In Safe Hands (22 page)

“Sometimes. Other times, you're a domestic. Occasionally, you're a disorderly conduct.”

Instead of her spoon, she used her fist to connect with his arm that time. Her fingers stung at the contact, but she refused to shake them and show it, especially when he just laughed.

“Speaking of disorderly conduct,” she said, “has the psycho-in-training across the street taken his revenge on the red-haired girlfriend yet?”

“Not yet.” He chewed with more force than the cereal required. “Her parents called a couple of nights ago when they heard voices outside. By the time I got there, the daughter was in the tree outside her bedroom window, hysterical. She'd been trying to sneak out to meet the Storvick kid but hadn't thought through her escape route.”

Since her mouth was full of cereal, Daisy just raised her eyebrows in a request for him to continue.

“There weren't any branches lower than twelve feet off the ground, so she was stuck.”

Her laugh came out as a snort. It took an effort to hold in her amusement until she'd swallowed. “How'd you get her down?”

“I couldn't. She was screaming and clinging to the trunk. Her parents' tallest ladder was only six feet, so I climbed up on that, but she was still above me. If she'd cooperated, I could've managed it, but I ended up having to call Fire.”

“So they took a break from getting cats out of trees to get a girl out of a tree. Were Rory and Ian there?”

“Yeah. They weren't the ones to climb up and get her, though. Those two aren't the most…” He paused, as if thinking of the right way to put it. “They don't have the most…delicate touch of the firefighters, especially Rory. She would've been more likely to tell the girl to knock off the crying and get her butt out of the tree or else Rory was going to go get the tranquilizer gun.” The image made Daisy laugh again. “Two other firemen, Soup and Steve, were elected. Steve has two girls of his own, and Soup—I don't know why Soup was picked. Maybe because of his teasing big-brother vibe? Whatever the reason, it worked. They eventually calmed her down enough to get her to release her death-grip, and then it was pretty easy from there—at least as far as I could tell. I was on the other side of the yard, talking with Ian and Rory.”

“Did that convince her to dump Corbin for good?” Daisy's bowl just held milk, so she dumped in some more cereal.

Chris's shrug was doubtful. “Hope so. That kid is a problem.”

“Do you think he was the one looking in the windows of the empty house?”

“Probably.” He lifted his shoulders again. “There are a couple of other kids he hangs out with who cause just as much trouble as he does. It could've been one of them, too.”

“Or a completely random kid who was bored and in the area.”

“Yep.”

Thinking of the teenaged trespasser made her brain jump to the possible dead-body disposal and then to the murder case. “Did you find out anything new about Willard Gray?”

He absently tapped his spoon against the rim of his empty bowl. “Just more questions, especially if the arsons are somehow connected. Thanks for recording your meeting yesterday—and for the pictures and notes. I'm planning on going through all that and trying to put it together in a somewhat coherent report before presenting it to Rob.”

“Do you…” Feeling awkward about broaching the issue, since she knew her feelings about Chris's boss were much different than his, she hesitated. Curiosity made her finally just ask. “Do you have any idea who the sheriff suspects? Or if he even has a specific person in mind?”

“No.” He reached to place his spoon and bowl next to the sink, and then he did the same with Daisy's. “It's making me crazy and paranoid, though. I'm looking at everyone suspiciously.”

Since Chris was the only deputy she knew, Daisy didn't feel like she could be much help pinpointing who at the sheriff's department might be the murderer. “Any luck getting ahold of Macavoy?”

His mouth went tight and flat with frustration. “None. He won't return any of my calls or texts. Even though he said he was quitting because of a family issue, I called his mom—his emergency contact—and she didn't know of any ‘family issue.' Also, she hasn't heard from him since he quit and took off. She gave me some names of friends and relatives of his, but they've all been dead ends so far.”

“I'm sorry.” She gave him a sympathetic grimace. “I wish I could help more.”

Hopping off the counter, he looked at her in surprise. “You are helping, Dais. We've gotten more new information from you and your training buddies than we've found in weeks.” He helped her down and stayed standing in front of her, close enough to make her breathe faster than normal. “It helps to talk to you, too, especially now that I have to keep my mouth shut at work, just in case the wrong person is listening.”

