Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(7)

Nash patted Lawson’s chest. “Damn straight, boss man.”

The eldest Hartley scowled. “Stop calling me that.”

Nash’s lips twitched. “Chief better? Big man? Head honcho?”

“I’m gonna start making you call me sir.”

I choked on a laugh and gave Lawson a mock salute. “I think it works.”

“Sir. Yes, sir,” Nash snapped out.

Lawson gave his younger brother a shove. “Get back to work before I have to fire your ass.”

Nash started jogging backward, his green eyes twinkling. “Never. Who would catch all the bad guys?”

I couldn’t help the roll of my eyes. “Single-handedly taking down drug cartels and terrorist outfits every single week.”

“And don’t you forget it.” He waggled his eyebrows. “The rest of the ladies certainly don’t.”

“Nash…” Lawson warned.

“Don’t worry, boss. I’m on the case.”

Lawson pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even want to know what case that is.”

I leaned back in my chair. “Probably the case of some cougar’s missing bra.”

Lawson’s face screwed up. “I really don’t need that mental image in my head.”

I pressed my mouth into a hard line to keep from laughing.

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up.”

I held up both hands. “I didn’t say a word.”

“Your eyes did,” he griped.

The smile wouldn’t stay off my face, no matter how hard I tried. “Nash is like the station mascot. Keeps things light.”

“I guess that’s worth the chaos he leaves in his wake.”

There was fatigue in Lawson’s voice that was more than the typical exasperation I heard when it came to his brother. I straightened in my chair. “Everything okay?”

He waved me off. “Fine. Just a lot going on. Not getting as much sleep as I should.”

The dark circles around Lawson’s eyes told me that much was true. Between being Chief of Police in a tourist town with not enough officers, raising three boys on his own, and his father’s recent heart attack, it was no wonder he was exhausted.

“Want me to take the boys for a few hours later?”

Lawson shook his head. “No, we’re okay. I just need to turn in a little earlier tonight.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. Or if Kerry needs any help with your dad.”

The corner of Lawson’s mouth pulled up. “You might regret that offer. He’s been a bear lately.”

Empathy washed through me. “He’s not used to being laid up like this.” Nathan had mostly healed from the bypass surgery, but rehab for the leg he’d broken when he fell was taking a little more time. I knew better than most how frustrating it could be to have your body hold you back from what you knew your soul needed.

My fingers twitched at my side, itching to circle the raised scar over my heart and trace the line that bisected my chest. I fisted my hand instead.

Concern filled Lawson’s features. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“You’re fine.” But I felt a flicker of annoyance rise. It didn’t matter how much time had passed; the people around me still had this deep need to tread carefully.

On my good days, I could remind myself that it was because they cared. On the bad ones, I was a pitying smile away from biting someone’s head off.

“You distracting my dispatcher from doing her job?” Abel asked as he strode up. Salt and pepper laced his hair now, and his dark skin crinkled around his eyes.

Lawson shot him a grin. “Never.”

“Abel,” I said in a stage whisper. “You’re not allowed to criticize the boss.”

Lawson chuckled. “Everyone knows it’s really Abel who runs the show.”

“Damn straight, and don’t you ever forget it.”

His voice was the same as it had always been, that even tone with just a bit of grit that had seen me through what I’d thought were my darkest moments. And he’d never given up on me. He’d gotten me help as soon as he could and had given me a sense of purpose that I’d desperately needed when my world had crumbled around me.

Lawson gave Abel a salute. “Keep manning the ship. I’ll go push some paper around.”

Abel harrumphed, which only made Lawson grin wider as he headed to his office.

“Give me the lay of the land.”

“Pretty quiet today.” Day shifts were either silent as a mouse or total bedlam. As more and more tourists descended, it would tend toward the latter. Teenagers being stupid. Boaters having too much to drink and thinking a DWI only applied to cars. Lost hikers.

Abel lowered himself into the chair at the cubicle next to mine. “I’ll cover you when you leave for lunch.”

“Thanks. I’ve still got a bit.”

Two officers passed our desks. Clint Anderson lifted his chin. “You in for poker this weekend, Williams?”

“Only if you’re ready to get cleaned out.”

He shook his head, glancing at his partner. “She’s brutal. Shows no mercy.”

Amber Raymond smiled in my direction, but it was forced—and it always would be. I didn’t blame her. On a night we’d all seen the face of evil, her younger brother had died, and I hadn’t. My wounds should’ve meant me being in the ground, too, but something had kept me holding on.