Hide The Child. Janice Kay JohnsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
him in close quarters with a clingy woman and whiny kid, right when he felt especially unsociable. Even so, he didn’t hesitate.
“Anything,” he said, which was the only possible answer. “Tell me what you know.”
Listening, he remained lying on his back on the weight bench where he’d been working out.
Hearing that the sister was a psychologist didn’t make him want to break out in song and dance. He’d had his fill of social workers and counselors both at the hospital and rehab facility. They were positive he had to be suffering from PTSD. Guilt because a teammate had died in the same explosion. Talking about it was the answer. Reliving the horrific moments over and over being so helpful to his mental health. When he balked, that had to mean he was refusing to acknowledge his emotional response to his own traumatic injury as well as Raul’s spectacular death. No chance he just didn’t need to talk about it, because this wasn’t the first time he’d been injured and he’d seen so much death in the past decade he was numb to it.
If this woman thought she’d fix him out of gratitude for his help, he’d make sure she thought again.
His protective instincts did fire up when he heard what had happened to the kid, followed by the cold-blooded attempt to make sure that little girl couldn’t tell anybody what she’d seen that day.
“Why don’t the cops have them in a safe house?” He finally sat up and reached for a towel to wipe his face and bare chest. His workout was over.
“I didn’t ask for details. She sounds wary where they’re concerned, at least about the primary investigator.”
“Okay.” There’d be time for him to ask her about her issues with the police. City, he presumed, rather than the Granger County Sheriff’s Department. For her sake, he hoped the murder had happened within the Sadler city limits. The current county sheriff was a fool, the deputies, whether competent or not, spread too thin over long stretches of little-traveled rural roads. Boyd had nothing good to say about the sheriff’s department.
“I’ll go get her,” he said, to end the call. “You watch your back.”
“Goes without saying.” Which of course was a lie; Joseph would be watching his teammates’ backs instead, trusting them to be doing the same for him.
Still straddling the bench, Gabe ended the call. A quick shower was in order. And then, huh, he’d better think about whether there were any clean sheets for the bed in the guest room. If the kid needed a crib...no, she had to be older than that to be verbal. Formerly verbal. Whatever.
Yeah, and what about food?
As he was going upstairs for that shower, it occurred to him that he’d better let Boyd know what was up, too. He was unlikely to need backup...but thinking about the bastard who wouldn’t stop at anything to save his own skin, Gabe changed his mind.
Having backup would be smart.
* * *
SOMEHOW, SOMEWHERE, TRINA found a smile for Vicky, who had been fussing over her ever since Josh left the two women and Chloe at the house while he went to work.
“I’ll have Caroline cancel all your appointments for today and tomorrow,” he’d assured her. “With the weekend, that gives you four days to figure out what you’re going to do.”
Trina hated the necessity. It was bad enough when your patients were adults, but when they were frightened, withdrawn children? They wouldn’t understand.
Now she said to Vicky, “Thanks, but I’m fine.” More fine if she could take the prescribed pain pills, but she didn’t dare, not if she were to stay alert. If somebody had been watching the small hospital, he wouldn’t have missed seeing her and Chloe leaving with Josh. Following them would have been a breeze. She’d asked Vicky to pull the drapes on the front window immediately, even though she was uneasy not being able to see the street and driveway.
“You look like you might be feverish,” Vicky said doubtfully.
Trina felt feverish. But she couldn’t relax and let herself be miserable until the promised Army Ranger appeared to keep Chloe safe. Really, it hadn’t been much over an hour since she talked to Joseph. Expecting instant service was a bit much. Joseph might not have been able to reach this Decker guy immediately. Or Decker might have been in the middle of something he couldn’t drop just like that.
Tap, tap, tap.
Vicky and Trina both jumped. That knock hadn’t been on the front door. They looked simultaneously toward the kitchen.
“It might be a neighbor,” Vicky said after a moment, almost whispering. Trina could tell she didn’t believe it. The elegant homes in this neighborhood were all on lots of a half acre to an acre or larger. Most of the wives were probably professional women themselves, not housewives who casually dropped by for a cup of coffee.
Trina would have gone along with Vicky to see who was knocking, except Chloe lay curled on the sofa. Not asleep, but pretending to be, she thought. And the tap on back door could be a diversion meant to draw the two women away long enough for someone to come in the front and snatch Chloe.
Trina heard voices, one slow and deep. Vicky reappeared, right behind her a massive, unsmiling man who took Chloe and Trina in with one penetrating glance. Her first stupid thought was, how had anyone managed to hurt this man, given his height and breadth, never mind all those muscles?
So she wasn’t at her sharpest.
“Mr. Decker?” she asked.
He nodded. “Gabe.”
“I’m Trina. And this is Chloe.” Who had stiffened, even though her eyes remained closed.
“Okay.” His voice made her think of the purr of a big cat, assuming they purred. Velvety, deep and not as reassuring as she’d like it to be. “You have anything to bring?”
“A duffel.” Vicky had scrounged some clothes from her daughter’s drawers, the one who’d left most recently for college, that would probably come close to fitting Trina. Better yet, she’d produced several outfits of little girl clothing from wherever she’d packed them away with granddaughters in mind. Otherwise...otherwise they wouldn’t have had a thing.
“Oh!” Vicky said suddenly. “I have extra toothbrushes. And surely I can find a hairbrush for you.”
Bless her heart, she came back with both, plus a handful of hair elastics. Something Gabe Decker, with dark hair barely long enough to be disheveled, would not have.
With damp eyes, Trina hugged Vicky. She was grateful the other woman remembered not to hug her back. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you and Josh.”
“We’d have been glad to have you stay, you know,” she said, her eyes wet, too.
“I know, but—”
Vicky nodded. She poked the brush and other things into the duffel and said, “I can carry this out.”
Gabe stepped forward. “No, I don’t want you outside. I’ll take that.” When he saw Trina reaching for Chloe, he shook his head. “And her. Joseph said you’d been hurt.”
She had no doubt his blue eyes saw right through her pretenses. “I have burns on my back.” With sudden alarm, she remembered that he’d have to renew the ointment and bandages for her. A stranger, and male. Very male. With enormous hands that would come close to spanning her back.
That tingle couldn’t be what it felt like, not under the circumstances. Especially since she knew perfectly well that no touch would feel good. Despite the gauze, she’d swear the thin cotton of the scrub top was scraping her burns every time she moved. “Can you carry...?”
His lifted eyebrow mocked her question. Yes, he could carry both, and probably pile on a whole lot more. He undoubtedly did on a regular basis, come to think of it. She’d read that soldiers often packed over a hundred pounds even