Софи Райан: The Fast Аnd Тhe Furriest

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I can’t . . . I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.” I couldn’t. The thought of my brother, Liam, or my grandmother, or anyone else I loved being in a coma and not being able to see them was somewhere my mind wouldn’t go.

Mac looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry, Sarah. I should have told you.”

I shook my head. “Don’t apologize. You don’t owe anyone—not me, not anyone—an explanation.”

His dark eyes met mine again. “At first I just didn’t want to talk about it and I was still fighting with Leila’s parents to at least be kept updated on how she was. And then the more time that went by, the harder it was to talk about everything.”

Elvis nudged my hand with his head and I began to stroke his fur. “You think Erin being here has something to do with Leila?”

Mac nodded. “She sided with Leila’s parents. I haven’t spoken to her in close to two years. Why else would she be here?”

“Why now?” I asked. Elvis stretched his two front paws across my lap.

“I don’t know. Something must have happened. You said she told you to tell me she believed me.”

“She did,” I said. “She seemed—I’m not sure—sad, sorry maybe.”

“I don’t know what else it could be.” He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to try the hospital and see if maybe I can at least make sure Leila is all right. I get updates according to a schedule the lawyers set up so I don’t know if they’ll tell me anything, but it’s worth a try.”

There was a knock then at the door.

“I’ll get that,” I said. I moved the cat off my lap and got to my feet. Elvis stretched and moved into my place.

Michelle Andrews was at the door. “Hi,” I said.

I was surprised to see her standing there. Michelle had been my summertime best friend when we were kids. Every year we’d just picked up where we’d left off the summer before. But we’d had a falling-out as teenagers and had just reconnected a year ago. We were slowly rebuilding our friendship and I was happy to have her back in my life. Things were complicated a little—sometimes a lot—by the fact that Michelle was a detective on the North Harbor police force, and the Angels had gotten involved in more than one of her cases, which meant I’d ended up involved, too.

Michelle rarely just stopped by. Even as I was wondering what she was doing at my door, the fact that she was dressed in her work clothes—gray trousers, a fitted, pale blue shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves and a police-issue navy blue rain jacket—was also registering.

“I’m sorry to bother you this late, Sarah,” she said. “But I’m looking for Mac. Do you have any idea where he is?” Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wore her father’s heavy gold watch on her left arm.

The popcorn I’d eaten suddenly felt like a lump of lead in my stomach. “Why are you looking for him?” I didn’t mean to sound suspicious but I could hear it in my voice.

“I’m right here,” Mac said behind me.

“I just need to talk to you for a minute,” Michelle said. “Could we step outside?”

“No,” I said, putting my hand on the doorframe. “What do you want to talk to Mac about?”

“I just have some questions.” She made an offhand gesture with one hand as though this was no big deal. Some sort of internal radar told me it was.

Mac put a hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Sarah.”

I glanced back at him.

“It’s fine,” he said softly.

I knew it wasn’t fine.

Two weekends ago it had rained all day Sunday and Elvis and I had indulged in a marathon session of Star Trek: The Next Generation . Whenever something went wrong on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise Commander William T. Riker, played by the yummy Jonathan Frakes, would call out, “Red alert!” Right now my internal warning system was doing the same thing.

“Questions about what?” I asked. I kept my hand on the doorframe. I didn’t have any illusions that I could actually keep Michelle out or Mac in but the symbolism felt important.

Michelle looked at Mac. “Do you know a woman named Erin Fellowes?”

Mac’s dark eyes narrowed. “Has something happened? Is Erin all right?”

“Why don’t we go over to the station and get out of Sarah’s way?” Michelle said. She hadn’t answered Mac’s questions.

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “Where’s Erin? Has she been hurt?”

“Mac, you should call a lawyer,” I said, feeling tension coil in my shoulders.

Michelle turned her attention to me. “Why does Mac need a lawyer?” she asked, once more not answering Mac’s question.

“I don’t need one,” he said, an edge of aggravation in his voice.

“Because you’re here asking questions,” I told Michelle, ignoring what Mac had just said. “It’s late. You’re not checking out a reference or playing matchmaker. This has to do with a case.”

I pulled my phone out of my pocket with my free hand and brought up Josh Evans’s number. It said something that I had the lawyer’s office and cell number on speed dial. Luckily he answered on the third ring. I explained that Michelle was at the door with questions for Mac and unlike the two of them I thought it was a bad idea for Mac to talk to her without Josh here.

“Let me talk to him,” Josh said without preamble.

Wordlessly I handed the phone to Mac. He turned away and lowered his voice.

“This isn’t personal,” I said to Michelle. “And it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.”

Her expression was somber. “You’re putting yourself in the middle of something you’d be better staying out of, Sarah.”

“It’s not the first time,” I said, giving her a small smile, which I hoped could somehow lighten the mood.

I got a hint of a smile in return. “No, it’s not,” she agreed.

Mac touched my arm and handed the phone back. “Josh will be here in a few minutes,” he said to Michelle, with what seemed to me to be a note of apology in his voice. “I told him I’d wait to talk to you until he arrived. Could you just tell me whether Erin’s all right?”

Josh had obviously been more persuasive than I’d been.

Michelle’s expression tightened. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t known her so well. She gestured toward the driveway. “I think it would be best if I waited outside.”

I nodded. She turned away and I closed the door and made my way into the kitchen, where I started the coffeemaker. I had a feeling I was going to need a cup. Probably more than one.

“How did Josh convince you to wait for him?” I said over my shoulder to Mac.

“He said—and this is a direct quote—‘Don’t be such a guy. Listen to Sarah.’”

I swung all the way around to look at him. “You’re making that up.”

He held up both hands in a gesture of acquiescence. “I’m not. I swear.”

I shrugged. “It does sound like Josh.”

Mac glanced at the front door then his eyes came back to me, and the start of a smile I’d seen on his face had disappeared. “You think something happened to Erin. You think she was mugged or roughed up in some way. That’s why you didn’t want me to talk to Michelle without Josh.”

“I think it’s possible. Why else would Michelle be looking for you?” I got three mugs down from the cupboard.

His eyes darted to the door again.

I knew what he was thinking. “Don’t,” I said softly. “Josh will be here in five minutes, tops. He drives faster than I do. If Erin was seriously hurt or in the hospital I think Michelle would have said so.”

When the coffee was ready I poured a cup for Mac and handed it to him. “There are no cookies,” I said. “But I do have soda crackers and”—I did a quick mental inventory of the cupboards and the fridge—“and that’s it.”