Page 85 of Death is Familiar

“Maturity is not your strong suit,” Jack said as the three of us walked through the station’s halls.

“Never said it was.” Adrenaline coursed through my veins, tempered by the look Jack sent me over his shoulder. “Sorry, still in defense mode.”

“Fair,” Jack chuckled. “I have always appreciated your flare for the dramatic.”

Which was met with a huff from Todd. “Don’t encourage her.” But I could see the makings of a smile on Mr. Grumpy’s face.

The spark of levity, however, was doused as we crossed the bullpen. The hair on the back of my neck pricked, as I sensed the officers’ eyes on me. Some with interest, others with recognition. I’d grown up in this town, I had a “two” scarred on my face, and the story of my stabbing was sensationalized and fed the rumor mill long after I left. Never mind the drama that circled in the James family name over book clubs, 4-H clubs, and knitting circles.

It would have been naïve of me to think people weren’t going to recognize me. I just wanted to limit my exposure.

I kept my eyes forward as we exited the station. We’d been there for nearly twelve hours, and the last thing I needed was to make small talk. Or get questioned about what I’d been up to since I left town.

Moisture clung to my skin as we reached the parking lot. Though it was dark, the air was still warm, and filled with the chirrups and rasps of crickets and katydids. A familiar song that threatened to resurrect the memory of a home I worked hard to forget.

The good memories were the most painful, because the good would never come back. Things would never be the same, even if the place and people stayed. Decayed.

For most, my hometown was a tomb.

“We’re parked here, Delilah.” Jack pulled out his keys and unlocked the rental car, but I kept walking.

“I need to take a lap. I’ll meet you back at the motel.”

I didn’t miss the exchange between Jack and Todd out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s late, and none of us slept last night.” Jack stepped away from the car, towards me. “Should we be concerned?”

“Nope, I just need to work out this excess energy.”

Jack must have thought through his choice of words carefully, since he paused before saying, “You’ve been awfully flighty, Delilah.”

He was right. Not that I’d say it out loud. I’d been finding excuses to get fresh air, clear my head. More so than usual. But that was because I was⁠—

“Angry. The word you are looking for is angry, Jack. And after speaking—no, sorry—staring at Mads for the better part of a day, I need to get this frustration out of my system.”

“We can’t let you do that.” Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Not alone anyway. We don’t know if Mads was working with someone when he attempted to abduct you.”

“I can handle myself.” Evidence of that was all over Mads’ mugshot where his eye was a satisfying shade of purple. “Besides Mads was all up in arms about his team betraying him. It’s unlikely he was working with anyone.”

“Unlikely isn’t certainty,” Jack said at the same time Todd signed, “We’re not taking any chances.”

Huffing, I crossed my arms. None of us blinked. It was official, we were settling into a three-way stare down.

Given I was the most badass, I would hold out the longest.

But I’d also gotten us into this mess, and I still owed Jack and Todd some reparations for forcing them into a situation that was both uncomfortable and risky. Never mind that they both supported me. Without coercion. And minimal questions asked. They chose to help me, even when they could have shut down my plan without giving it a second thought.

I also could have not told them about the rendezvous with Mads, but that wouldn’t have worked out well. A leash was preferable to being back behind bars—or wherever Mads had planned to take me. Besides, I’d grown accustomed to the big lugs.

So, I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”

Jack nodded to Todd as he popped open the trunk, Todd placing whatever I’d failed to notice was slung over his shoulder inside. “I’ll walk.”

Jack proceeded to open the driver’s side door. “I’ll follow.”

“What?” If it weren’t for the undercurrent of frustration, and confusion, I felt, I would have laughed. “We don’t need the car.”

“I disagree. Now, do you plan on walking, or have you changed your mind about your midnight stroll?” This walk of mine was becoming rather cumbersome. I should have tossed in the towel, but I had the feeling if I did, I’d be back to punching shower tiles and bruising my knuckles. And Todd had given me enough grief about that the last time.