Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(63)
Josie dropped off Hec at the police station and Otto drove him home to Delores to spend the afternoon there until dinner. Josie worked at the office for an hour, checking e-mails and returning phone calls, both dreading and yearning for contact from the kidnappers. She carried her personal cell phone and the cell phone from the kidnappers at all times, checking them both obsessively throughout the day, but she’d heard nothing since the video of Dillon’s slashed arm.
At five o’clock she pulled into her driveway and parked behind Nick Santos, who was unloading suitcases and boxes onto her front porch. The idea of him living in her home for an undetermined time still made her uncomfortable, but she had no doubt it was the correct move to make.
Josie got out of her car and said hello as he made his way by her and back to his shiny black Lexus SUV. She followed behind him to help carry his bags. He wore stylish jeans and an untucked button-down shirt that strained the seams around his bulky shoulders. His hair was cut short, neatly trimmed, and his face looked freshly shaved. She could smell the faint trace of a spicy cologne.
“You’ll find I’m prompt. When I say five, I’ll be here at five. That’s just the kind of guy I am.”
“I respect that. You should also know that prompt isn’t always possible for a police officer,” she said.
“So I hear. That’s why you guys have such a high divorce rate. Too many pissed-off spouses waiting on dinner for hours on end.”
She smiled and considered saying there was no divorce rate for negotiators because they couldn’t find a spouse willing to put up with the stresses of the job, but she said nothing.
When they reached the porch Josie asked if he had any news.
“I’m working some leads. Nothing definite yet.”
She took the duffle bag he handed her, already suspecting he would be slim on the details unless he had something concrete to provide.
“I received a call from Becka at the security company earlier today. They’re completely finished with the house.” Josie knocked on the new front door and could hear the density of the steel. It still looked like the wood door that had been replaced, but bullets couldn’t penetrate this one. Using the pad to the right of the door, she keyed in the three-digit code Becka had given her and pressed her thumb to a fingerprint reader. She heard the whisk of locking mechanisms releasing and the door popped opened several inches. She raised her eyebrows at Nick, who cocked an eyebrow back at her. “Impressive. Keep Mr. Drench on your good side.”
“She showed me how to set you up. We’ll get your fingerprint entered and a code so you have access to the house.”
Josie walked into the living room, and aside from the smell of fresh paint, she couldn’t even tell the security crew had been in her home, let alone running wires through every room in the house and installing doors, locks, and bolts Becka assured would protect her from Armageddon if need be. Josie couldn’t imagine how much the job had cost Macon Drench.
Nick left his things in a pile in the living room and pointed at it. “I try to be as invisible as I can. All of my private belongings stay in the bedroom you assign to me. I’m no slob, so you don’t need to worry there.” He looked slowly around her living room. “Okay. Show me the lay of the house. I want to see all doors and windows.”
Josie glanced at her watch and knew she needed to get to Otto’s to meet with Hec.
She picked up the duffle bag and carried it down the hallway to the spare bedroom on the left. She gestured toward the open door. “This is where you’ll be staying. There’s fresh towels and linens on the bureau.”
“I brought my own. You’ll find I’m very self-sufficient. What about a bathroom?”
“There’s a guest half-bath next to your room.” She pointed back down the hallway to the left. “There’s only one shower though. The access is through my bedroom.” She gave him a look, daring him to make the wrong comment.
“When do you leave for work in the morning?” he asked.
“Usually seven to seven thirty.”
“That’s fine. I’ll wait until you’ve gone for the day.”
Relieved they wouldn’t be struggling with the same morning schedule, she pointed across the hall to her bedroom. He followed her inside and looked out both bedroom windows, one facing pastureland and the other the driveway back to Dell’s.
“That’s the old man back there?”
“Dell Seapus. He keeps a good eye on things. He’s got his opinions though.”
“I got a few myself.”
I bet you do, she thought.
Josie pointed into her bathroom. “This is where the shower is.” She stood awkwardly back, feeling as if she was exposing herself to a complete stranger.
As they walked back down the hallway she said, “I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go. We’re interviewing a kid whose dad may be connected in some way to the Medranos. We’re hoping this may lead to a connection to the kidnappers. It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got right now.”
“I’d like to come.”
Back in the living room, Josie stood over his remaining luggage and turned to face him. She hadn’t considered his involvement in the police investigation, and she imagined Otto would not be happy.
“I’ll be honest. My partner isn’t convinced that working with a negotiator is a good idea.”