Search And Rescue: In Safe Hands Part 10

"Not that well," Chris said, frowning thoughtfully. "He started last fall, so he's still the new guy. He's pretty quiet, keeps his head down. A lot of deputies don't last a year out here, so it takes a while for them to...integrate, I guess. Why do you ask?"

"When you're moving a bunch of junk, how do you carry it?" Callum asked instead of answering.

Lou made an amused sound. "Here we go with the Socratic method again."

Ignoring her, he just waited for Chris to answer.

"Depends on what I'm moving. I'd try to make as few trips as possible. Big, heavy pieces, though, I'm going to have to move one at a time."

"Small stuff, I'll throw in a box or wheelbarrow." George's contribution made everyone jump. Daisy was pretty sure that was the first time she'd heard the man speak.

Callum nodded. "This guy was carrying something wrapped in a tarp, right, Daisy?"

She sat up straight in her chair. Callum's stern tone made her feel like she was back in school being called on by the teacher. "Yes."

"If you're using a tarp, let's say in place of Holloway's box, how do you load up the junk?"

It was Ian's turn to contribute. "I'd stretch the tarp out flat, pile everything in the middle, and wrap it up like Santa's bag of toys."

Turning to Daisy again, Callum asked, "Is that how he was carrying it?"

"No." The image was still clear in her mind. "It was rolled, like a rug or a burrito. The ends were open, since the boot fell out of the bottom."

"A boot?" Ian frowned. "Is that why you thought it was a body?"

"Yes. It came out when he was putting the tarp in the back of the squad SUV." Now that they were talking about it, she couldn't see how the bundle Macavoy had been carrying could have been a pile of junk. "Plus, it just acted like a dead body. That sounds crazy, I know, especially since I'm not an expert in any way, but he had it over his shoulder, and it hung. Lumber or metal or whatever would've stuck out straight. When he dumped it in the back of the SUV, he kind of bent over and dropped it, like it was really heavy." She made a frustrated sound. "I'm not explaining this right."

"You're doing fine, Daisy." Callum's voice was gentle. "We're thinking along the same lines. What kind of junk can you roll up in a tarp, hinges at the waist, is heavy, and sheds a boot?"

"Holy monkeys, it was a body!" Lou started to bounce in her chair, but then winced and sat still.

"That is why I asked if you know this deputy well," Callum said to Chris, leaning back in his chair.

Chris didn't look convinced. "If Macavoy was moving a corpse, why admit to Rob that he was at the house at all?"

"If he thought he'd been spotted and identified, he probably didn't think he could deny it," Lou offered.

"I'm confused." Ellie frowned, absently picking at her cuticles. When George put a hand over hers, stilling her fingers, she gave him a grateful smile and then turned back to the group. "If it is a body, it's a new one, right? So who is it?"

There were a few moments of silence before Lou broke it. "Argh! Nothing fits together. We keep getting new information, but it just leads to more questions."

"Has anyone been reported missing?" Rory asked Chris, who shook his head.

Ellie made a pained sound. "Just my dad."

Daisy stared at her. "Your dad's missing?"

As Ellie nodded, close to tears, George released her hands so he could rub her back. "Anderson King was hunting him-hunting both of us-and I don't know where either my dad or Anderson is."

Although she leaned into George's touch, Ellie still looked miserable. Daisy had to glance away. It had been one thing to speculate on whether she'd seen an actual body or not, but thinking that there was even a possibility it could be sweet Ellie's father made her stomach curdle. She was glad she'd been too nervous to eat much. Otherwise, she'd have been sprinting for the bathroom.

"El." George's voice was low. "Remember."

She sighed, the exhale shivering with imminent tears. "I know. Dad can take care of himself. It's just hard not to imagine the worst."

"It probably wasn't even a body," Daisy blurted, needing to say something to make Ellie's lost look go away. "Even if it was, there'd be no way Anderson King would be driving around in a sheriff's squad. I'm sure it wasn't your dad-if it was someone, I mean, and not a tarp full of sc.r.a.ps." She stopped talking abruptly, aware that her words were just getting more and more muddled.