His proximity was shutting down her brain, so she just bobbed her head like a dummy. “Good. I mean, I'm glad I can help.”

“More than you know, Dais.” He leaned closer, his gaze flicking from her eyes to her lips and back. Her stomach tightened in anticipation, but he turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Even as the contact of his lips against her skin made her blood buzz with excitement, disappointment flooded her. She'd wanted a real kiss, not something a sister or grandma would receive. Shoving down her dissatisfaction, she told herself to enjoy their restored camaraderie and quit wanting more from him than he wanted to give. That was the road to becoming an angry, bitter old lady.

Chris pulled away and headed for the door. “I'm going to go home and grab a shower.”

Lifting the collar of her shirt so she could sniff it, she nodded, scrunching her face to make Chris laugh. “Me too.”

Her efforts were successful, and he chuckled as he unbolted the door. “Remember, it's a rest day, so no exercise of any kind.”

“I might need to climb the stairs occasionally,” she said, trying to keep her expression serious.

“If you absolutely have to go upstairs, then do it slowly.” He winked at her as he left. “Bye, Dais.”

“Later, Chris.” Closing the door behind him, she started to turn the dead bolts, beginning at the bottom as she always did. When she reached the two chain locks, she fastened the first, but her hand stilled on the second one. Daisy'd had enough of longing and wishing for things to be different. To change, she needed to act. No matter how terrifying it was, the thought of a life trapped in her house, a life without Chris, was even scarier. With her heart pounding in her ears, she released the chain, letting it swing loosely against the door.

She took a step back, and then two, her eyes locked on the dangling, unsecured chain. The floor tilted beneath her, and she sat abruptly, not wanting to fall and hit her head if she fainted again. Her breath came fast and shallow, and her skin switched between hot and sweaty and clammy. To her relief, though, she stayed conscious.

Daisy wasn't sure how long she stared at that one unfastened chain lock before her body stopped freaking out and returned to normal—seminormal, at least. Her hands still shook slightly, and her stomach felt raw and sore, as if she were recovering from the flu. The sweating had stopped, though, and her heartbeat, although elevated, had slowed from its initial hummingbird speed.

With her hands pressed to the floor, she shifted to her hands and knees. When that didn't bring any waves of dizziness, she pushed herself to an upright kneeling position. Her vision blurred a little around the edges, so she waited until she was seeing clearly again before climbing to her feet.

Once she was up, she focused on the open lock again. It looked wrong, hanging there when the door was closed, and her fingers itched to secure it. Daisy resisted, though, turning to face the kitchen. She found it was easier when she wasn't looking at the chain, so she took a step away from the door and then another.

When she reached the study, Daisy lowered herself to sit in the chair. There was an anxious buzz in the back of her mind, telling her that something wasn't right. She could ignore it, though. She wasn't fainting or sweating or hyperventilating, so she could handle the slight uneasiness that urged her to run to the door and fasten the lock.

“I did it,” she said quietly to the demon doll with teeth. A laugh bubbled out of her, unexpected and loud. “I did it!” Reaching for the doll, she almost grabbed it and hugged it, but then she pulled back her hand. It probably wouldn't be wise to let the toy of the devil that close to her jugular. The thought made her laugh again, and she spun her chair in a circle.

It was a single lock on a single door, but for today, it was enough.

* * *

As soon as it got dark, Tyler slipped through the trees to his favorite watching spot. All her blinds were pulled, blocking his view, but he still stared at the house. Anger surged through him at the thought of how much trouble and worry she was causing. There had to be something Tyler could do to help his dad.

Absently, he pulled his favorite Zippo lighter out of his pocket and began flicking it open and closed in a steady rhythm. His dad always told him he needed to think things through before acting. Tyler could manage that. He'd wait and watch and eventually know what he had to do to keep their tiny family of two safe—and he'd do anything necessary.

His gaze dropped to the lighter as the tiny flame flared to life.

Anything.

“Did you forget one?” Ellie asked, nodding toward the dangling chain.

