hurt. A lot. All the bruises she’d amassed, and the gunshot wound. “Clarke was shot.”
“I wondered where all the blood was from. Millie said she tagged him.”
“It was just a graze, but he’s running hurt.” Just not scared. Bridget knew from personal experience that scared people made mistakes. Would Clarke make one that landed him in the hands of the police? She could hope, but she wasn’t going to count on it.
“Here.”
“That’s Clarke’s phone.”
Aiden’s brows rose. He pressed the home button with his thumb. “Passcode. Think you can get in?”
“Not sure I can get the right answer before it locks out.” She tried to think what it might be. “Millie mentioned some guy in town who is a computer whiz. You think he can access it?”
“Technically, Ted shouldn’t work police contracts. But also technically…this isn’t a case.” Aiden shrugged one shoulder. “I’ll clear it with Millie and Eric, but I don’t think they’ll have a problem. This could be a serious lead.”
“Great. Hand me my clothes and let’s get going.”
“Pretty sure a doctor should clear you before you up and leave the hospital.”
“And yet, somehow, that’s never stopped me before.”
Aiden barked out a laugh, his expression showed her sudden humor had surprised him. It was kind of adorable.
“I might not want to be here, but it’s still good to see you.”
“A bright star in the night sky?”
Memory rolled through her. Time they’d spent together, during their summer of disastrous romance. A whisper. A touch.
“Bad memories?”
She thought over everything that’d happened since. Calling it disastrous didn’t mean there weren’t sweet moments. “Not all of them.”
He took half a step toward her. “When the doctor clears you to leave, I can drive you to Ted’s. While you’re getting seen by the doc, I’ll make a call and set it up. See if he can get us into Clarke’s phone.”
Bridget nodded. He wanted sweet moments but apparently wasn’t interested in dragging them out. Whoever he’d been talking to on the phone when she woke up was probably the reason he wanted nothing more than to catalog those sweet moments as merely memories. Nostalgia, or whatever. Clearly Aiden also wasn’t interested in anything happening between them in the present.
That was fine with her, considering she didn’t want to be the “other” woman. Bridget had no interest in that.
He’d moved on with his life. The way she’d done—though their paths were very different. He was a good guy who made the people around him care. She saved lives on a global scale, and then went home to her solitude. The place where she worked through her grief and the trauma of it all.
Not just the baby, but everything that’d happened before that.
“What do you say?”
Bridget realized she’d been drifting. “Sounds good. I’m ready to get moving.”
Two hours later, they pulled up outside a huge house on the far side of town. Bridget remembered it, though it had been a rundown wreck last time she’d seen it. “Didn’t we use to come here on Halloween and pretend this place was haunted?”
Aiden chuckled. “Pretty sure my friends and I were the ones hiding in the closets, wearing horror movie masks, jumping out to scare the cute girls.” He laughed for a second more. “Good times.”
She stared at him out the corner of her eye. He only laughed harder, so Bridget shook her head and got out. Aiden jogged around the car. “I would’ve helped you out.”
“Like you did with those girls? Scare them so much they fall into your arms…and then what?” One of those middle school party games, no doubt.
“It was a long time ago.” He shut the car door for her. “Much has changed, for both of us.”
She nodded. “I can’t say I ever thought you’d be a cop.”
“Me either.” He shrugged. “But it’s stable work with decent benefits, and I get to feel good about myself. Maybe even make up for some of the bad stuff I did.”
Bridget knew what that felt like. She glanced at the trees and wondered if Clarke was out there in the woods. Watching. “That’s how I feel about my job. That I get to make a difference.” She figured she might as well tell him. “Our clients have served their country, and for whatever reason, that country left them hung out to dry. We help them start over.” Something she had first-hand experience with.
“There had to be a reason.”
“Sometimes it’s just that policies change. A different person—with different priorities—is suddenly put in charge of a task force, or