Ellie didn't seem to mind the convoluted logic, though. She gave Daisy a shaky smile. "Thank you."

"Your dad will be calling soon," Lou a.s.sured her. "He's safe in Mexico or Canada or Cleveland or somewhere." The rest of the group added their rea.s.surances, until Ellie looked, if not completely convinced, at least a little farther from tears than she had a few minutes earlier.

Ian glanced at his watch and stood. "Shift tonight. I'd better get home and shower first, or no one's going to want to ride in the truck with me."

As if that was a signal, everyone else started to rise, gathering the remains of the improvised feast and bringing it to the kitchen.

"You can just leave it," Daisy protested. "I'll clean it up later."

Everyone just ignored her, though, and the kitchen and dining room were spotless less than ten minutes later.

"What are you doing Monday morning?" Lou asked Daisy.

"Nothing special. Why?"

"I still want to talk to you about the Gray case. Are you up for it?"

"Sure."

"Wait." Rory frowned at them. "I want to be in on that, but the shop's open until six. Can we meet here Monday evening, instead?"

"At eight?" Lou suggested, looking at Daisy for confirmation.

"Can I come, too?" Ellie asked, then laughed. "That made me sound like a preschooler, but I really would like to join you guys, if that's okay?"

"Of course," Daisy said, answering all their questions at once.

"Sure?" Lou asked. "That won't be too late?"

Daisy gave the other woman a look. "I thought we'd decided that I wasn't an Amish grandmother. Besides, I don't really sleep much. We could meet at midnight, for all I care." An unhappy sound to her left made her turn her head and catch Chris's frown. After giving him a rea.s.suring smile, she turned back to the women. "Eight is fine."

With that settled, everyone except Daisy and Chris said their good-byes and cl.u.s.tered into the small s.p.a.ce between the interior and outer doors. Six people made it a fairly tight fit, but Daisy could hear them chatting and jostling each other good-naturedly, so no one seemed to mind waiting to exit until she'd secured the inner door.

When the locks were refastened, Chris reached over her shoulder and slapped the door with his open palm a couple of times. The voices faded as the group left, and the outside door cut them off completely when it closed behind them. Daisy looked over her shoulder at Chris.

"That went well, don't you think?" Without giving him a chance to answer, she added, "It felt like it went well. At least, I'm pretty sure it did. Right?"

He waited until she fell silent. "You done?" She glared at him, but he just looked amused. "It went very well."

Slumping back against the wall, Daisy felt suddenly exhausted-happy, but exhausted. "It was nice of you to lead the training."

He shrugged off her thanks. "I enjoyed it. If I ever get sick of being a cop, I might become a personal trainer."

"You can practice on us, then." She smiled at him. "We'll give you good references when you start training the rich snow bunnies who want to improve their skiing."

Making a face, he admitted, "That doesn't sound appealing. Maybe I'll stick with training cops instead."

"And me," Daisy said on a yawn.

"And you, snoozy. Go take a nap."

Surprisingly, she felt like she could sleep for a week. "Are you taking off, then?"

"Yes, if you can pry yourself off the door." His smile was teasing.

"I suppose." With put-on reluctance, she straightened and stepped to the side. "Thanks again, Chris."

He was watching her in an odd way, but he just said, "You're welcome, Dais. Sleep well."

She couldn't take her eyes off the gun. Even when she heard the sheriff's deputy yelling at him to drop his weapon, and she knew that help had arrived, her gaze remained fixed on the matte black surface of the pistol. She saw his finger, curled around the trigger, pull tighter and tighter until- Something woke her abruptly. Sitting up quickly before she was fully awake, she swayed a little as she listened for whatever noise had disturbed her sleep. All was quiet, though, and she eventually relaxed.

The clock on her nightstand glowed, showing that it was close to ten p.m. With a yawn, she relaxed back against the pillows, but the spurt of adrenaline that had shot through her veins when she startled awake kept her heart beating quickly and her eyelids open. With a sigh, she resigned herself to being awake for at least a few hours.

