He shrugged.
She turned into her driveway, turned off the engine, and twisted in the front seat to look at him. “Sala, I’m no doctor, but it seems pretty obvious to me after what you went through in Afghanistan and then being left to die at Gatewood, what happened tonight is perfectly logical.”
“No, you’re not a doctor.”
She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. The rain poured down, a gray curtain enclosing them. “I guess what I’m saying is I’m very glad you were with me tonight.” She grabbed her umbrella. “You’re going to have to run, it’s the only one I have,” and she dashed out of the truck to her front porch, unlocked the door, and ran inside, Sala on her heels.
She could help him simply by being with him, sharing with him, distracting him, keeping him completely involved, which he was. She turned to him at the front door of her cottage and said simply, “I want you to stay with me for as long as you want.”
He started, then smiled down at her. “Thank you. Do you know, until you mentioned it, I hadn’t even thought about my place in Washington. I think my coffee might be as good as Savich’s, which means it’s lots better than yours. If you let me, I’ll prove it to you tomorrow morning.”
She laughed. “Okay, my Turkish sludge isn’t for everyone. You wait until you taste my hot chocolate this winter.”
This winter. That made her blink, but she realized she meant it.
She gave a momentary thought to his sleeping in the guest bedroom. She wasn’t about to tell him she wanted to keep an eye on him, that she worried about nightmares. Without discussion, they pulled the guest bedroom mattress into the middle of the living room and sheeted it. Because the rain had cooled the temperature, Ty got a couple of blankets. She changed into pajama boxers and a T-shirt with ONLY THE PITIFUL LIE TO A COP emblazoned on the front. Sala stripped down to a black T-shirt and his black boxer shorts. Before adjourning to the mattress, they went into the kitchen and stood staring out the window at the fog-shrouded lake and the flat black sky, like two old married people at the end of the day, with their jammies on, winding down in the dark night. And like two old married people, they set their cells into a charger, climbed under the covers on the mattress, and settled in. The sound of the rain was steady, soothing.
Sala said, “Tell me about your deputies.”
“Paula and Doug are both older, been on the force for over ten years, both mainly still on the job to make ends meet. They’re good with the locals since everyone knows them, and they get along with most. Knowing the two of them, they’re having a blast, even though the ending with the truck driver drinking a beer is anticlimactic. I know it’s hard to believe, but until now, Willicott hasn’t been what you’d call a big crime center.”
He laughed. “And Charlie Corsica?”
“He’s young and he’s not a dummy. Actually, he’s bright but needs a lot of work. He plans on being police chief one day. I forgot—hold still.” She came up on her knees, turned on a lamp, and examined the small bandage on his head. It had survived the pounding rain. “I’ll change the bandage to a Band-Aid tomorrow, put more antibiotic on the stitches.” She leaned back on her heels, gave him the once-over. “Now what we both need is a good night’s sleep.”
She gave a big yawn and settled in.
“Ty?”
“Yes?”
“About tonight. What happened—I saw that construction truck and felt a surge of fear. It was overwhelming, sent me immediately into combat mode, made me jump to conclusions.”
“Yeah, it did. Thank you.”
He snorted out a laugh and fell silent. “You’re not going to let me point out what I did was crazy, an overreaction, are you?”
“Nope. You did the right thing. If you want to keep beating yourself up, do it on your own time. I think you should call the forensic anthropologist at Quantico tomorrow, see if he’s harvested DNA off any of the bones yet. It’s probably too early, but worth the call. What do you think?”
“I’ll make the call. We’ll see.”
It was a start. She’d keep distracting him. Ty turned on her side to face him. “I haven’t told you, Charlie did a standard background check on each of the Sparrows, found nothing to raise any red flags.”
She was pleased when he said, “We should go deeper. I’ll call Dillon, ask him to put MAX on it.”
She said, “The brothers are so different from each other. Landry is suave, the crown prince in a three-piece bespoke suit, and Eric a good-looking brawler if I ever saw one. Both have degrees in business from good schools, both raised by loving parents.” She paused. “Now, Susan is different. I read her bio. She was born Susan Ann Humphries, Nashville, Tennessee, orphaned when she was a kid and raised by her aunt and uncle, both dead now. She took their name—Hadden. Went to school there, eventually moved to Haggersville. Nothing yet about her parents. Oh, shoot me, I’m trying to dissect every shadow I see. Sala, do you think Eric regards Susan as more than a sister-in-law, that he’d like to see his brother go away?”
“Not that I could tell,” Sala said, and she was pleased to hear he sounded sleepy, “but family dynamics aren’t ever straightforward. They’re always a drama unfolding. Those brothers, though, I think they’re close, they care about each other a great deal. And Susan? She’s maybe the dark horse, isn’t that what you’re thinking?”
“Or maybe I’m only making myself crazier.” Ty fell silent, listening to Sala’s breathing as it slowed into sleep. Maybe he’d be able to sleep through the night for once without Octavia’s death creeping in to stir up another nightmare and bring it all back. Add the unexpected incident tonight—no, he’d dealt with it fine. It was unfortunate you couldn’t control what you dished up to yourself to terrify you out of your wits at night. Without thought, she leaned over and whispered, “You’re a good man, Sala. I hope you have good dreams. Good night.”
63
* * *
HAGGERSVILLE COMMUNITY HOSPITAL
THURSDAY MORNING
Ty and Sala introduced themselves to Officer Romero’s replacement, an older grizzled man named Gene Fuller, sitting in the hallway outside Leigh’s door on the surgical floor, where she’d been transferred, a hunting magazine on his lap. He showed them in so they wouldn’t startle his partner, a female deputy dressed in a brown uniform sitting in a chair, her back to the single window. They weren’t surprised to see Lulie Saks standing beside Leigh’s bed. She’d probably slept here the previous night.
Lulie smiled at them as they walked in. “Good morning, Agent, Chief. Andrew had meetings back in Washington he couldn’t miss. As for my beautiful daughter here, Leigh’s feeling better, and she’s excited about getting hypnotized.” She turned back to her daughter, patted her hand.
Leigh gave them a little wave. She no longer had a white turban wrapped around her head. She patted the smaller bandage. “Now this looks more discreet, don’t you think. They shaved off hair from the back of my head for surgery, but who cares? I’ve got enough hair left to cover it so people won’t gawk.”
Sala saw Lulie blink, still not used to this bright, articulate woman who was her daughter.
Leigh nodded toward the female deputy. “This is Officer Adele McGowan. She won a shooting championship in Kingsburg, Maryland, two years ago. I’ve known her forever. Hey, Adele, believe me, I’m glad you’re here.”
Adele McGowan stared a moment at Leigh, still a bit disbelieving, Ty supposed. She gave them a small salute, exchanged introductions, and continued watchful.
Sala said to Leigh, “Glad to hear you have no problem letting Dr. Hicks rummage through your memories with you.”
Leigh laughed, then frowned a bit at a lick of pain. She waited, and the pain eased. “What a way to put it, Agent Porto. No, like Mom said, I welcome it. Will he be here soon?”
“Anytime now,” Sala said.