Page 72 of Little Girls Sleeping
Today was a bad day—worse than any I’ve had since being home. The thought of losing Cisco makes my heart break. It’s one of my biggest fears. It turned out okay, but it still doesn’t take away from the high stakes I’ve been presented with. My biggest task is finding the killer in time before he kills Dena.
My emotions are running riot. Anxiety. Loss. Rekindled friendship. New and chance meetings. However, it eases my mind that my partner has my back, at least for now. The way it should be. Always. I miss my old team. Please God, watch over them and protect the weary soldiers. I continue to survive one day at a time…
Thirty-Eight
The high-pitched squeal of an electric screwdriver followed by banging noises woke Katie. She had been in a deep sleep, fighting unforeseen demons, which made it difficult for her to fully wake up. The sounds reverberating around her room and in her head made her ready for combat.
It was the usual shortness of breath.
Heaviness pressing against her chest.
The unending tenseness of the muscles running down her legs.
She readied herself for the worst and leaped out of bed. As she gazed at the window, the sun shone through the sheer curtains and her bad dream melted away. Then she remembered the night before, and it all tumbled back with a vengeance.
Her home had a new history—it was no longer a place of safety. Now fully awake, she took a deep breath, grabbed a sweatshirt and walked out of her bedroom. Even Cisco didn’t greet her as usual; there was so much going on, the dog was more interested in hanging out with the guys working.
She quietly walked down the hallway and peered into the living room. There were two men at the entrance trying to hang the new front door properly, while McGaven was in the kitchen, cooking.
“Wow,” she said. “I have no idea how I could sleep during this.” She saw John Blackburn working on a keypad that he was installing near the front door. Quickly she ran her fingers through her tousled hair.
“Hey,” said McGaven. He was stirring up some scrambled eggs in a skillet. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, but you had eggs. And it’s one of the few things I can make that actually tastes good.”
Still looking around, Katie said, “Thank you. All of you.” To McGaven, “You don’t have to do that.”
“Too late,” he replied, smiling.
“Coffee?” she managed to say.
McGaven motioned to the coffee maker behind him.
Her feelings of embarrassment dissipated because she was in the company of friends; people who had her best interests at heart. It meant so much to her. It also made her miss her army team that much more.
She wrapped her fingers around a hot cup of coffee. Cisco gave her his usual good-morning licks and nudges against her arm. His tail wagged uncontrollably. She realized that he too needed the support of people who were friends.
She took a seat at one of the bar stools that was still intact.
“Oh,” said McGaven. “The boss said you’re not allowed to come to work today. His strict orders.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
“Really?”
“I’ve got everything I need here. As soon as I figure out how to clean some of that paint off my walls, I’m going to get started.” She smiled at McGaven and took another sip of coffee. He scraped eggs onto two plates, and put one in front of her.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” said John.
“What?” replied Katie. She was a little bit self-conscious about how she appeared after a terrible night’s sleep.
The forensic supervisor walked toward the kitchen. Katie couldn’t help but notice that he looked rested and relaxed, as if nothing fazed him.
He explained, “I have a mixture that should take most of the spray paint off the walls. It won’t be pretty until you repaint the room, but you can at least work for now.”
“Sounds great,” she said.
McGaven shoveled a large forkful of eggs into his mouth. “That is precisely why you want a forensic person as your friend.”
“That and so you know how to make a murder scene look like an accident,” said one of the men hanging the front door.
