Chapter Eleven #2
Sean filed that away. A reporter willing to charm information out of law enforcement was exactly the kind of problem they didn’t need right now.
“Be careful around that one,” Brad continued. “She’s going to push too far one of these days and land herself in trouble. I’d sure like to know where she’s getting her information, though.”
Sean shrugged out of his suit jacket, the fabric suddenly feeling heavier than before, and draped it across the back of a chair. “So would I.”
The woman’s question kept replaying in his head.
She’d known too much. Not enough to expose the Philadelphia connection, but enough to suggest she had a source somewhere she shouldn’t.
And until they figured out who that source was, Sean had a feeling Jessica Daly was going to become one more complication they couldn’t afford.
They gathered around the oblong conference table once more, the scrape of chairs against the floor breaking the quiet as everyone settled in.
The tension from the press conference still lingered in the room, but it gave way to business as they began updating one another—and the sheriff—on what they’d uncovered since the morning briefing.
Sean passed around copies of the reports Karen Winslow had emailed over, the stack already marked with his notes from the hour he’d spent combing through them before the press conference. “She’s overnighting the rest of the files.”
Brad flipped through the first few pages, his brow furrowing as he skimmed the details. Then he glanced up. “Hey, what time does your profiler get in? My wife’s friend manages the Days Inn up the street. I can call her and have a room set up for your agent. How many nights will she be here?”
“I haven’t a clue. But it’s… uh… no problem.” He shifted in his seat. “I offered her the spare bedroom at the beach house.”
Across the table, Brian’s mouth curved into the kind of grin that usually signaled trouble. “Oh, really? Getting cozy with the doc, huh? What happened to little Gracie?”
Sean shot him a flat look. “As I said before, idiot, Suki’s a friend. Nothing more. I told her to take the spare bedroom because it’s nicer than staying in a motel.”
The words had barely left his mouth before another thought struck him.
It hadn’t occurred to him how the arrangement might look from Grace’s perspective.
After the kiss they’d shared the night before, hearing that another woman—an attractive federal agent, no less—was staying with him at the beach house could send the wrong message.
He’d have to introduce them soon and make it clear there was nothing between him and Suki beyond friendship and professional respect.
How had a simple offer of hospitality managed to create a problem he now had to explain his way out of?
He resisted the urge to scrub a hand over his face.
Somewhere between the serial killer, the press conference, and the Philadelphia connection, he’d managed to complicate his personal life without even trying.
And if the amused glint in Brian’s eyes was any indication, his brother had already sensed blood in the water.
Wonderful.
Grace leaned back in her desk chair and released a long breath as the front door of Pro-Care clicked shut behind her final applicant, a few minutes after noon.
Relief washed through her.
For a while, she’d been convinced she would never find the right physical therapist to help her get the business off the ground.
The first three interviews had tested every ounce of her patience.
By the end of applicant number three, she’d found herself wondering how any of them had managed to graduate high school, much less earn their physical therapy licenses.
Then Tim Koppel had walked through the door.
He was exactly what she’d hoped for—intelligent, personable, confident without arrogance, and knowledgeable enough that she hadn’t needed to second-guess a single answer he gave.
More importantly, he’d come across as the kind of therapist patients would trust.
At forty-eight, he brought nearly two decades of experience to the table.
A widower with two teenage sons, he’d spent most of his career working in Seattle before moving his family to North Carolina after his wife lost her battle with cancer two years earlier.
He’d wanted to be closer to relatives while helping his boys adjust to life without their mother.
The quiet sadness in his voice when he’d spoken about her had tugged at Grace’s heart.
He was currently working at one of the hospitals in Currituck County, but budget cuts and looming layoffs had him looking for something more stable. The moment he’d heard about Pro-Care opening, he’d applied.
When Grace explained that business would likely start slowly while they built a client base, he shrugged it off without concern. He admitted he’d done well enough in the stock market over the years to retire if he wanted to, but the thought of sitting idle drove him crazy.
