In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(48)

She jabbed at the intercom button. “What?”

There was a pause before Chris’s voice came through the speaker. “What do you mean ‘what’? Why didn’t you answer?” He sounded pissed.

“I was sleeping,” she snapped, feeling a little cranky herself. “Why didn’t—this is dumb.” Releasing the intercom button, she buzzed Chris in and then leaned against the door, taking some of her weight off her complaining legs.

The exterior door closed with a harder thud than usual, meaning Chris had helped it along. For some reason, the idea of him slamming doors like a hormonal thirteen-year-old girl made her snicker as she unfastened the interior door locks.

When she saw his face, her initial theory was confirmed. He was indeed pissed.

Although she expected him to tear into her as soon as he was inside, Chris remained silent until she’d locked the door and made her stumbling way into the kitchen.

“What’s wrong with you?” he finally demanded, following her. Instead of heading to the coffeemaker, he stood stiffly by the far counter, his arms crossed over his chest. As always, it really did nice things to his muscles when he stood that way.

Daisy shook off the lecherous thoughts, trying to focus. “What’s wrong with me?” she repeated. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

His scowl deepened, and Daisy didn’t have the heart to tell him it made him more attractive rather than intimidating. “You’re limping. Are you hurt?”

“Just sore.” With a yawn, she figured she might as well take advantage of the brewer if Chris wasn’t interested. “I worked out pretty hard last night.” She started a cup of coffee and grabbed a glass for water. From the way her head was pounding, she knew she had to be dehydrated. She downed two glassfuls while Chris glared at her.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Apparently, it was going to take a few more minutes for Chris to get over his snit. “My phone’s in my bedroom.”

For a moment, he looked more confused than angry. “You just said you couldn’t hear me knock because you were sleeping.”

“I was sleeping.” She traded her water glass for the coffee mug. Between the water and the caffeine, one or both should help with her headache. “Just not in bed.” A yawn interrupted her explanation. “I fell asleep in the training room.”

“Why were you sleeping in the training room?”

Sometimes it was a pain to be friends with a cop. “It wasn’t really a planned decision. I was tired after working out, so I lay down and dozed off.”

“On the floor of the training room.”

Since her mouth was full of coffee, she just gave an affirmative shrug.

“How long did you work out?”

Seriously, he was a bulldog. “I don’t know. A while.”

“A while.” He’d talked about the sheriff’s confession-winning stare, but his wasn’t too shabby. “Did you fall asleep or did you pass out?”

“Does it matter?” She couldn’t hold his gaze. Instead, she focused on tracing the rim of her mug. “Did you want some coffee?”

“Yes, it matters.” He ignored her other question. “What happened? Was it hearing about the Gray case?” His arms uncrossed so he could scrub his hands over his face. “I knew I shouldn’t have gotten you involved.”

“No!” she yelped, panicked at the thought of her new friends disappearing as quickly as they’d entered her life. “It’s not that. I like hearing about the case. I just had a nightmare. It was probably from eating too many brownies.”

“Brownies.” His tone was skeptical, but he let it go as he connected the brownies-to-eggs-to-father dots. “Your dad’s here?”

She shook her head, glad to be focusing on something other than the possibility of getting kicked out of the Nancy Drew club. It wasn’t Chris’s decision, but she didn’t know the women well enough to determine if they’d stay away if he asked. “He stopped by with groceries and demon dolls, but he left right away for a new job.”

“A new job? He didn’t even stay one night?” The muscle on the side of his jaw was doing a weird twitchy thing. “Wait. Demon dolls?”

“Yes. I guess it’s a huge new house going up outside of Parker. And wait until you see these creepy things.” She hurried over to where the box was still sitting on the counter. She’d brought the kids’ books into the study but left the dolls, since the kitchen was the room farthest from her bedroom.

“Daisy. We’re not done talking about… What the hell?”

“Hell.” Daisy moved the box closer to Chris so he could get the full creepy impact. “Exactly. Because that is where they are from and where they want to drag us all.”

“Your dad brought those?” He glanced at her in disbelief and then returned his focus to the dolls, as if he couldn’t stop himself. “Why?”

“He found them at the junk store in Connor Springs.” Feeling she’d tortured Chris enough—even as high-handed and bossy as he was currently being—she returned the box to its place on the counter and closed the flaps before reaching for her coffee again. “He said they looked old, so he thought I could sell them online.”