she’d done.
Quiet had never been a problem on his part when riding in a car. His parents had taught him that silence was golden. And then he’d learned that it was his grandmother who had imposed that rule on his father. This moment was a bit different. Not awkward, not forced—just comfortable.
Darby leaned back on the headrest. She was relaxed. No note-taking, no tapping, no twirly thing with a pen. Her breathing even deepened for a minute where he thought she was asleep. Less than ten minutes and they’d be down the street from her house.
“The Medic seemed like a nice guy,” she said. Her eyes were still closed, and her voice a bit heavier.
“Don’t worry about your brother. He’s in good hands.”
“No worries, Sean and the Sergeant Major are staying with him.”
“So you’re covered. They know what’s at risk,” he said.
“Have you thought past this point?” she asked. “What do we do now? We can’t depend on Michael to wake up.”
The possibility of her brother not waking for some time had hit her hard inside the van. If anyone could muster him from his deep sleep it would be the Sergeant Major. Her dad wasn’t leaving Michael’s side.
“One thing at a time. Now, we’ll get clothes, food, more rest.”
She recognized the adrenaline rush wearing off. Her relaxed muscles matched the deep breaths that let her sink into the soft leather seat. But there was a tremor deep inside. A persistent anticipation that hadn’t and wouldn’t leave her alone since Erren had sat on her in her kitchen.
No, she didn’t want to think, watch, analyze her partner or act like a nurse. She felt alive and wanted to do a lot of
“You aren’t in a hurry to find the next clue?”
“We need to regroup.” Erren tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I meant to tell you that it was a good idea to look inside the frames. Pike might have slipped a map, message or whatever behind another photo. We just have to find where.”
Looked like they’d be thinking instead of kissing after all. She sat straighter and stretched her arms within the confinement of the Cougar. “I still believe we’re looking for digitized information.”
“Are you thinking your brother had the information and tried to get it to Pike? Doesn’t exactly fit our routine. Who else would have pictures of Michael?”
“The Sergeant Major, but there aren’t many. We moved a lot and my father wasn’t too keen on holding on to keep-sakes. They would have mentioned if a strange picture of my brother had shown up recently.” She pulled her notebook off the backseat and doodled to get her mind working. She found her brother’s coded message and kept tracing the figures.
“We can assume the dopers tossed Michael’s place first and didn’t find anything since they hit Pike’s place, too. Did Pike keep pictures on his desk?”
“Only of Marilyn. Nothing is left at the academy. I boxed all his personal belongings for the investigation, scrutinizing everything and finding nothing. No notes, no files and absolutely nothing about those men and women on the cabin wall. I’m out of angles.”
“There’s always another angle. Pike may have been compromised. One of the guys on the wall may be a turncoat.”
“Twenty-one pictures on the wall, minus you, Michael, Brian, the Medic, and our deceased officer.” She turned to her list of Pike’s Guys descriptions, but caught his skeptical look. “That leaves sixteen leads out there somewhere.”
He shrugged the way he had the night before. Ambivalent. The words doubting her brother’s complete innocence didn’t have to be said.
“Even if he weren’t my brother, I’d eliminate him as a suspect. He was shot.”
“We’re missing something. Something big. It’s right at the edge of my consciousness, but I can’t pinpoint it.” Erren tapped his fingers on his thigh. “I’m taking a pass by your house to see if anyone’s watching it. Sink down out of view.”
Knight Errant was acting a bit nervous. Why? She released her seat to completely lie back, disappearing lower than the window. The bucket seats were one of the nicest features of her dad’s car. She flipped through her notes, page by page. Erren was right. There was a rudimentary clue here that would bring the puzzle together. There had to be. Just one small thing and they’d know what they were looking for. She revisited the images her brother had left. Why would he tell her to stick with Erren?
“It still bothers me that our pictures aren’t on the wall,” he said.
“I thought you believed it was to protect your identities.”
“Yeah… Those weren’t the only copies of the pictures. Why would
“You think Michael used them?”
“Maybe.” He slowed the car and searched each direction for someone who may have been watching for their return. “No unmarked police cars, no sedans. Your house has crime-scene tape across the front door. I think we’ll be safe if we park on the next block. Then we’ll check the inside to make certain no one’s waiting for you to show up again.”
She didn’t need to verify his assumptions about the street. And then it hit her like a sledgehammer… She completely trusted him. No holds barred. She’d trusted him to rescue her brother and she trusted him to ensure their safety.
It had been a while since she’d wanted that type of confidence in anyone and it sort of felt nice. In spite of their fascination with the Three Musketeers, their family motto was not All for One and One for All. No, they’d been raised as independent thinkers. Letting someone else run the show was extremely hard.
The engine slowed, she popped her seat to a sitting position and he pulled into the back driveway of a house that looked almost identical to hers.
“Damn, my bike’s gone. I didn’t think it would be here after two nights, but I dang sure wanted it to be.” Erren looked so disappointed.
Just like her brother Connor had been growing up—every time the Sergeant Major told him he couldn’t keep the lost dog, stray cat or injured squirrel. Connor had always known what the answer would be before he asked yet somehow had continued to hope for a different result.
A fleeting moment of insanity painted what her future could be. Erren getting along with her father. Being on the same team as Michael. Gaining the respect of Sean. Meeting Connor when he returned from Afghanistan. Those weren’t only insane images, they were dangerous ones.
Erren Rhodes was her partner and it was perfectly logical to grow to respect his opinion. Or even to trust him. She could turn to a blank page in her notebook and fill it with attributes. And again, she could flip the page and fill it with how the man pushed her to her utmost limits of restraint.
He parked and collected their things, beginning the block-and-a-half walk to her backyard.
“I…um… Erren, I need to tell you about the map on your picture.”
“What about it?”
He was on the lookout. Every two or three steps he looked behind them. He hesitated and slowed their pace before crossing a driveway partially blocked by tree limbs. He wasn’t taking any chances on their safety.
She needed to take a chance on him. Hand over the last morsel of information he didn’t know.
“I’m certain Pike didn’t draw the map on your photo. It was all the same handwriting as Michael’s.”
“I’ll go with your judgment. Was there a message in all that scribble?” He smiled, but it was different from his last in the car. More calculated, more predictable, more…copied. “Your brother is safe now. You ready to tell me what the drawings meant?”
“Michael’s note said ‘stick to guy coming for package.’ We developed the code as children.”
He grasped her arm, stopping her and twisting her to face him at the same time.
“That’s the entire message? No meeting time? No location of the package?” The frustration in his voice rose steadily with every word. “I’ve been keeping you close to me this whole time for nothing?”