He liked helping people. That alone told her plenty.
Grace still planned to check his references that afternoon, but barring some shocking revelation, she already knew she’d be calling him in the morning with an offer.
For the first time since signing the lease, Pro-Care felt real. She had the space and her staff. All that remained was waiting for the equipment delivery, and she’d be ready to open her doors.
A smile tugged at her mouth. Her first instinct was to call Sean and share the good news. The thought brought a warmth she hadn’t quite gotten used to yet.
Thoughts of the night before surfaced without warning—the quiet dinner, easy conversation, and that unexpected kiss at her front door that had left her breathless long after he’d gone. Her fingertips brushed her lips, and her pulse gave an eager skip at the reminder.
She was tempted to call him, if for no other reason than to hear his voice. But he was working, and the last thing she wanted was to interrupt an active investigation, especially with the grim stories she’d heard on the radio that morning about the serial killer task force.
Maybe she’d stop by the beach house later. The possibility sent a flutter of anticipation through her. But for now, she had too much to do.
She pushed back from the desk and glanced around the office suite, taking in the fresh paint, half-arranged furniture, and stacks of unopened boxes waiting for attention.
Her afternoon was already mapped out. She needed to stop by Best Buy to pick up the television for the waiting area, then swing by the sign company to approve the Pro-Care sign before it was mounted above the front door and picture window.
The thought of finally seeing her business name displayed outside sent another wave of excitement through her. After months of planning, dreaming, and pouring every spare dollar she had into making this happen, Pro-Care was almost ready. And she couldn’t wait.
She had just grabbed her coat and purse when an odd scratching sound came from the front door. She frowned and turned toward the glass. The sight on the other side sent laughter bubbling out of her.
Jinx sat on the welcome mat, one paw raised as he scratched at the door with determined purpose, his tail thumping against the concrete. Clamped gently between his teeth was a folded piece of paper. The dog looked absurdly proud of himself.
Still smiling, Grace crossed the room and unlocked the door. The moment she opened it, Jinx’s tail picked up speed. She crouched to his level and gave his ears a thorough scratching before taking the slightly damp note from his mouth.
Unfolding it, she read aloud. “Come join us for lunch at Dan’s. Love, Aunt Bonnie.”
She eyed the dog. “I guess this is a formal invitation, huh, boy?”
Jinx barked once, as if urging her to hurry up and follow.
Grace laughed again. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you?”
As if understanding every word, he gave himself a brisk shake from nose to tail, then turned toward the street.
He paused at the curb, glanced both ways with the same careful attention a person might use, and trotted across toward Malone’s Hardware.
Somewhere along the way, Jinx had apparently decided traffic laws applied to dogs too.
Only then did Grace notice the hollow ache in her stomach. The morning’s interviews—and her excitement over finally finding the right physical therapist—had pushed thoughts of lunch clear out of her mind. Joining Bonnie and Dan suddenly sounded perfect.
Bonnie often closed her boutique for half an hour around midday, leaving a handwritten sign in the shop window letting customers know she could be found a few shops down the street at the hardware store and would be back shortly.
It was one of those small-town habits Grace had always loved about Whisper.
She grabbed her purse and locked the office behind her.
As she crossed the parking lot, her thoughts drifted to Bonnie and Dan.
She’d often wondered why the two of them had never become anything more than close friends.
As far as Grace knew, Bonnie hadn’t dated anyone in years.
Dan had never remarried after losing his wife to cancer while they were both still in their twenties.
Thirty-five years was a long time to spend alone.
Grace couldn’t help thinking they would have made a wonderful couple. Then again, maybe some people grew so comfortable with what they had that they didn’t want to risk changing it.
The thought nudged her back to Sean, and a blush warmed her cheeks. Maybe some risks were worth taking.
Smiling to herself, she headed for the hardware store. Lunch first. Errands second.