Page 76 of Hold Your Breath
“I can tell it’s helping,” Callum said dryly. “The question was, what could the MC do with this information if they did have it?”
“Ooh, good question. They could make the evidence disappear.”
He changed an amused sound into a cough when she narrowed her eyes at him.
“We’re brainstorming,” she said sternly. “There’s no laughing allowed in brainstorming sessions.”
“Sorry.” He gave her an impressively somber nod. “The evidence is safe in the state lab. I don’t think this small, local MC has the reach to make it”—he cleared his throat—“disappear.”
“Okay.” She tapped the marker against her lips again, stopping when Callum gave her an odd look. “What?” Glancing down, she realized she had the marker upside down, and there was probably magenta ink all over her face now. “Shoot. Oh well, at least it’s not a permanent marker. So, if the club has prior knowledge of the evidence, they’ll be prepared when Rob interrogates them about it. That could mess up the case.”
“It could.” He didn’t sound too convinced. “It’s a stretch, though. They’ll already know something’s up, just because the sheriff’s bringing them in for questioning.”
“But they won’t know what, specifically, he has on them, unless we spill the beans to Ian.”
“Will that actually affect the outcome of the interview?”
Opening her mouth to answer, she closed it again to reconsider. “I don’t know,” she finally admitted. “They could have excuses prepared, I suppose. It’s all so hypothetical, when the reasons Ishouldtell Ian are so visceral.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Tell him.” It just popped out of her mouth without her having to think about it.
After considering her for a long moment, Callum nodded. “Do it.”
With a little bounce of excitement, she asked, “Now?”
He glanced at his watch. “It’s pretty late, and you probably want to do it in person?” She nodded. “Tomorrow morning, then.”
“Okay.” Looking at the whiteboard, she said, “I think I’m going to start calling the diabetes and amputee support groups tomorrow, too. Unless you think I should visit in person?”
“No.” Standing, he stretched his arms toward the ceiling. Distracted by the play of muscles visible even under his shirt, Lou temporarily forgot the question she’d just asked until he continued. “More snow’s coming, and it’s too dangerous to be driving that far. Most of the towns where the groups meet are over an hour from here.”
Frowning, she replaced the cap on the marker. “Plus, I’m currently truckless.”
He walked to where she was standing and rested a hand where her neck and shoulder met, massaging the muscles there. “Did you hear anything from your insurance company?”
“Not since I called them this morning.” Leaning into his touch, she closed her eyes as his fingers dug into a particularly tight spot.
“Things will get settled quickly,” he assured her, but she was too blissed-out to really listen. “I’ll help you shop for a new truck.”
When that penetrated, her eyes popped open. “That’s okay,” she said, slipping out from underneath his hand. “You’re busy. I can do it on my own.”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Callum gave her a heavy frown. “What’s the problem?”
“No problem.” She rubbed at a pink smudge the marker had left on her hand so she could avoid looking at him. “It’s just that I can shop for my own truck.”
He was quiet long enough that she gave in and met his gaze. It gave nothing away. Stubbornly, she stayed silent in what felt like an extremely awkward round of the quiet game.
“Are you regretting it?”
“What?”
“What we talked about earlier.” He ran his hand over his shorn head, as if he were reaching to adjust his baseball cap and was surprised to find it missing. “Us.”
“No!” For this conversation, she couldn’t stay still. Crossing to the breakfast bar, she started arranging the apples and bananas sitting on a plate. “I just…” Balancing a banana on top of two apples, she sighed. “Moving here was really hard.”
He grunted.