Kicking off the covers, she slid out of bed. If she wasn't going to sleep, there was no sense in wasting time lying there and staring at the dark ceiling. She might as well be productive.

Daisy cleaned the training room first, snickering to herself at the sight of Max's now-covered lower half. As promised, Callum had brought a pair of sweatpants and had even dressed the dummy himself. While she stood on a bench so she could wipe down the pull-up bar, the memory of the guys having their impromptu compet.i.tion made her smile again.

It had been a fun day. Before the group training session, Daisy had been worried that she'd accidentally do something or say something that would drive them away, never to return again. As much as she loved her books and computer time, it would've been hard to go back to seeing only Chris and her father occasionally. Now, she had Monday night's get-together to look forward to, plus they'd been talking about making the training sessions a regular, couple-times-a-week thing.

As she moved the mats so she could vacuum, she did a mental inventory of the pantry and freezer. The Monday evening meeting would be held too late for a big meal, but she had the ingredients to make teriyaki meatb.a.l.l.s and crab wontons. She wished she had eggs, so she could make some brownies, too.

"What do you think, Max?" she asked over the whine of the vacuum. "Would it be crossing a line to ask Chris to pick up a few things at the store?"

The dummy dangled silently on his hook, his new sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

"I know he brought groceries today without me asking, but it's different when I request it. It changes it from a favor between friends to, I don't know, a duty for the poor housebound girl, I guess. I don't want him to see me as helpless and needy."

Max's silence felt slightly judgmental.

"I know, I know. I am needy and kind of helpless. It's stupid, but I want Chris to look at me and see a whole person, not just this living ghost haunting my house."

Turning off the vacuum, she gave Max an accusatory glare.

"It's a good thing you're useful in other ways, Sir Maximillian, because as a therapist? You kind of suck."

By the time she finished with the training room, Daisy was in full-on cleaning mode, so she decided to tackle the rest of the house. Her dad's room had a slightly stale smell from disuse, and she left the door open to let it air. It was close to one in the morning by the time the house was done.

Feeling grubby, Daisy took a shower and then crawled back into bed. She knew she wasn't tired enough to sleep, so she grabbed a book off her nightstand. It was by one of her favorite urban fantasy authors, and it was a sign of how crazy her life had gotten over the past few days that she hadn't finished it yet. It had been a long time since her real life was as interesting as what happened in her books.

After rereading the same page over and over for a half-hour, she gave up on the book. Her brain was spinning with so many things-the training session, Chris's recent weirdness contrasted with his consideration, the renewed possibility that Deputy Macavoy might actually have been hauling a dead body around at three thirty in the morning, the Gray case and the fact that the other women were interested in getting her, Crazy Daisy's, opinion about it, and even the pros and cons to making brownies for Monday night, if her dad returned in time to make an egg run. How could a book, even a good one, compete with all that?

Daisy sighed. Since she wasn't going to be able to sleep or read with all the thoughts crowding into her brain, she didn't want to stay in bed. She turned off the bedside lamp and moved to the window seat, once again feeling that twinge of guilt. It wasn't a strong enough pang to keep her from opening and raising the blinds, however.

As usual, Ian and Rory's house was shuttered, with no hint of light showing. Daisy waved at the dark building, feeling a glow of pleasure that she'd actually met them, worked out with them, laughed at their jokes. The Storvicks' place was dark as well, but Daisy had no urge to meet any of those family members.

As if magnetized, her gaze moved to the white house with the for-sale sign in the yard. She wished it would sell, so she'd have a new family to watch, rather than scouring the darkness for the possibility of a second body removal. Shaking her head, Daisy reminded herself that there was a very, very slim chance that Macavoy's burden had been a person.

Leaning against the window, Daisy shivered at the touch of the cold gla.s.s. She debated whether to take the ten steps it would require to fetch a blanket, but pulled her knees to her chest instead. It was a poor subst.i.tute, but she was feeling lazy.

The clouds were moving quickly, and Daisy watched, mesmerized, as they scurried through the night sky. She quit trying to control her thoughts and just let them run through her brain. Chris popped up more than she'd hoped, but, for once, she didn't fight it. Ever since she'd stopped leaving the house when she was sixteen, he'd been a regular visitor. He'd always acted like an older brother, teasing and overprotective, but she'd never felt like his sister.

