In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)

“Are you guys ready to quit?”


Ellie, lying flat on her back on the sparring mats, groaned. Daisy took that as a yes. The rest of them chorused their agreement.

From her position sitting next to Max’s feet, one arm wrapped around his knees, Lou extended her other hand for her water bottle. It was six inches past her reach.

“My most wonderful and loving Callum, could you kick my water bottle a little closer?”

He looked up from where he leaned heavily against the wall. “You’ve almost got it. Just put a little effort into it.”

“I’m out of effort,” she whined. “There’s no effort left in me. If I lean over to get it, I’ll have to let go of darling Max, and then I’ll fall over and look like Ellie.”

Ellie groaned.

Realizing that it might be hours if she waited for the others to regain their feet, Daisy said, “I’ll just go put the sausage biscuits in the oven.”

As she headed toward the door, Lou grumbled, “How are you still walking?”

Daisy laughed. “Chris’s been torturing me a lot longer than you. I’m used to it.”

“Hey!” Chris didn’t sound too offended, though. He moved from where he was talking to Ian, who was either being held up by or holding up Rory—probably both. “I’ll go with you.”

When they got to the kitchen, Daisy turned on the oven and then looked up to see Chris opening the interior door. Her first thought was that he was going to leave her with six almost-strangers to entertain, and panic made her eyes go wide.

“I just need to grab something from my truck,” he said. Her worry must have been obvious, since he made soothing motions with his hands. “Can you get the door behind me?”

“Sure.” Before the door shut all the way behind him, she grabbed it. “Swear you’re coming back?”

There was laughter in his voice when he promised, “Thirty seconds.”

He was as good as his word. Daisy pretended like she hadn’t been leaning against the door, counting, when he returned at the twenty-three second mark. After the outside door locked behind him, she opened the interior door to see that he had a case of sports drinks and several grocery bags of snacks piled in his arms.

“I was kidding about the BYOSD part.” She tried to take some of his load, but he twisted away from her.

“I’ve got this. Just get the door.”

She hurried to relock it, returning to the kitchen to find him unpacking the bags. “Thanks, Chris. You didn’t have to do this, especially after being everyone’s personal trainer.”

He shrugged. “Figured more food is always a good thing. And”—he shook a package of cookies at her and grinned—“while everyone else is distracted by this stuff, I’ll grab all the sausage-and-cheese biscuits.”

With a laugh, she tore open the case of sports drinks and started pulling out bottles. “Ah, I see. It’s all an evil plot.”

He gave his best villain laugh, which sounded more like an asthmatic donkey, and she cringed.

“No, Chris. Just…no.” She paused, a bottle in each hand, as she remembered something. Lowering her voice, she asked, “What’s the tension between you and George and Ellie all about?”

His happy expression faded, making her regret asking. “They’re pissed at me—as they should be. I was supposed to be watching Ellie the night she got shot.”

Daisy sucked in a breath. There had to be more to the story, she knew. Chris was the most conscientious person she’d ever met—not that she’d met a huge number of people, but still. Chris wouldn’t have neglected his duties without a good reason. “What happened?”

Grimacing, he glanced toward the doorway, as if hoping the others would come traipsing in and save him from explaining. “There isn’t a landline or cell coverage at George’s house. My radio battery was dying, so I ran out to the squad to switch it out for a spare. The reception out there is crap, but I thought I heard Rob asking for my status. I had to drive all the way to the county road before I could talk to Dispatch. On the way, I passed Joseph Acconcio’s car.” He gave a humorless laugh. “I was stupidly grateful he was there, that he’d watch her while I was gone. I didn’t know what he…”

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