Page 91 of Tasting Fire
As soon as Grif left, Emmy could actually concentrate on the lab report for Jesse Giddings. Although nothing had jumped out at her when she’d scanned it earlier, something subtle could be here.
No alcohol.
No illegals.
No Benzos like Xanax or Ativan.
A little doxylamine, probably taken for spring allergies.
Metabolites of the paralytic that would’ve been used during surgery.
Fentanyl, an opioid painkiller.
Opioids could certainly be deadly, but Jesse’s levels were in the normal range for post-op pain management.
Dammit. Maybe she was seeing a boogeyman where there was none.
Or maybe she just needed to sleep on it and look with fresh eyes in the morning.
But before she could slip on her TMNT jammies, a knock came at her door, making her heart jolt. Had Grif forgotten to lock up the building in his hurry to get to the hospital?
There was no peephole in the apartment door.
She could call Cash, but she didn’t really want to alarm him. Should she—
“Emmy, it’s Mom. Open up, please. I have an armload of food.”
Oh, thank all the stars in the sky and the sweet baby Jesus.
When she opened the door, she was surprised to find not only her mom, but also Kris and a third woman.
“Riley!” During the training exercise at Reid’s bunkhouse, Emmy hadn’t had a chance to acknowledge, much less chitchat with, Cash’s baby sister. She was nothing like the twelve-year-old Emmy remembered. With her glossy sable hair, fashionable glasses, and a no-nonsense outfit of fitted cargo pants and a Save the Red Wolves T-shirt, Riley looked every inch the ethnobotany prodigy. “Oh my God, come in! How did you get inside the building? Was it unlocked?”
“Grif Steele dropped a key off with me,” her mom said as she placed bags of food on the small countertop. “Told me you wanted some company.”
That man…
But Emmy was delighted to see them all, so she threw her arms around Riley. “I’m so glad you came along.”
“Wow,” Kris commented, shooting a raised brow look at Emmy’s mom. “Does someone have to go to Costa Rica and back to get that type of greeting?”
A thread of guilt wound through Emmy. As busy as work, Cash, and the not-so-random incidents had kept her, she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with Kris or her mom.
Although her mom was in her mid-fifties, with her long light brown hair, barely lined skin, and easy smile, she looked about thirty-five. Jennifer McKay loved her work as a preschool teacher, and it showed in everything from her finger-painted T-shirt to her denim skirt and Chaco sandals.
Emmy gave her mom and Kris enthusiastic and sincere hugs. “I’m sorry I haven’t called lately. I’ve been…”
Kris lifted her dark eyebrows. “Busy?”
Emmy flashed a glance at her mom to see if she’d caught Kris’s not-so-subtle innuendo. If she hadn’t, then her reading the quickly scribbled list of Dos and Don’ts that Cash had left in her apartment earlier pretty much clinched it.
“I’m not going to nag you with questions,” her mom said, brushing strands of hair from Emmy’s eyes and tucking them back into her braid. “But if you want to tell me you’re dating Cash Kingston again, I’m happy to listen.”
Emmy pulled her mom close again and rested her head on her shoulder. Her mom’s Play-Doh and apple juice scent soothed her. Reminded her of all the times her mom had told her that she didn’t have to be the best at everything. That she loved Emmy just as she was. But somehow, Emmy had never been able to replace her dad’s words about being her serious best with her mom’s heartfelt honesty. “I love you so much, Mom.”
Her mom squeezed her and sighed. “Dating is one thing, but if you tell me I’m about to be a grandmother, I am going to ask questions. Very direct, very pointed questions.”
“What?” Emmy yelped and jumped back. “Why would you think…”