Thinking about the early days of their friendship made her mind drift toward thoughts of her mom. She slammed a mental door, blocking any memories of that day. Shifting on the window seat, she hugged her legs harder and replayed the training session in her head again instead.

A shadow shifted, moving from the trees to the far side of the empty house. Daisy straightened so quickly, she knocked her head against the wall. Absently rubbing the back of her skull, she peered into the blackness.

Before she could even begin to blame her imagination and the poor illumination, the shadow moved again. The light from the closest streetlamp reflected off a pale face.

"Should've worn face paint, whoever you are," she muttered, moving to her knees and leaning close to the window. When her breath started fogging the gla.s.s, she reluctantly shifted back a few inches and used her sleeve to clear the condensation. "Or one of those black bank-robber face masks."

The figure disappeared, and Daisy made a sound of annoyance. She didn't move, as if a shift in position would ensure that she didn't see the trespa.s.ser again. She stared so hard at the spot where she'd last seen the shadow that her eyes began to itch and burn. When she finally allowed herself to blink, her vision blurred with tears, and Daisy hurried to rub away the wetness.

It took her a few seconds to catch the motion on the near side of the house, since she was concentrating so hard on the other. The figure stood out against the white of the house and the remaining snow, showing the differences between the current intruder and Macavoy. This one was lanky and not quite as tall as the deputy. That, and the way he moved, made her think he was a teenager.

Daisy squinted, trying to bring the kid's uncovered face into focus. "Corbin, is that you? What are you up to this time?" She wondered if he was trying to sneak inside so he didn't get in trouble with his parents for breaking curfew. Instead of looking at his home, though, possibly-Corbin was peering into one of the side windows of the white house.

That wasn't going to lead to anything good. Although she hated taking her eyes off the skulking kid, she made a quick dash to grab her phone off the nightstand where it'd been charging. Returning to the window seat, she saw that maybe-Corbin was still in the same place. He'd grown bolder, though, and had cupped both hands around his face to better see into the dark room.

Daisy's finger hovered over Chris's name, but it was his last day off before he started on nights. Instead, she found the nonemergency number for Dispatch and tapped it. Whoever was manning the phones would be up already-hopefully-so she wouldn't be waking someone to report some bored, trespa.s.sing kid.

"Communications."

"Hi," Daisy said awkwardly. "This is Daisy Little, and there's what looks like a teenager sneaking around outside the empty house across the street from me. It's 304 Alpine Lane."

"Daisy Little?" the dispatcher repeated. "The sheriff wanted to talk to you directly if something else happened involving that house. Can he give you a call on this number?"

"Oh," Daisy said, fl.u.s.tered. "I'm pretty sure it's just a bored kid, so you don't have to wake up the sheriff for something so minor. I just don't want any damage to be done to the house. Could you just have one of the on-duty deputies do a drive-by?"

"Sheriff Coughlin was insistent," the dispatcher told her apologetically. "Is this number the best one for him to use? I'm sure he'll call you immediately."

"This number is fine," she said reluctantly. If she'd known it was going to require a conversation with Sheriff Judge-y-pants, Daisy would've woken Chris, instead. "Could you let him know that it's definitely not an emergency, though, and that I don't require a call back?"

"I'll tell him."

"Thanks." After she ended the call, Daisy stared at her cell phone in dread for a few seconds before remembering the trespa.s.ser. When she looked at the white house, the kid was gone-or out of her sight, at least. She watched the property, alternating between the near and far sides of the house, but no one was skulking in the shadows.

The sound of her ringtone made her jump. In her attempt to get another glimpse of the intruder, the sheriff's call had slipped her mind. With the kid gone, she was even more reluctant to answer. Daisy was afraid if she didn't, though, the sheriff would send someone to her front door to check on her. Over-the-phone embarra.s.sment was preferable to in-person embarra.s.sment, so she accepted the call.

"Hi, Sheriff."