In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)

“I assume that’s bad?” she guessed.

“So boring,” Lou agreed. “If I hadn’t already had this planned, I would’ve had to make up something so I could get out of going. Speaking of that, Ellie, don’t you have search and rescue training tonight?”

“Nope. That’s George’s thing. I’d just get myself lost if I tried to find someone in the wilderness. I help him with his reports, but that’s about it.”

“Does Ian have night shift tonight?” Lou asked Rory, who nodded.

“Where’s your guy?” Ellie asked Daisy.

She blinked at the woman in confusion. “My…guy?”

“Please.” Lou chucked a marker at her, and Daisy ducked out of the projectile’s path just before it connected with her forehead. “We all saw how Deputy Chris was showing off for you on Saturday.” Her voice lowered. “‘Me big strong man, do many pull-ups.’” She finished her imitation with a grunt.

“Oh no!” Despite herself, Daisy felt her cheeks getting red. “We’re not… Chris and I are just friends.” Ellie and Lou snorted laughter, making her face even hotter. Even Rory looked like she was holding back a smile.

“Friends,” Lou said, “do not look at their friends like your cop looks at you.”

“She’s right.” Ellie reached over from where she was sitting in one of the armchairs and squeezed Daisy’s hand. “Chris couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. And his expression goes all…smooshy when he’s looking at you.”

Daisy was pretty sure she’d be able to toast a marshmallow on her face, it was burning so hotly. “No, really. We’ve never stepped out of the ‘friends’ box. He doesn’t even like it when I give him a hug.”

“Maybe he likes it too much.” Lou was doing something weird with her eyebrows as she said it.

“What’s wrong with your face?” Rory asked, squinting at Lou.

“Can we talk about dead people now?” Daisy asked quickly.

“Fine.” Lou didn’t sound happy about it. “But trust us on this—Deputy Chris wants you.”

Shaking her head, Daisy let it drop. It was too embarrassing to tell them about all the times Chris refused to let her touch him. A subject change was definitely in order. Besides, it would be nice to think about something other than her own drama for a while. “Could you recap what you’ve learned so far? Chris gave me the highlights, but he’s not really able to share much.”

Lou grabbed a blue marker and uncapped it with a flourish. “Sure. It helps to go over everything again, anyway. I see new connections that way.” She sketched a line of blue spikes.

“What are those?” Rory asked.

“Waves.” She drew some stick people next to the squiggly lines.

“Really?”

Lou glared at Rory. “Yes. I accept that I am not an artist, okay? If you are going to be judgmental, then you can be the draw-er.”

“Why are you drawing pictures?” Ellie asked. “We’re all literate. You can use, you know, words.”

“Fine.” Lou sighed, scribbling beneath the feet of the stick people. “Everyone’s a critic. So, Willard Gray was a Vietnam vet who lived by himself in a run-down cabin at the edge of Simpson. According to town gossip—which is kind of hit-and-miss as far as accuracy—he kept to himself, except when the Esko Hills home development was about to be built next to his property a few years ago. He de-hermit-ified long enough to attend a few City Council meetings to protest the new construction, but the homes were built, and he retreated back to his cabin, shaking his angry fists.” Lou picked up her glass from the coffee table and took a drink. Placing the water back on its coaster, she looked around at the other women. “How am I doing so far?”

“This matches what I’ve heard about him,” Rory said.

“Good. So, sometime between last fall and this past January, someone kills Willard, cuts off his head and hands, and tosses him into Mission Reservoir. In early March, a lucky, lucky dive team volunteer manages to find the body during an ice-rescue training exercise.”

With a cough that might have been disguising a laugh, Rory interjected, “She kicked him.”

Frowning, Lou turned her glare onto Rory. “Ian is rubbing off on you, and not in a good way.”

Widening her eyes in mock-innocence, Ellie asked, “So, you didn’t kick poor Willard’s corpse?”

“Not really relevant.” Lou sent all three women a warning look, which Daisy didn’t feel she deserved. Until that moment, she hadn’t known about Lou’s method of corpse-discovery. “Moving on. We didn’t have a name for the victim at first, since his…um, missing parts made identification tricky. I felt sort of responsible for the poor dead guy, since I…discovered him—don’t say it!”

Ellie and Rory gave her innocent looks.

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