“No.” Daisy had been waiting for someone to notice. It seemed too small a thing to announce out of the blue, but she'd hoped someone would ask so she could share her tiny victory. “I'm leaving it open. It's been that way since yesterday morning.”

Ellie's eyes widened along with her smile as she grabbed Daisy's arm and jumped up and down. “Daisy!” Her name was an excited shriek that brought the others rushing back through the kitchen in a stampeding herd.

“What's wrong?” Chris asked sharply, his cop eyes raking over them.

“Nothing's wrong.” Like Ellie, Daisy couldn't stop smiling. The night had been hard—really hard. The open lock had haunted her, demanding that she go downstairs to fasten it, but she'd resisted. It had made it worse that she couldn't kick the stuffing out of Max to relieve some of her nervous tension, but she'd promised Chris to take a day of rest. Instead, she'd cleaned and paced and listed the dolls for sale and tried unsuccessfully to read and stared blankly at the television. It had been miserable, but she'd done it, and she was very, very proud of herself.

“Look!” Ellie gestured toward the door with a game-show-hostess flourish. Everyone stared at the unfastened lock except for Daisy. She'd found it was better if she kept her gaze away from it.

Lou was the first to react. With a high-pitched scream that put Ellie's earlier exclamation to shame, she lunged forward and grabbed Daisy in a tight hug.

“That's so awesome, Daisy,” she said, finally releasing her so that Daisy could breathe. For a small woman, Lou was surprisingly strong. The others gathered around and gave her their sincere but more subdued congratulations. Chris stayed back, though, and Daisy sent him a worried look. She'd expected that he'd be the first to share her excitement.

“How long have you had that open?” His tone was even, but there was something in it that made the others come to a silent agreement to head toward the training room after a final round of pats and accolades.

Now that it was just her and an impassive Chris, insecurity began bleaching out Daisy's excitement. “I never latched it after you left yesterday.”

He stared at the lock a long time before meeting her eyes again. “Daisy.”

“What?” Her nervousness bubbled over, mixing with hurt. “I thought you'd be happy for me.”

In two strides, he was right in front of her. “I am.” He glanced at the lock again and blew out a hard breath as his gaze returned to her. “Dais. This is…incredible.” Finally, he started to smile.

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah!” With a whoop, he scooped her up into a hug and swung them in a circle. When he returned her feet to the floor, he kept one arm around her shoulders. “That's great, Dais. I'm so proud of you.”

“I know.” She laughed from sheer happiness. “I'm proud of me, too.”

Shaking his head, he looked at the dangling chain again. “I can't believe it only took one session with the new therapist.”

“It wasn't just that.” Their conversation two nights earlier had been more of an impetus than the phone call with the psychiatrist, but she kept that to herself, not wanting to squash Chris's good mood with the reminder. “I was just…ready.”

His arm tightened around her, squeezing her against his side. “Whatever the reason was, I'm just
glad
.”

She smiled at the unfastened lock, happy that he'd realized such a small thing was actually a huge deal for her. “We'd better get to the training room. The others will be waiting.”

“Sure.” He steered her through the kitchen without releasing his hold on her shoulders. “I bet you're going to be bouncing off the walls in there.”

“Finally!” Although she pretended to be annoyed, she couldn't stop grinning. “I've been dying to work out since yesterday.”

With a fake gasp, he flattened his free hand over his heart. “Did you actually take an entire rest day?”

“I did.” Ducking out from under his arm, she entered the training room first. “It nearly drove me bonkers, but I did it. Well, unless manic cleaning counts as exercising.”

He frowned, considering that. “It probably does, but we'll give it a pass this time.” His mock-serious expression melted into a smile. “Grab a jump rope.”

“Yes, coach!” she barked, attracting everyone else's attention. For once, she didn't mind having all eyes on her. She was too happy for anything to kill her mood. When she headed across the room toward the hook holding the jump ropes, she was practically skipping.

“Great,” Lou groaned from the treadmill. “With Daisy all cracked out with excitement, she's going to be running circles around us today.”

“She always runs circles around us,” Rory corrected.

