Point of Danger (Triple Threat #1) - Irene Hannon Page 0,83
the table. “I’m going to call a colleague of mine, see if he’s free for an hour to go along on the interview. I want a second read on whatever we hear. And I have to swing by the office first to prep. Walk me to the door?”
She followed him to the foyer. “I guess this means I’ll have to go back into red-alert mode.”
“Yes.” He paused, his hand on the knob. “I’ll swing by and take you to work again tomorrow.”
“I can’t keep asking you to get up at the crack of dawn to chauffeur me to the station.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered. If this continues to drag on, we’ll regroup and you can think about hiring Phoenix. But I don’t want you to break the bank until there’s no other option. Seem reasonable?”
“To me, yes. I’m not certain it’s a fair deal for you.”
“It’s more than fair. I’ll sleep sounder knowing I’ll have your back while you’re out and about. You’d actually be doing me a favor.” He flashed her a quick grin.
The corners of her lips rose. “When you put it like that . . .”
“Lock up. I’ll call you after the interview, assuming we can pull this off tonight. Otherwise, expect me bright and early tomorrow morning.”
She caught his gaze. Held it. “Thank you.”
His brown eyes warmed, like molten, rich chocolate. “It’s my pleasure.”
He hesitated for a moment—then took a step back, exited, and followed her walk to the street.
Eve closed the door but remained by the sidelight, watching as he circled the cul-de-sac and drove away. Only after his taillights disappeared did she wander back to the kitchen to face the task at the top of her priority list.
Calling her sisters.
She scrunched up her nose. This was not going to be fun.
Aside from the fact that she was worried about them, they were both going to morph into uber-protective mode and fixate on the danger to her. Cate would push her again to get a concealed carry permit, and Grace would feel compelled to make more long drives into town from her rural digs.
But she already had protection, in the form of a very competent, very handsome detective.
Nevertheless, this case needed to get solved fast so everyone could return to their normal life.
Eve unplugged her cell from the charging cord, sat back at the table, and sighed.
Normal.
That sure sounded appealing about now. Fake bombs and old scandals and slashed tires and threatening notes were the pits.
Yet as she speed-dialed Cate, she had a sinking feeling there was another chapter or two left to play out in the living nightmare that had become her life.
“Sorry for the Sunday night callout.” Brent locked his car as he joined Colin in front of the Allen house.
“Not a problem. Trish and I finished dinner while you ran to the office. Besides, she’s used to this drill.”
Brent pocketed his keys. Despite his usual walk-a-wide-circle-around-personal-territory philosophy with colleagues, this was too perfect an opportunity to pass up. “How does she handle the danger of your job?” He kept his tone casual.
“She prays a lot.” One side of Colin’s mouth rose.
The blow-off answer told him nothing. But that was what you got when you nosed into other people’s business.
“You ready to do this?” He nodded toward the house and took a step.
Colin grabbed his arm. “Hey.”
Brent turned back. His colleague’s humor had evaporated.
“I was more than half serious with that answer. Trish has always relied on prayer. But she also knows I never take unnecessary risks, and that I’m well trained and experienced at this job. She factors all that in. Does she still worry? Yes. On the flip side, I worry about her too. The school where she teaches is in a risky area. In the end, though, you have to let people do what they’re called to do and put the rest in God’s hands. Once you manage that, life is much less stressful.”
That was the longest speech Colin had ever made in his presence—and it seemed to come from the heart.
“Thank you.”
“Hey . . . anything to help smooth the path of romance.” He winked.
Brent wasn’t touching that comment. “You ready?”
“Yeah. But you may want to get rid of the blood.” Colin tapped the left side of his own jaw.
“I must have cut myself shaving at the office. I was in a hurry.” He fished out a handkerchief and scrubbed at the spot.