Susan Sleeman - Emergency Response

“The Vargas family?” Krista asked.

“He’s talking about Isabel, Mayte and Pilar.” Skyler came back into the room carrying a mug of steaming tea. She handed it to Darcie and grinned. “Is this where I should give you a hug or something?”

Darcie returned the smile, and Noah liked seeing the change in her attitude even if it was just for the moment. “I’m good for now.”

“Morgan’s right, you know,” Brady said. “If this is related to the squad we need to know.”

Noah opened his mouth to speak, but the team started tossing out thoughts on possible suspects. No point in fighting to be heard. He leaned back and listened, but he kept his eye on Darcie, who sipped her tea and said very little.

“Back to the Vargas family,” Jake said. “Could this have something to do with Mayte’s drug habit?”

“I wondered the same thing,” Noah admitted. “I’ll start looking in to that, too.”

“You’re heading up this investigation, then?” Archer asked.

Noah nodded and waited for one of them to ask about his credentials and if PPB had a more qualified detective.

“So there’s no clear reason for the attack.” Logan weighed in for the first time. “Did you ever consider it’s just a random attack? Maybe a robbery?”

“I thought of that,” Darcie said. “But if all he wanted was my money, why didn’t he pull his gun and demand my purse instead of trying to choke me to death?”

“Good point. It does sound more like someone wanted you dead.” Logan frowned. “Odd that he’d attempt it out in broad daylight like that with witnesses around.”

“If he is a gangster,” Noah said, “the locals are so afraid of the gangs, they’d never testify against them, so the gangsters don’t bother trying to hide. And, honestly, the attack in broad daylight is right in line with a gangster’s behavior.”

Archer nodded. “They aren’t known for their subtlety.”

Jake was still frowning. “Until we can prove a connection to a gang, we’ll need to explore all other possibilities.”

Brady leveled his gaze at Darcie. “You’ve never really talked about your ex. Could he be behind this?”

Darcie’s mouth fell open for a second, before she snapped it closed and took a deep breath. “Tom doesn’t have any gang ties.”

Brady leaned forward. “He could have hired someone.”

“He’s right, Darcie,” Skyler said. “I know Tom came to see you a few weeks ago. He seemed pretty angry when he left. Could it be related to that?”

Darcie opened her mouth, then closed it again and looked down at her hands. “We own a house together from when we were married. He wants to sell it. Says he needs the money. I’m not ready to let it go.”

“I know you don’t want to think he could harm you, but money or the lack thereof, is a powerful motivator,” Archer said.

“I should probably look in to him.” Noah tried to sound like it would be an unpleasant thing to do, when truth was, he hoped to learn more about Darcie in the process since she shared little about her personal life.

“Do what you have to do,” she said, but didn’t look up.

Archer shifted in his chair. “Has anyone thought about Winnie Kerr’s sons?”

“The woman who donated this place?” Morgan asked.

Archer nodded. “She recently changed her will, cutting out her sons and leaving Darcie a sizable inheritance. Her sons didn’t like it and they’re trying to prove Winnie’s not of sound mind.”

Darcie lifted her head, sorrow lingering in her expression. “I’m scheduled to testify on Winnie’s behalf.”

“Sounds like a good motive for murder.” Archer swung his gaze to Noah. “Since this is a financial lead and I have an MBA, mind if I do a bit of checking on it for you? Would help relieve some of your workload.”

“I’m glad for the help.” Noah handed a business card to Archer. “Keep me updated on your progress.”

“And you’ll do the same thing,” Jake demanded, his focus fixed squarely on Noah’s face.

Noah didn’t like sharing confidential information outside of his department, but there was no point in arguing with Jake. He’d get the information somehow, so Noah might as well provide it. He nodded his agreement.

Darcie set down her teacup and stood. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m tired of talking about this. It’s my night to cook dinner, and it’s time for me to get started.”

“Oh, honey.” Morgan jumped up. “You don’t need to cook. We can do it.”

Darcie gave a firm shake of her head, then winced. Noah suspected it was from the bruises he’d seen before she hid them under her sweater. “Making dinner will keep my mind busy.”

With her shoulders back, she turned and marched to the kitchen, looking like the resolute, amazing woman Noah knew her to be. After losing her daughter and then her marriage, she’d clawed her way back to normalcy in her life, but Noah knew it had been a long, hard struggle. He also knew if such a tragedy didn’t keep her down, nothing would.

The problem was, in an effort to keep up a strong act or to fight through her fears, she could very well ignore the danger she was in and do something foolish. It was just one of many things that would keep Noah on alert until he apprehended her attacker.

FOUR

Alone at last in the kitchen, Darcie planted her hands on the granite countertop, her back to the family room. The cool, smooth surface took the sting out of her hands. She needed time to process this day. Time away from everyone else. She couldn’t rush up to her condo for fear of waking Isabel, so she’d gone with the first thought that had come into her head—the kitchen.

Unfortunately, it was open to the family room, leaving her in full view. Still, cooking for this many people was a big job and no one on the squad would offer to help when it wasn’t their night, so she should have the kitchen all to herself. It was sweet of Morgan to offer to take over, but when Darcie pushed the point, Morgan certainly hadn’t insisted.

Fighting down a panic attack, one like the many she’d experienced after Haley died and Tom bailed on her, Darcie set to work on her family’s simple shrimp-boil recipe. She dug out a large stockpot and started water flowing. She unearthed several pounds of fresh shrimp, plump sausage and ears of corn from the refrigerator, then found a bag of baby red potatoes in the bin. As she retrieved the spice boiling bags from the pantry, Noah stepped into the room.

He smiled, but she could see he was testing her mood. “What are you making?”

“Shrimp boil—shrimp, corn on the cob, sausage and red potatoes all cooked with seafood spices,” she answered, trying to sound calm and collected so he would think she’d recovered from the attack and go home.

“You probably ate a lot of seafood growing up in Florida.”

“Yes,” she said.

“Do you go back there often?”

“Not really.” The fact that her family had disowned her when she married Tom, who was nothing more than an unemployed biker when they met, had nothing to do with the investigation, so she didn’t bring it up.

“Want some help?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

She sighed and met his gaze. “Look, Noah, I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for your help today, but if this is your way of getting me to talk about the incident and how I’m feeling, I’m done with that and ready to move on.”

“I’m that obvious, am I?” He grinned and his dimple, the one that seemed to beg her to poke a finger into it, appeared.

Instead, she turned off the water and started the gas burner beneath the pot.

“I’d hoped to talk to you about reviewing your callout list,” he continued. “I’m sure it’s in my email by now and we can sit down to review it together.”