I might become a personal trainer.”
“You can practice on us, then.” She smiled at him. “We’ll give you good references when you start training the rich snow bunnies who want to improve their skiing.”
Making a face, he admitted, “That doesn’t sound appealing. Maybe I’ll stick with training cops instead.”
“And me,” Daisy said on a yawn.
“And you, snoozy. Go take a nap.”
Surprisingly, she felt like she could sleep for a week. “Are you taking off, then?”
“Yes, if you can pry yourself off the door.” His smile was teasing.
“I suppose.” With put-on reluctance, she straightened and stepped to the side. “Thanks again, Chris.”
He was watching her in an odd way, but he just said, “You’re welcome, Dais. Sleep well.”
*
She couldn’t take her eyes off the gun. Even when she heard the sheriff’s deputy yelling at him to drop his weapon, and she knew that help had arrived, her gaze remained fixed on the matte black surface of the pistol. She saw his finger, curled around the trigger, pull tighter and tighter until—
Something woke her abruptly. Sitting up quickly before she was fully awake, she swayed a little as she listened for whatever noise had disturbed her sleep. All was quiet, though, and she eventually relaxed.
The clock on her nightstand glowed, showing that it was close to ten p.m. With a yawn, she relaxed back against the pillows, but the spurt of adrenaline that had shot through her veins when she startled awake kept her heart beating quickly and her eyelids open. With a sigh, she resigned herself to being awake for at least a few hours.