“True.” Despite her resigned sigh, Lou grinned at Daisy.

Adding an extra hop as she crossed the rope in front of her, Daisy laughed.

* * *

Her sleepless night had an upside—she'd cooked enough food for an army. The training group demolished everything she'd made, plus the burritos and cookies that had been Lou and Callum's contribution, in under ten minutes. It was impressive and a little scary.

“Why burritos and cookies?” Ian asked. He'd won a battle with Chris over the final peanut butter one, and he held it close to his chest to protect it. “They don't really go together.”

Lou shrugged. “I like burritos, and I like cookies. Therefore, burritos and cookies.”

“But there's no theme.”

“Are you going to eat that or just cuddle it?” Rory asked. Widening her eyes, she glanced between the treat and his face. His shoulders lowered in defeat as he held out the cookie toward her. Rory pounced on it with glee.

Chris gave an amused snort. “She just played you, buddy. You're helpless when she puts on her big-eyed, starving-kitten-in-the-rain face.”

Instead of getting offended, Ian just stretched an arm over the back of Rory's chair. “Pretty much. I like making her happy.”

The responding “oohs” varied in tone from sweet to mocking, but Daisy was pretty sure all the guys in the room would give up their last cookie to make their women happy, even Chris—not that she was his woman. Despite his recent behavior, she tried to keep her hope under control. The last thing she wanted to do was drive him away by pushing for more than he had to give.

“Any new Willard updates?” she asked, changing the subject to derail her dangerous line of thinking.

“Thanks for reminding me, Dais,” Chris said. “Walsh, would it be possible for me to get copies of those arson reports—and the wildland fire ones—from Chief Early? I went through Rory's notes, but I have some questions.”

“Sure, I can get you copies, but not from the chief. He said his reports on the arson calls are kept in Records at the sheriff's department.”

Chris's eyebrows snapped together. “What? No, they're not. Stacy even double-checked the files, and she couldn't find anything.”

“That's strange.” Frowning, Ian absently massaged the back of Rory's neck. Chewing the last bite of her cookie, Rory looked too blissed out to focus on the conversation. “I always keep a copy of all my reports, so that's where Rory got her notes. I can get you copies of those. They're just the ones for the calls I was on, though. It's not all of the arsons.”

“It's not?” Lou sat forward in her chair. “If they're not at either place, where do you think those reports ended up?”

“No idea.” Chris's expression contradicted his words. He looked like he
did
have an idea, but it wasn't one that was easy to swallow. “Who has access to Fire's records?”

“Just the Chief has direct access, but anyone can request a copy. What about yours?”

“Anyone with a key card can get into the Records room.”

“Which means all the deputies,” Daisy clarified. It was looking more and more like Ellie's father had put them on the right track regarding Willard's death being linked to the arsons.

Chris nodded. “Plus Stacy, the records manager, and Paul, who does maintenance.”

“What's your gut telling you?” Callum asked, looking at Chris, who twisted his mouth in a grimace.

“It's not being too specific.”

“My vote would be Deputy Lawrence,” Lou said, and then looked around the table at the surprised faces. “I'm just saying what everyone else is thinking.”

“He doesn't fit Daisy's description.” It was a testament to how bothered Chris was that he was so easily discussing the case with them. “She said that guy was bigger. Dais, can you show everyone that video you took?”

“Sure.” She took her phone from her pocket.

“Video?” Lou repeated. “Of what?”

“Macavoy that night,” Daisy answered absently as she pulled up her videos.

“Wait,” Lou said. “You had video of the dead-body-toting deputy this whole time and didn't share? Daisy!”

Daisy wasn't paying attention to Lou's scolding, because the video was missing. It had been the last thing she'd recorded, so it should've been right there. Frowning, she flicked through the thumbnails, checking her small collection of saved videos several times. “It's not here.”

“What do you mean?” Chris asked. “I watched it. It was on there—what happened to it?”

Making a sound of frustration, Daisy scanned her videos again. “I don't know. It's just not on here anymore.”

“Could you have deleted it by accident?”

