She Can Hide (She Can #4)(24)

“Thanks for the ride,” Derek mumbled. Swinging his pack over one shoulder, he darted for the door.

Ethan wasn’t offended. Most kids didn’t talk to cops. But Derek’s reluctance seemed excessive. He reminded himself he’d intended to check the kid’s history. A few minutes later, he parked in the station lot and went inside. As he hung up his coat, the chief waved him over. Rubbing his cold hands, Ethan walked back to O’Connell’s office. The chief sat behind his desk. Abby Foster’s open case file stared up from the blotter.

“You were going to follow up with Abby Foster today?” O’Connell removed his reading glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Yes.” Ethan dropped into one of the two chairs facing the desk. “I don’t see any reason she can’t have her personal stuff back. I went through everything. There’s nothing out of the ordinary there.”

The chief leaned back in his chair. “I want you to bring her into the station.”

“Why?” Ethan’s insides clenched.

“The report on her Gatorade came in.”

“That was fast.” Incredibly fast for the overwhelmed county lab.

The chief shrugged. “The lab tech’s daughter is a big horse nut. I might have traded some riding lessons with Rachel to move this up in the queue.” O’Connell’s fiancée was a former international equestrian champion. He scratched his cauliflower ear, a reminder of his collegiate wrestling days. “If someone tried to kill Abby Foster, I wanted to know about it before the responsible party could follow up.” The rough-looking police chief was a total marshmallow when women and children were threatened, a fact everyone knew but no one mentioned.

“Well?”

The chief’s phone rang. As he picked up the receiver, he tossed the file across the desk. It landed on the oak with a thwack.

Ethan opened the manila cover, but he didn’t need to read the words. The sharp, angry edge in O’Connell’s light blue eyes told Ethan that the report contained bad news.





CHAPTER NINE

“Ready to go?”

Abby looked up from the geometry quizzes she was stuffing into her briefcase. Brooke hustled into the classroom. She was wearing her long parka. Her briefcase and purse were slung over one shoulder.

“Almost.” Abby zipped the case. “I appreciate the ride.”

“I’m just dropping you off at the car rental agency. It’s not a big deal.” Brooke smiled. “You’re my friend.”

“You’ve helped me a lot this week.”

Brooke waved her comment off. “One trip to the store and a ride to work this morning? I wish you’d let me do more. How do you feel?”

“Fine. I should have come in yesterday.” But she’d slept most of Sunday and was still so tired on Monday, she’d ended up calling in sick.

“No, you shouldn’t have.” Brooke gave her a that’s ridiculous eye roll. “The doctor said to rest.”

“I don’t understand how I can have a concussion. I don’t even have a headache.” Abby shrugged into her puffy down jacket, which didn’t coordinate with her long skirt and knee-high leather dress boots. But her wool coat had washed downstream, and she wasn’t going looking for it.

“It’s been a few days.” Brooke stepped aside while Abby pulled her classroom door closed.

“Well, in an hour I’ll have a rental car. Then I won’t have to bother you anymore.”

“I told you, I don’t mind,” Brooke said. “Have you heard from your insurance company?”

“They said they’ll have an adjuster out soon. I’m waiting to hear. ” Abby dropped her keys in the old purse she’d pulled out of the back of her closet. Her pocket buzzed. She fished for the new cell phone Brooke had taken her to buy on Sunday afternoon.

“I can’t believe you don’t like smartphones,” Brooke said.

“I’m not a tech person.” Abby didn’t recognize the caller, but the exchange was local. Hope sparked. She’d only given the new number to a handful of people, and her insurance agent was one of them.

“Hello.”

“Ms. Foster?” The voice was male and familiar enough to send a tingle into Abby’s nerve endings. Ethan. Stop it! He isn’t calling for a date.

“Yes?” she answered.

“This is Officer Hale.” He paused. “Ethan.”

With the phone pressed to her ear, she followed Brooke down the hall.

“Can you come to the police station?” The cop’s serious tone ruffled her on-edge nerves.

“Now?” Abby halted. Brooke stopped and faced her. Her head tilted with concern as she analyzed Abby’s face.

“Now would be good,” the cop said.

Anxiety snuffed out Abby’s hope like wet fingers on a candle wick. “Is something wrong?”

“It would be better to discuss it in person.” His voice went flat. “Do you need a ride? I could come get you.”

“Hold on a second.” Heart scurrying, Abby covered the receiver and turned to Brooke. “Ethan wants me to go to the station.”

“Did he say why?” Brooke’s head tilted.

“No.” Abby shook her head.