In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(54)



With a snort, she waved off his warning. “Did you see how many doughnuts Ellie and George brought? Everyone’s going to inhale about ten each before slipping into diabetic comas. No one will even want to hear the word ‘brownies.’”

“Brownies?” Lou’s excited voice chirped from the dining room, and Chris gave Daisy an I-told-you-so smirk.

Closing her eyes, Daisy shook her head. “I’ll hide the brownies.”

He chuckled and slipped out the door. After securing it behind him, Daisy hurried into the kitchen to start another cup of coffee and to slip the covered pan of brownies into a cupboard behind a salad spinner and her Crock-Pot.

“Daisy!” Lou shouted. “Get your toned little butt in here. And don’t forget those brownies.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll bring some more coffee,” she yelled back. “But there aren’t any brownies.”

There were a few seconds of silence before a scowling Lou strode into the kitchen. “Daisy Little. Are you hiding brownies?”

“What brownies?” She widened her eyes in her best innocent expression.

“Fine. Be that way, B. H.” Lou’s sigh was heavy. “We’ll just have to make do with the gazillion doughnuts in there. Now hurry up. Ian gave Rory the arson scoop.”

“B. H.?”

“Brownie hoarder.”

As silly and most likely temporary as it was, it still made Daisy smile that she’d been given a nickname. “Just a few more seconds…”

The brewer gave its final gurgle, and Daisy grabbed the mug. With all the company she’d been having lately, she was going to have to get a coffeemaker that produced more than a single cup at a time.

“Ready! Let’s talk about fires.”

Rory’s scowl was so severe that it made Daisy stop abruptly as she entered the dining room.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, setting down the mug and carefully nudging it in Rory’s direction.

“I feel like I have to give an oral report,” Rory grumbled, playing with the notepad in front of her. “I’m supposed to tell you what Ian found out about the arsons.”

“It’s just us,” Ellie said. “We won’t judge. Besides, Lou won’t let you get out a full sentence before she interrupts, so your oral report will be a very short one.”

“Hey!” Lou protested.

Uncrossing her arms, Rory picked up the notepad and frowned at it. Daisy tapped her screen to start recording, resisting the urge to examine it, to try to figure out exactly why her phone still felt so strangely wrong. Corralling her straying thoughts, she focused on Rory.

“The first of this string of arsons was—”

“Hold up!” Lou jumped out of her chair and retrieved the oversized notepad that Daisy had propped against the dining room wall. “We need to do a timeline.”

Ellie started giggling so hard that she would’ve fallen off her chair if George hadn’t grabbed her and hoisted her upright again. Her laugh was so infectious that Daisy couldn’t help but join in.

“Did I call that or what?” Ellie asked when she’d recovered enough to speak, holding up her fist toward George. When he stared at it and then looked at Ellie, she sighed. “Don’t leave me hanging. Fist-bump me.”

Tentatively, George touched his knuckles against hers, although it was more of a nudge than a bump. Instead of withdrawing, he closed his fingers over her fist, his huge hand completely enveloping her small one. Bringing their hands to his mouth, he slid his down toward her wrist so he could kiss her fingers before lowering their hands into his lap.

Ellie gave him a tender look, and it was obvious that both had completely forgotten that they weren’t the only ones in the room. Despite the usual pang in her belly that she felt as she watched their sweet couple-y-ness, Daisy had to smile.

When they finally broke eye contact and turned their heads to see the other three women eyeing them with varying degrees of amusement, Ellie visibly jumped before blushing.

“Sorry.” Clearing her throat, she focused her gaze on the oversized pad. “What were you saying?”

“What was Rory saying before you mocked me, taught George of the Jungle here a native greeting, indulged in some googly eyes, and then returned to Earth?” Lou recapped cheerfully as she looked around the room in search of something. “B.H., where’d you hide the markers? Is it the same place you’re hiding the brownies?”

Three pairs of eyes fastened on Daisy, who tried not to flinch.

“Brownies?” Ellie repeated, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“No brownies.” To hide the fact that she was lying so badly her pants were most likely going to spontaneously combust, Daisy hurried into the living room. “The markers are still in here.”

She grabbed them off the coffee table and returned to the dining table, where everyone was still staring at her.

“Why are you all looking at me like a bunch of half-starved puppies?” she asked, sliding the markers across the table to Lou. “Eat another doughnut.”

“They’re gone,” Ellie said mournfully, tipping the container so Daisy could see the few scattered crumbs of icing that remained.

“But…how?” Daisy blinked at the empty box. “You guys must have bought every doughnut at the Gas and Guzzle. How are they all gone?”

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