Although Daisy started to protest, to say that there was no way she could have done something so careless, she stopped. No one else had access to her phone. It had to have been her. “I guess I must have. Sorry, everyone. It was really dark, though, so I don't think it would've helped much.”

“You thought he looked taller than Deputy Lawrence?” Lou asked, still sounding hopeful that he could be a viable suspect.

“Yes, but don't assume what I saw had anything to do with the Gray case,” Daisy warned. “For all we know, it was Macavoy doing exactly what he said he was doing. Have you had any luck tracking him down?”

“Not yet. It's like he just fell off the planet. None of the other deputies were close with him. Angel, one of the dispatchers, said she sent a couple of how-are-you messages to his personal email, but he didn't respond. The guy's disappeared. The way he ran and hid makes me pretty certain he's involved in
something
illegal.” Blowing out a hard breath, Chris stood, looking at Ian. “Can I get copies of your reports on the arsons?”

“Sure. But since they're my reports, they won't have the law enforcement angle. Most of them will read, ‘Got there, dumped some water, went home.' You're welcome to look them over, though.” He stood, as well. “I'll talk to the chief, too, and see if we can get some information on the arsons that happened when I wasn't on duty.”

“No.” Ian had barely gotten out the offer before Chris sharply shut him down. “Don't talk to Early about this yet.”

His eyes narrowing, Ian leveled a hard glare at the deputy. “You think the
chie
f
'
s
involved?”

Pacing parallel to the table, Chris shoved a hand into his hair and tugged. “Honestly, no. This whole thing is making me doubt everyone, though, so I can't discount the possibility. I just would rather you not tip him off that we're looking for a connection between the arsons and the Gray case. Not until we get a better handle on this.”

After a pause, Ian gave a tight nod. “Fine. For now. I don't like keeping things from the chief, though.”

“I know,” Chris said. “So thank you.”

“It's probably best if we don't share this with anyone beyond this room, then,” Lou said. “You know how fast gossip spreads around here, especially among the emergency services groups. If this leaks out, the chief will definitely hear about it.”

Ellie looked around their circle and snorted. “I think we have the only nongossipers in Simpson here.”

“I'm probably the loosest lips of all of us,” Lou agreed, “and I can keep my mouth shut.” Callum gave her a teasing look of doubt, and she smacked his arm. “I can!”

“You know I won't be blabbing to anyone,” Daisy said dryly. “Except for my dad, you guys are pretty much my entire social circle.”

“Not for long.” Lou bounced a little in her seat. “You already have one of the locks undone. Pretty soon, you're going to be visiting me at The Coffee Spot.”

“And you can come to the range at my shop, so we don't have to shoot out of your upstairs window,” Rory added.

“Road trip to Denver!” Ellie almost shrieked, flushing when everyone stared at her. “Sorry. I got excited.” With a small smile, George rubbed her back.

Hearing the possibilities out loud made Daisy simultaneously terrified and thrilled. It could actually happen. Until she'd made a step toward going outside, she hadn't realized how resigned she'd been to never leaving the house again. With that one tiny unfastened lock, she'd relit a flame of hope in her chest. Daisy rubbed the spot, almost feeling the physical burn, and jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder.

“You okay?” Chris bent over so he could speak quietly in her ear.

She nodded, feeling the fire in her chest growing stronger. “I'm wonderful.”

When everyone gathered by the door in preparation for leaving, Ellie pulled her back. Surprised, Daisy allowed the other woman to tow her to a corner of the kitchen. After a quick glance at them, George kept his distance, even if that distance was only ten feet.

“I just wanted to tell you how brave I think you're being.” Ellie rushed the whispered words, as if she knew they'd have only a minute of privacy before someone crashed their conversation. “When George has to go on a search and rescue call during the night”—she took a quick glance over Daisy's shoulder, presumably to make sure he wasn't in hearing distance—“I get so scared when I'm alone out there, even with a deputy sitting in a squad car outside. Instead of sleeping, I prowl around the house, checking the door lock for the millionth time. George doesn't know it bothers me. If I told him, he wouldn't leave, and then whoever was lost in the wilderness wouldn't get George's help. They might die, all because I'm a chicken.”