Page 23 of On the Chase
Focus, Hugh ordered his brain, which sent a zigzagging spear of pain through his head in response. “Yeah. That would make sense. There’s probably a whole underground-bunker village beneath his property. Why me, though? No offense, Theo, but Gordon’s got to hate you more than he hates me. His girlfriend wanted to hurtyou; I was just the expendable sidekick.”
“You’re notexpendable,” Theo gritted out, and Hugh waved a hand to brush away his partner’s comment.
“To Sherry Baker I was, and that’s the current theory, right? That Gordon—our own local bomb fairy—wants to get revenge for Sherry blowing herself up?” A wave of nausea made Hugh tighten his jaw against the need to hurl, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to the meds or the concussion or the memory of the disturbed stranger that Don’s daughter had become.
“Norman Rounds might know something, but we haven’t been able to locate him since he got out of the hospital,” Theo grumbled.
“Can’t really blame him.” Hugh felt like he was sinking deeper into the bed even as his stomach protested. The drugs were working their way through his system. Hopefully, he’d pass out before the urge to vomit got too strong. Puking was going to hurt. “He tried to stop Sherry, after all. Gordon can’t be too happy with him.”
With a grunt that could’ve been agreement, Theo turned and paced the other direction.
“This is speculation,” Otto grumbled. “We should wait for LT.”
Exhaustion and the dose of pain meds were pulling Hugh down, and the thought of sleeping and escaping his painful reality for a while was tempting. If the lieutenant didn’t hurry, Hugh probably wasn’t going to be awake for his visit. “He’s investigating?”
“Last I heard, he’d ordered a perimeter put up and was waiting for the Denver bomb squad to arrive. He wanted to make sure the scene was safe before investigators started crawling all over it.”
“Right.” Hugh’s eyelids were sinking, despite his best efforts. “Makes…sense.”
Pacing back to the side of the bed, Theo crossed his arms over his chest. “Go to sleep. But you have to knock off this almost-getting-killed bullshit.”
All Hugh could manage was an upward quirk of his lips and a slurred “I’ll do my best.” Then the darkness took him again.
Chapter 8
Grace looked down at herself and sighed. It was just as bad as she’d imagined it would be. Worse, even. After all, there werecoveralls. Between those and the knee-high rubber boots that were two sizes too big, Grace knew she looked more unattractive than she ever had in her entire adult life.
At least no one except Nan, the kennel owner, would see her like this. Telling herself to suck it up and be thankful that she was still alive, Grace tromped over to the power washer, passing one of the overhead doors. Both were open to let in the sunshine, and Grace could see the dogs playing in their various exercise yards. Despite the coveralls, she had to admit that some parts of the job weren’t that bad, such as watching the dogs, especially two six-month-old puppies that romped and tumbled over each other. Cleaning up what they’d left behind, however, was not fun…not fun at all. She’d never had a pet as a kid. Shelikeddogs just fine, but taking care of them had never really been a part of her reality.
Now it was. And a dirty, stinky reality it was.
The empty, smelly kennels weren’t going to clean themselves, though. Resigned, she gave one last mournful thought to her wonderful job at the college where she could dress up in pretty clothes and work her fund-raising magic and change people’s lives. Then she lifted the power washer and got to work.
A squad car pulled up outside, and Grace held her breath. When Otto climbed out of the driver’s side, however, she relaxed and ignored a silly pang of disappointment. He lifted a hand, returning her wave, before heading toward one of the exercise yards where a shy and scared Belgian Malinois huddled against the fence. Nan had told her that the dog was Otto’s special project.
Grace caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She returned her gaze to the squad car and felt a rush of excitement that refused to be squashed. Hugh must’ve been in the front passenger seat, because now he was standing, leaning on the car and watching her. After hearing about the explosion, about how he almostdied, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. She stared at him, unreasonably glad to see him in one piece. Her gaze rose to his face. Even from a distance, she could see his annoying smirk, and her relief dispersed, aggravation taking its place. She resisted the urge to make a rude gesture.
Determined to ignore him, Grace turned away from the squad car, momentarily forgetting the stream of water still jetting from the power washer. It hit a corner of the kennel wall and reflected right back at her, soaking her through in an instant.
With a bitten-off shriek, she turned off the water. Although she didn’t even want to know, Grace couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at her now-drenched coveralls. It was bad. Patting her loose bun, she tried to shove wet, bedraggled strands out of her face, but she knew that was a futile effort, especially when she heard a muffled laugh coming from one of the open doors.
“Shut it,” she growled.
Hugh spread his hands in a gesture of pure innocence. “I haven’t said anything yet.”
How she wished she held a regular hose spray nozzle, rather than the power washer. After all, she didn’t want to damage him; it just would’ve been nice to wash that annoying grin off his face. “Let’s keep it that way.”
He laughed. “What fun is that? Talking is one of my favorite things to do.”
“Obviously,” she muttered. He couldn’t have just stayed quiet, swallowed his smirk, and walked away. He was Hugh. Obviously, the explosion hadn’t damaged him too much if he still felt up to teasing her. Her next words tumbled out of her mouth without her permission. “How’s your head?”
His smile dimmed just slightly before returning to full wattage. “Still where it’s supposed to be. I might have lost a few brain cells, but there were plenty to spare.”
Grace rolled her eyes. Of course he would joke about almost dying. Forget that she hadn’t been able to sleep or think about anything else for the past five days since Jules had told her about the explosion. She didn’t know why she cared, why she worried about him, why the idea of him almost dying made her heart hurt. It wasn’t like they were friends. Every time they saw each other, they argued. Even now, seeing Hugh all happy and smirky and healthy-looking, she felt her worry turn to annoyance. “Have you found out who planted the bomb yet?”
“Can’t talk about an ongoing investigation,” he said lightly. “You know what we can talk about, though?”
“What?” she asked warily. He was just a few steps away, and she realized that she’d been moving closer without even realizing it.Stupid feet. Don’t they know he’s an ass?
