She Can Hide (She Can #4)(25)

Brooke pursed her lips. Her eyes narrowed as she pulled her keys from her coat pocket. “I’ll drive you.”

Abby removed her hand from the mouthpiece. “I don’t need a ride. I’ll be there soon.” Her voice was steady, but unease rattled in her stomach.

“Thanks.” Ethan ended the call.

Abby removed the phone from her ear and stared at the blank display.

“Relax.” Brooke wrapped an arm around Abby’s shoulders and steered her toward the exit. “He probably just has a couple more questions.”

“Maybe, but it sounded serious.” Abby slid the phone into her jacket pocket. They stopped to zip up and pushed through the metal doors. “And urgent.”

The snowbank-bordered parking lot was spotted with icy patches. Wind kicked snow dust across the asphalt.

“It’ll be all right.” Brooke tugged on a pair of gloves. “Oh my God. I can’t remember a January this cold and windy in years.”

Abby flipped up her collar and shoved her hands into her pockets. A gust blew her hair around her face. Not willing to expose a hand, she ignored it. Rock salt crunched underfoot as they trudged across the pavement and got into Brooke’s small SUV. The leather car seat froze Abby’s butt, and she longed for the knee-length coat the creek had stolen. Remembering the icy creek, her body shuddered hard. Why did the police need to see her so urgently? And why at the station? The last time Ethan had questions, he’d come to her house.

She gnawed on her chapped lip for the ten-minute drive into town. The car had barely begun to warm as Brooke turned into the parking lot of the small brick police station.

“Abby, look at me.” Brooke shifted into park and turned a level gaze on Abby. “These are good men. I’ve no doubt they are trying to help you. You can trust them.”

Abby nodded but couldn’t bring herself to agree. Just because the police were supposed to help people didn’t make it so. “Thanks for the ride. I can walk to the car rental agency from here when I’m done. It’s only six blocks or so.”

“If you think I’m abandoning you here, you’re crazy.” Brooke pulled her keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”

Abby opened her mouth to protest. Going it alone was an instinct, a reflex honed by years of neglect. The wind made her teeth ache, and she pressed her lips together. When that cold water had closed over her head, she’d regretted being a loner. She’d moved to Pennsylvania for a complete do-over of her life, and that included having real friends—like Brooke. But pushing people away was a hard habit to break.

Inside, Brooke unbuttoned her parka. Abby kept her jacket zipped to her chin. The puffy fabric was one more barrier between her and the bad news she sensed was coming.

A somber Ethan greeted them in the small lobby. “Please come back to the chief’s office.”

Brooke touched Abby’s forearm. “Do you want me to stay out here or come with you?”

Putting her independent nature aside, Abby remembered the last time she’d been at the mercy of a policeman. “Please come.”

Brooke looked to Ethan.

“That’s fine with me.” He shrugged. “In that case we’ll use the conference room.”

Abby’s knees felt stupidly loose as she followed him down a short hallway. Brooke rounded the oval laminate table and dropped into an office chair on the far side. Abby chose the chair next to her friend, which also gave her a view of the doorway and an unobstructed exit. A laptop computer occupied the center of the table.

“I’ll get the chief,” Ethan said as he ducked out.

A beefy man with muscular shoulders that nearly spanned the width of the doorway entered. He nodded to Brooke. “Hi, Brooke.”

“Hi, Mike. This is my friend Abby Foster.” Brooke emphasized the friend. Abby glanced sideways. She’d known the police, particularly Ethan, often assisted Brooke with her self-defense classes, but Abby had no idea her friend was on a first-name basis with the police chief.

Mike held out a hand toward Abby. “Police Chief Mike O’Connell. You can call me Mike. Most people do.”

Abby half-stood and shook it.

His red hair grayed at the temples, and his nose had a previously smashed look. But as tough as his exterior appeared, his eyes were a soft shade of sympathetic and worried blue. He sat opposite Brooke. Ethan closed the door and took the seat across from Abby.

Brooke cocked her head. “What’s going on?”

Ethan’s mouth flattened out. He met Abby’s eyes. “When the chief and I went through your car, we found your seat adjusted to its farthest position from the dashboard. I could barely reach the pedals. There’s no way you could have driven the car like that. Now it’s possible you moved the seat accidentally while you were trying to get out of the car.”

Impatient, Abby interrupted. “You told me all this the other day.”

Ethan frowned. “We also found your half-empty sports drink bottle in the car.”

“I drink Gatorade before and after I run,” Abby explained. Why did it matter how she hydrated for a workout? But next to her, Brooke tensed.

The police chief’s gaze flickered to Brooke for a second. His expression went grimmer as his attention refocused on Abby. “On a hunch, we had the contents tested.” He softened his voice. “Your Gatorade came back positive for GHB.”